. fir mene use aur ek jordar Dhaka mara aur pura kaa pura land uke gaad me dal diya sudhaa bhi mase se apni gaand marwa rahi thi muje to uski chut se ...ayda uski gaand marne me maza aa raha taaa…sudhaa tumhari gaand to bohat hi mast haiii jaaaam… aab me roj tuje chodungaa aur tumhari gaand bhi marungaa…To maraoo naaa kisne rokaa hi tumhe tu kaho to me roj nagni hi yaha par kam karti rahungi jab chahe apna land daldena jaha tumhara man kare … haaa muje bhi tumhara land kisi bhi hol me lena achaa. She had been on the move since I arrived, energetically giving directions, never sitting down. I watched her look up at her husband, put her head on his shoulder and close her eyes. Wouldn't it be funny if she fell asleep? I must have been smiling to myself when I turned back to look across the table again. Perhaps the girl had changed her mind.Something white caught my attention. With Mrs. Patrick and her husband out of the way my eyes had a clear shot at Ann Hastings. And, she was looking. I had to slow down. I slipped my free hand on to her back and reached for her shorts and underwear. She stopped long enough to allow me to slip both down her legs. I couldn’t reach her swollen pussy, but I knew it was right there. I eased up on an eighteen wheeler in the fast lane. I knew the trucker would get an eye full, so I slowed down as I edged up to the cab of the tractor truck. Betty was still going down on me and her cute naked ass was pointed window-ward. As we passed the trucker, I. She looked at me dispassionately but did not say anything as we waited for the lift to arrive.A resounding ding announced the arrival of the lift and once the door opened we both stepped inside.As soon as the doors closed I turned to Amy, “Do you fancy getting a coffee, I want to talk to you.”“Yeah, why not.”We quickly left and drove a couple of miles to a local coffee shop, parked up went inside, got a coffee and sat down.“So what do want to talk to me about, it is clearly not about the birds.