Beautiful Indian Hot Bhabhi Sex Love Sex At Morning

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With him gone I watched the porn more closely, to be honest I couldn’t look away. The images so very orgasmic. I had on my work suit trousers, light grey and felt that the films were definitely going to make me ejaculate, and soon! I was alone and didn’t want to embarrass myself by coming in my tight light coloured trousers. God I can’t help myself can’t stop I quickly unhooked the pants and pulled them and my briefs down quickly. I grabbed my new hanky from the pocket just, I mean just in time to catch the powerful jet of hot semen. I was shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. With hindsight I couldn’t call this masturbation, my cock reacted to the imagery, yes it was squeezed into tight pants and I may have squeezed my legs together a bit but this was involuntary. All my hands did was to remove clothing quickly to avoid stains and provide a catcher for the inevitable and unstoppable emission.I used the dry bits on the hanky to clean up my still twitching cock. I waited a minute. Mmmff..." my words were cut off and muffled in her dripping snatch as I became aware of her straddling my face with her thighs. She was grabbing the back of my head and was forcing my face into her wet pussy. I could feel her increased wetness as she pushed my face all around on her pussy, using my face like a washcloth and the whole time grabbing my hair and telling me to suck her pussy. I was startled by the smell and taste of her pussy, and for a moment thought that she had brought another woman into our bedroom, and that was why the smell and taste of the pussy seemed different. I asked if I could take off the blindfold. I felt her back off and without notice I again felt the sting of another hard slap to my cheek as she said "I told you you'd be sorry. I said not to say a word until I tell you it is OK to speak, now shut your mouth", this time the slap was hard enough to see stars. She mounted my face again and I was startled when I felt warm fluid dripping and being smeared.
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I never really thought too much much about the man or the dog, or even where we were when the actual event happened. Most every time I relived that moment of my life, I zeroed in on the laughter. I can hear my own pig-like squealing, Mom’s song-like Ha! Ha! Ha!s (I love listening to her laugh) and the man’s savage, howling laughs. That memory has popped into my mind several times a week, ever since I can remember. I have flashes of memories before that, but none with such detail. When I really concentrate on it, I can even smell the dog’s breath, as it licks my face (and oddly enough, I can also remember smelling pee). But in the back of my mind there was always a sneaking suspicion that my first truly vivid memory might only be a memory of a dream. I’d always been afraid that I’d somehow created those images and sounds and even the smells, in my mind. Spending as much time alone as I did, I had a fantastic imagination. With only the stodgy, old house-staff for.

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