It was not enough anymore to satisfy the physical need, he wanted to see her taken away by her own pleasure, wanted to own that moment of absolute aba...don - wanted her to gift him with it. With the strength of the almost visceral chorus of Carmina Burana he lifted her in his arms, bedded her on the satin sheets, covered her body with his. He wanted her to feel the side of his body against her skin, feel the harder planes, the rougher texture as a counterpoint to her own sweetness. Her breasts. Woh smell ko yaad karke aj bhi mera lund khada ho jata hai. Uski pink chut itni gili ho chuki thi ke chut ka paani thighs tak pahunch raha tha.Woh 69 position mein aa chuki thi. Woh zor zor se apni chut mere muh pe ragad rahi thi aur apne muh se mere lund pe halke halke bite de rahi thi. Main chut chat te chat te ungli se uski gaand mein fingering kar raha tha. Aur ungli ko mere muh mein gili karke wapis gaand mein ghusha raha tha.“You son of a whore I wanna make you fuck your mother bastard.”. More

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