He held my bumcheeks firmly and started to lick my anal lobe.It sent shivers down my spine even my husband had never done this before, his tongue hove...ed all over my inner-arse and my shithole. It gave me a very different feeling, he inserted a finger into my crack and I let out a moan “ramnikbhai pleaaase aaah please pichey chodiye na aaah apko joh karma haaai aagey kijiye aaaah” but had no effect on him, his expert fingers moved in and out of my anus and he licked his finger and said “kya. I figure we should drop your suitcases off there before we take you to the realtor."I ask, "Which hotel did you choose?"He smiles and answers, "Again I hope you don't mind but I chose the Delaware hotel because it's right downtown and is sort of like stepping back into the past. We can actually walk to the realtor's office from the hotel."Bernie answers, "Damn that will be great! I'm tired of driving and riding in a car."I practically demand, "Bernie, I'm hungry and..."Bernie laughs and. And you’re not done with that story either.” I grinned and leaned back against the steering wheel, softly moving my hips to stir his softening cock, still inside my slick juices. “This isn’t the only hole that they filled, is it?” he demanded. I shook my head, smiling wickedly. “I want to hear you say it.” “I felt like such a dirty girl Matt… It was like something took over me. And all the while remembering all our fantasies and the way we talked about this moment. It made me want to act every. Wearing her sexiest underwear helped to get her in the right mood. Her hands ran through her dark wavy hair, then slowly massaged her neck and shoulders. Moving slightly lower, she stroked the tops of her breasts and ran her fingers down her cleavage to play with the clasp at the front of her bra. After pausing there for a while, her hands slid down over the slim curves of her waist, brushed over the panties and down her long, smooth thighs. She let out a long sigh, before her hands worked back.
Read MoreMix the two and what do you have? That is the eternal question, isn’t it? Where is the sweet spot between guilt and innocence? The Goldilocks zone w
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