Desi Village Wife Hardcore Fucking 1

I chose the urinal closest to the door, and with great relief took out my pecker for a nice long piss. Moments later, the door opened and the gorgeous guy enters. He went to the urinal beside me and unzipped. I looked over at him briefly and while I glanced as casually as possible, I saw that he was looking down at my cock too. His boldness was turning me on and my dick started to get hard. He moved in towards me, his flaccid penis hanging out of his jeans. His free hand reached down to caress my now raging boner. His hand firmly encircled my dick. His thumb gently massaged the underside of my knob. I melted into him as he pulled me in to kiss him deeply and firmly on the mouth. Our lips and tongues were desperate to devour and taste each other. We were both standing in our jeans, sporting mammoth erections and admiring each other's bodies. His cock was a magnificent piece of work, a classic natural uncut beauty. I leaned down and took his mighty cock in my mouth. He gave a low groan. Hello. It’s easy. He was saved from his mental wrestling by the station. The train pulled up just as she was tucking the book into her sensible handbag. Not too small to be less than practical, but not too big to be unwieldy. He watched as she got off. She didn’t look at him this time. He was disappointed. As she moved down the platform he contemplated quickly getting off just before the doors automatically shut, but he was going to do that tomorrow. He had a plan. Yeah, right. He could see her through the window as she made her way towards the escalators with the stream of other commuters. She moved briskly, but as she looked back at the train, he averted his eyes and ducked down to pretend he was tying his shoelaces. Shit. He realised he was wearing slip-ons. What a dick. He hoped no one had been watching him, watching her. He was behaving like a scared kid. Or a stalker. Come on, I’m not a stalker. I just want to find out more about her. The train took a little while to depart, so.
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