On some evenings, they would meet in the roof garden: high above the city and the only part of the Brothel open to the sky. Like many others, Binta ha... a small plot in the garden she could tend when she could. It was a very small plot that grew only a few flowers and herbs, but Binta had taken the option of working there, precisely for the freedom of an empty sky above her head. Ana enjoyed these visits which, because of Binta's chosen dress, were only possible on dry warm evenings. She enjoyed. My hands reached into Jean's hair, guiding her, urging her further down, deeper into my velvet purse.Jean willingly obliged, her tongue darted, finding my open lips, sliding easily between, finding my hard little clit, flicking around, making her throb. Soon Jean was smothering the peak with her flexible tongue, lashing me enthusiastically. I felt her tongue thrust deep inside my throbbing cunt, so that I was crying out again and again, my convulsing love tunnel clenched at her burrowing. As she turned around, her curvy round ass was waving at me. I too escaped from there quietly… For close days we didn’t meet as we both were uncomfortable facing each other.One day at my home, I was searching for my passbook and in the drawer of the locker, I saw ID proof of my sexy Sarita. She might have handed it to my mom for an insurance policy. I never asked her about her age. She was born on 20/07/1982 I found it on her ID. She was 32 years old. As I calculated her age, something went up. In a fast motion, and rough toungue lashing. Deep and hard up my Clint. My torn clint sore and I was soared to extacy. I felt a toungue swirling around in my inner walls twirling deeper and deeper.. suddenly, a wave of orgasm exploded into my pusssy. And I cringed. A tear left my body. ..what was this ghost..? I surged in extacy again the harder the oral intercourse became. I heard the ghost growl.. as my Clint was embraced with wet hot nibbles. I didn’t want this to stop. “ oh god’ I cried..