I am a widower and live alone with my son. I am left to fend myself as I invoked the wrath of my relatives by marrying a person from outside our relig...on. With my job, I managed to send my son Shyam to a private school all by myself. I shifted him to a high profile school and this was his first parent’s teachers meeting where I met Anjali, Ajay’s mom. She was a women almost my age or may be a little less, who definitely dresses up smartly, elegantly and beautifully with ample makeup. The areas. She screamed and removed her hands from her hips and buried her nails in my back. The tightness of her pussy reminded me that she was in pain. She bit on my cheeks, necks and shoulders and shouted oeeeee haiiiii rascal you tore my vagina also, you mother fucker, pig, scoundrel! her pussy was tight like a virgin girl. But just as I started pumping a little she immediately arched her back & got a squirting orgasm. Just then by that aunt’s screams converted into loud passionate moans. She wrapped. If I give you that, there’s still the question of my…”“Your pussy?”“Yes. My pussy.”“And you think I’ve never seen a pussy?”“No…I know you have. But you’ve never seen MINE.”“I know. Shame, isn’t it?”“Get serious.”“I am. It’s just a pussy. How many doctors have seen it? I bet you’ve lost track. None of them went blind when you lay down on a table with stirrups and let them look deep inside that hot, mysterious cavern.”“They were doctors. You’re not.”“No, I’m not. But I do want to be your lover.. I was standing in front of the mirror, fastening my suspender belt, the proper six strap one and thinking about smoothing my stockings to a perfet look. I’m not telling the whole truth. I was thinking about smoothing stockings up his legs and caressing that lovely bum.I had gotten as far as deciding not to wear a bra and dropping a chemise over my head, when I heard the door.“I’m still doing my hair,” I shouted. “Put the kettle on.” Surely anyone would agree that there was not a word of.