Indian Wife Threesome With Boss And Husband

“Little heart, you’re such a slut. Come on darlin’ fuck that handle.” Her knees banged against the door but she did not care for her pleasure began to mount. She knew she should stop but she wanted to get closer. He had told her to bring herself VERY close so, and she intended to. She felt her lips throb and she knew that the handle was slick from her desire. She felt her nectar drip down her thighs as her cunt sucked at the handle greedily. Her body twisted and swayed with the motion of the dance she was dreaming of. The handle was hard against her clit, and it pinched past the hard bump and into her entrance. Only able to go so far in made it a most wondrous torture. Torture, she loved. Her nails dragged along the bottom of the sink as she felt her pleasure begin to erupt. She felt her walls convulsing hard within, and the nectar began to flow easily. She pushed herself hard from the cabinet falling to the floor breathing hard. Her belly jerking and twitching as her. There they grip, squeezing, holding me tight. His lips on mine are hard, pressing against me, and I open under their assault. Hard muscled tongue slides over mine, invading, thrusting into my mouth. I want to glance about, check for stragglers, but the tongue overrides my thoughts, drives my worries aside. His lab coat is starched and feels heavy as it slides across the backs of my knuckles. I slide my fingers along his scrubs, the dusty blue ones worn by every resident, down his sides, to the drawstring waist. Tug at his ties, loosening them under his continued assault of my mouth. Our lips wrestle, his hard, thin, bristled, demanding. Mine push back, not simply giving. My hand slips under the scrubs, under the jockeys he has on, and wraps around his hard cock. I can feel the throb of my own straining against the front of my pants. I move my hand up his shaft, the skin like soft satin slipping under my fingers. I can feel it move over the hard iron underneath. My hand slides across.
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