My Indian Girlfriend Fucked In Different Style

Swirling bubbles rise as she reclines into the tummy-deep Jacuzzi. Viktor grins, watching her body’s S curve become a silhouette against the bluish ...low of the underwater light. On her face is a look of sexual bewitchment, as if the delights of a pleasurable orgasm are consuming her. Viktor looks at Dominika. ‘Okay Patroph. Your turn.’ ‘Viktor, I’m not going in there fully dressed.’ He smiles. ‘Oh yes you are.’ ‘With all due respect Comrade General, kiss my fucking ass.’ ‘Patroph, don’t make me. Jason smiled and spoke first. ‘Helluva sight, huh?’ Cindy continued fingering herself, oblivious to what was going on. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ Mitch yelled. ‘She can’t hear you, Mitch.’ Mitch turned to his brother, even more confused. ‘What do you mean she can’t hear me?’ ‘Yeah, she’s been doing this every day since you’ve been gone. I have to tell you, Cindy’s got one hell of a body.’ ‘Damn it, Jason. What’s going on?’ ‘Just some harmless fun, big brother. But I have been fucking the shit. I love the feeling of his hard strength against my soft curves. We both know we need to stop but neither of us can. As our tongues touch, he presses my back against the car, trying to touch any part of me he can, his hands clawing at my sweater. My nipples beg to be touched but I have on too many layers. He kisses my neck while I’m plastered to the car and I let a moan slip out. The thought of being late leaves my mind. I’m lost in the moment. I put my hand where I can feel the hardness. Shit!She returns an inquisitive 2-3 seconds of eye contact with me, a lifetime in this scenario. Her instinct/suspicion is that my prolonged glance was no accident; that this "stranger" sitting at the bar was just checking her glorious ass out. Your wife's suspicions were further confirmed when she observed the rubenesque physique of the woman sitting next to him at the bar, likely his own wife and clearly his preference in women was just that.I immediately realize my fault, and snap myself.
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