Indian Aunty 8
“You need to look closely at a real man’s body, feel his legs, thighs, chest and arms.”I moved closer to Dirk. I started to touch his arms, sliding my hands over his bulging biceps, as he stood smiling.“Come on, don’t be shy,” my wife said, grabbing my hands and moving them to his butt.I tried to squeeze Dirk’s butt, but it was hard as iron. I moved my hands down to his thighs, then inside his thighs, muscles all the way. Finally, I felt his nut sack, then his cock. I rubbed and massaged his cock, feeling it growing hard.“Feels good doesn’t, it?” my wife said, “You want it, don’t you.”I was silent as I looked up at Dirk. His smile had turned to something else; a leer and I could sense his growing lust.“Admit it!” she commanded me, “You want it.”“Yes,” I said, “I can’t help but want it.”“Do as you're told, and you can have it,” she said, “Start with his chest and lick him all the way down.”I placed my hands on Dirk’s butt and began licking his chest. I worked my way down slowly to his. Now let’s get ourselves out of this oven, cooled down and into a shower.”= = = = =We met again in front of the hotel. My suitcase was already in my car, and Katie’s rental was de-iced and ready at the kerb. We had exchanged addresses and phone numbers, and we knew we’d see each other again, yet it was hard to part after the intimate, passionate time we had shared.“I’ll call you, I promise,” I ensured her, taking her hands in mine.“Not if I call you first,” she quipped and made us both giggle.We both stood staring at each other, a little unsure what to do. I looked around to see if we were watched and saw her do the same.“To hell!” I said, and wrapped her in a hug, and we exchanged one long, deep kiss of promise.= = = = =On my way back home, I kept humming to the music from the radio and barely noticed as the time flew by. This had been the best holiday of my life, and I decided to end it with a nice scented bath. I parked the car, got out the suitcase and started to walk towards to.
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