Neelina Indian Wife Handjob 2 2

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Nothing much took place there other than a bit of bare skin contact but I could feel the electricity in the air, after a while we got out and dried off. The three of us were standing there naked, Sally reached down and grabbed my cock, it felt strange to have another woman touching my cock while my wife was standing there but she was just smiling, so I reached down and touched both of their pussies and it felt amazing.Lucy led us into the bedroom and Sally quickly got on all fours on the edge of the bed. I stood behind her admiring her nice round ass and pink pussy lips pouting between her thighs,I rubbed my hands over hers ass cheeks running a finger down her crack and slipping it into her dripping wet pussy. She was so ready that I slipped my now rock hard cock straight in all the way as she groaned with pleasure, I pumped my cock in and out of her pussy which was so wet it was making squelching sounds and my balls were slapping against her clit making her groan even more. I then. Chandani pulled back out a little and then slowly pushed her hips forward again, this time putting in all of the dildo. "Ohhhhhh. It's so big. Oh..." Rangani pressed her head down into the pillow, tipping it back slightly. She reached up to grab the headboard to steady herself. "Fuck me hard, Chandani. Fuck me fast."Chandani smiled, pulling her hips back and then bucking them forward again. "Ohhhhh. Fuck! It's so big!" Rangani jammed her eyes closed, unable to bear the pain. Her boyfriend wasn't anywhere near as big as the dildo. It was huge and it hurt a little. But more than that, Rangani just wanted to be fucked mercilessly which was exactly what Chandnai had in mind. "You want me to fuck you hard?" Chandani whispered in Rangani’s ear, moving her hips back and forth slowly, the dildo going in and out, deep each time. "Hard and fast?" "Uuuuuhhhh yeeees. Harder...oh, harder!" Rangani half screamed, wrapping her legs around Chandani’s waist. "Okay...okay..." Chandani started moving.
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Each vine appeared to have a mind, a life, of its own, moving individually, never in concert with any other vine. Yet the vines clearly had the same goal. Her. Her four hundredth Midsummer was at hand. Yet, it was to be her last. She was to be sacrificed, so that her people could continue to prosper, to thrive. With the exception of the nearby stream and the very subtle rustle of the leaves of the ancient tree, all was absolutely silent. Even the young ones did not stir, did not cry, did not attempt to run and play. Every one of them knew instinctively that their future rested in her demise. A tear fell from my left eye, yet I could not bring myself to wipe it from my cheek as it slowly trickled downward. I had been accepted into this society, into this world, and she had been the first to greet me and bid me welcome and ensure my comfort despite the immeasurable distance from my own home. She and I had discussed this very event, this very morning, many, many times over the.

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