Desi Wife Hardcore Fucking In Room

The key inserted in the door, the knob turned and he enters. He knows what will happen. He knows there will be fire tonight. The pureness of the taking and giving of bodies will be ignited. Tonight he would take away the ache, the need, the desire that wouldn’t let me sleep. Tonight he would take it to the next level, the next step that meant there was no turning back. We had danced the dance, the rituals of mating, the teasing, the flirting, and the sensual touching that had fueled the fire of our passion. He sees me, but we say nothing for our eyes say it all. I take his hand and lead him upstairs. Moments later we stand in the bedroom in front of the dresser with the mirror hanging above it both naked, flesh against flesh, with me standing in front of him. I watch him watching me. The glow of the candles on the dresser cast a golden buttery glow about the room. I hold my breath as his tanned hands search my pale skinned body. His lips kiss my neck and my body leans into him. She idly wondered what reaction she’d get if she pinched it. Giggling under her breath, she decided against telling Matt that particular thought. Like the reception area, the large room they entered was minimalist in appearance. Apart from the heavy desk that contained a telephone at one end and a computer beside it, the only other furniture consisted only of a couple of chairs and a glass cabinet that seemed to be filled with videotapes and cd’s. The room needed a woman’s touch… ‘Centre of operations,’ he smiled, pointing to a seat and then casually perching on the edge of the desk beside her. It creaked ominously as he eased his muscular frame down. ‘Drink?’ he asked, twisting around and reached for two glasses without waiting for a reply. He handed the one with the pink liquid to her. ‘Thanks,’ she smiled, accepting the drink and taking a sip. All going smoothly so far, she told herself. ‘First,’ he said, resting one hand on his knee, ‘we don’t stand on ceremony here. We’re a.
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