Indian Wife Letting Her Husband Suck Her Boobs

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"Oh, shit, Destiny, that is good," I moaned, just before I closed my eyes, leaned my head back and positioned my hands onto the back of her head. Her tongue ventured in shallow at first, but it quickly went in deep and began licking my clit slowly. My legs and hands immediately began vibrating. All of the sudden I just saw her as the sexy young adult woman she was. My tongue slipped out of my mouth and I began slobbering all over my lips. Some saliva dropped off my lips and fell onto my chest. My head pressed onto the wall. "My head hurts, but go deeper for me, Destiny. I want your entire tongue in there as deep as you can get it. Please, do it for your best friend," I moaned, as I put more pressure on her head. Then I leaned my head back down and saw her face getting completely bathed in my lady juice. Her eyes were closed, but she didn't stop for even a second. Although, then I yanked her up with me. "You are an evil bitch, but still my best friend," I mentioned, just before I put. " Certainly not. I promised your mother --" Started Jessica."Are you my mom's bitch or something? You don't have to do everything people tell you to!" Stacey shouted."No, but YOU have to do what I tell you to!" Jessica shouted back."Fuck you, bitch - you're not my Mom!" Thank God, but I'm the adult and you're the child. I'm bigger and smarter - that's just how life works. Get used to it!"Jessica grabbed Stacey's arm and wrenched her off the seat, pulling her out of the kitchen to the room where all her stuff was strewn about."And when you get back from school, tidy all this junk up. My home is not a rubbish dump." Jessica scolded."Fuck's sake, I'm not 10 years old you know!" Stacey screamed before slamming the door shut.Jessica stood wondering if the little bitch was going to come out or if this was one of those tantrums that those kinds of girls threw when they couldn't accept the way life is. A few minutes later Stacey threw the door open - answering Jessica's question. She had a.
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I wondered whether pride was a factor, whether he wanted everyone to know this final walk was not taken voluntarily. If so, he was brave to be thinking about statement-making at this juncture. As I retrieved the chains from outside the cell where I had left them, just in case, the youth faced me, spread his legs a little, placed his hands behind his back and lifted his chin, as though to say ‘go on, do it’. I think I was right. One final statement. The walk was a long one, from one side of the building to the other. Along corridors, up stairs, down stairs. The ankle chains did not restrict Chris’s movement to a great extent, but without use of his arms, for balance, he took the stairs gingerly. I didn’t rush him. We were early. It was a walk taken in total silence, which was always the way unless the boy had something to say. Just my boots, and his chains on the concrete. I placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder to hold him back. We were there. I doubt he had noticed the nondescript door.

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