Hot South Indian House Wife Fucks Her Young Office Boss
"Why can't you stay here?" My head aimed down with tears flowing. His hands came to my cheeks. "It's just a year, and then I'll come back to you, I swear." Waterworks were brought out and eyes were caught from strangers, but I didn't care. My arms went around him. "Just stay here please, risk it for me. I promise it'll be worth it." "If I did that, I'd go AWOL. That's not good, Midge. It's just a year, so think about the memories." His arms wrapped around me too. A few of his tears were sparked too. "I love you. Now I gotta go, stay sweet for me." His arms released me. I was clueless that I would fall in love with him as my intention was just to do him a big favor before he left, but it seemed have worked too well. The love infection affected both of us and there was no denying it. As he walked away, his face looked back at me. "I know we're best friends, but I love you!" "I know that, I love you too!" A kiss was blown my way, and his way too. I watched him, until he was out of. She sat back down and turned her attention to the sale ads, occasionally glancing back from her chair to check his progress in the yard. Should she be worried that her newly re-ignited sexuality had her checking out the physique of her girlfriend’s teenage son, she wondered silently? Glancing back out into the sunshine-soaked backyard, she arose from her chair and moved towards the patio door, her hand grazing past her left breast as she brushed the hair from her face. Kenny was mowing a line from the far backyard up towards the deck area, as she reached for the knob of the French door and stepped out to the patio.“Hey Kenny!”, she yelled, wanting to be heard over the roar of the small gasoline engine. The boy looked up and brought the mower to a standstill and released his hands from the safety bar, the engine still whirling. Leigh took on a girlish bounce to her step as she hopped over towards the deck railing, planted her palms on top and, raising up on her tippy-toes, feeling her.
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