Pumping A Indian Pussy

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I thought you might punch me in the mouth. And callme a faggot. And maybe even leave me dead on the floor. Ithink I would have preferred the latter. I have neverenjoyed pleasuring a man more than I have you."She pulled me to my feet and, no subtlety now, kissed mehard on the mouth. Her cock touched mine and I manoeuvredmyself so I could take it between my thighs. She pistoned afew strokes before breaking the kiss and pulling me to thehuge bed."I want to see you come," I said."Then please make me come. And the best way to do thatis... oh, just fuck me." Chapter Four: The RideMy eyes were still on Dani's cock as she lay beside me onthe bed unhurriedly stroking long strings of precum fromits tip. I had seen only a couple of erect penises otherthan my own before and it struck me as odd that the firstthat should have caught my undivided attention was onsomeone I thought of as a woman.There was nothing at all masculine about the legs of thisyoung sex goddess. Nor did her skin hint at. I spent the rest of the day in my apartment, partly because it was terribly hot outside, and partly because I wanted to look at a couple of threesomes porn videos, with two men and one woman.At about 7 pm I threw myself in the shower, shaved my balls and ass, get dressed and walked slowly to the agreed address.The two of them met me on the terrace of a very beautiful villa, which surprised me. I thought I would run into some apartment, but no, it's a castle with a pool. They invited me to sit down, ask what I was drinking, and a gentle conversation started. We talked about everything except about what we agreed on. In an instant, Marija rose from the table and headed for the pool. Standing on the edge of the pool, she took off her short silk nightgown and jumped naked into the pool. I watched her swim and enjoy the water. She invited me to join her."Come on, go," Franjo said. I took off my Bermudas, sneakers and stepped to the edge of the pool. Mary came to me, and looking at my dick.
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Both of them had blonde hair that hung past their shoulders. Their hairstylist was obviously very well paid. The skirts and tops they wore made them look like runway models.They looked down their noses at me as they got into the Mercedes in front of me. I grinned and eyed them brazenly.They sat in the front seat chatting as they drank their own coffees. I watched them with interest as their blouses did very little to hide their upper assets. I continued to smile as I imagined what they looked like without the tops.After several minutes, the woman in the driver’s seat looked at me icily through her open window.“You know,” she said sternly, “A gentleman wouldn’t stare the way you do!”I grinned and met her gaze.“Who told you I was a gentleman?” I said.“Well, it’s obvious you’re not!” she retorted.I could see the woman in the passenger seat watching our exchange curiously.“Maybe you’ve had too many gentlemen,” I said. “Maybe you should consider what it’s like to have a real man.

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