Desi scandal of a hot aunty sliding sari

You smell like hope and promises (as much as a particular cheap cologne, rolling tobacco and leather can smell like those things), you smell like the ...appiest times of my early twenties. You smell like my Jack Kerouac novel, the dog eared-copy with the inscription I wrote to you about love and our lives and coming into romance like a car crash. I feel heavy and wet and all confused. I push your jacket over your shoulders, past your biceps and over your forearms. We both allow it to fall to the. They were rock hard and my fatherextended his big calloused hand to tweak his owndaughter-in-law’s hard nipples. I saw a wave of pleasure passed over my wife’s face asshe moved to my father and shook her breasts in hisface. I saw my father’s old tongue flicked out andlicked my wife’s nipple briefly.“Drink some fresh milk, Shanta,” Kishore and Rudrachimed to encourage my father, who got bold and graspedmy wife’s big breasts and started sucking on them. More

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