Fucking Indian Aunty

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I looked at the blond mans cock and leaned forward and said "You get one too" and pressed my lips against it.Slowly opening my mouth i felt the thick cock slid between my lips and slowly started to suck,moving my head back and forth.The brown haired man released the hold on my hair and said "That's a good girl,suck that cock" I heard and felt him get on his knees behind me.I felt his hard manhood rubbing against my lower back.He then lifted my red camisole and said"Lets see what we have here". He briefly looked and felt my round ass and said" Very Nice".The blond man slowly went down on his knees and i slowly followed his cock like a fish on a hook,lifting my ass off my legs so the man behind me could get a better view of my ass-etts. Still sucking and stoking the blonde mans meaty hard on.I felt the brown haired man move up behind me,i felt his thick package smack against my ass.I spread my legs open to match his cock height.I felt him feeling up my shaved sissy ass as he pulled my. He'd never told her he loved her anyway. Well, except once when they were in his kitchen. He'd spun around quickly for something and knocked his mother's glass measuring cup off the counter. Reacting quickly, Jen jumped forward and caught it before it hit the floor. He'd said, "Oh my God, I love you!" like ten times in a row. Both Dana and Jen agreed that didn't count as a true "I love you."Jen knew she loved him, but she was petrified of him saying nothing after she told him so, or of him saying, "I don't know if I love you."But she didn't want him to say it if he didn't mean it, or immediately jump into bed with him as soon as he did. She knew he'd probably think she was easy if she did that. Hell, she would be easy, she thought. His friends sometimes were jerks to her, saying, "Have you slept with Ryan yet? Why not? Don't you like him? Are you a prude or something?" He was never there when they said it, and she didn't want to mention it to him for fear he'd say, "Well, aren't.
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‘I mean, I’m mainly going for the social aspect. I don’t think I’ll ever be very good.’ Alice smiled over her coffee. ‘I drank half a bottle of cabernet while I painted, honey,’ she said. ‘I don’t think ‘very good’ was ever the goal.’ Cynthia chuckled, trying not to let her laughter sound forced. She did think it was funny, she just wasn’t used to being alone with another person and she was feeling a bit self-conscious about everything. It was bound to get better after a little casual conversation. ‘So,’ Alice said. ‘Are you, like, afraid of cocks or something?’ Cynthia almost inhaled her French Vanilla. ‘Sorry,’ Alice said. ‘I didn’t mean to say it like that. But, I mean, you only ever come to Paint Night when we’re doing still lifes, and you never want to go out afterward. And you’re happy to do things with us like yoga and tennis and stuff, but you cancel out whenever anyone says they’re bringing their boyfriend or their husband. I thought maybe you were gay, or maybe just getting.

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