Excited to see her, I tried to move around but Niharika caught my face and didn’t let me turn and said, “Concentrate on me, baby. You can watch he... later”. Excited and with the intention of giving Avantika a good view of us fucking, I started ramming Niharika’s pussy.Niharika started to moan as I increased the speed. I could see her breasts moving up and down inside her salwar with each thrust. A girl getting fucked with her top on her is an incredible sight to behold, let alone a girl as. She claimed to be fourty-five, but looked more like thirty. About my height, slim, very long black hair falling down her back, to below her shoulder blades, of Indian descent, but born and raised in England, and with the most gorgeous, rich coffee-coloured skin.She was stunning, to the point where, when she did her gardening in those tiny white tennis shorts, every man in the street, and me, found excuses to be out front doing jobs, just so we could enjoy the view. She worked at our local paper. The sensation of her being filled up sent her over the edge again. She felt powerless and she loved it. She loved being forced. Suddenly she felt him pull out of her. She felt so empty. There was shifting on the bed and suddenly she felt his strong hand grab her hair, hard. As she opened her mouth to scream, George shoved his cock down her throat. Her gag reflex was going into overtime. George started fucking her throat mercilessly. She suddenly felt a hand grab her throat. Oh my God Ronnie!. Up until this time I have only had to cope with a skirt. Not a difficult thing, a piece of fabric with a small hole on top and a larger hole in the bottom when you get down to the basics. Add a ruffle, elastic, or other doodads and it still remains the same. But pants, on the other hand (leg?) are a topological nightmare. I left college 25 years ago in part because advanced calculus was completely incomprehensible to me. All that stuff about morphing a coffee cup into a doughnut and spatial.