College Lady Desi Teacher & Student Indian Chudai

I walk quietly to the door, unsure what to expect, but certainly not what I see.You, naked, spread eagle on the bed you grew up in, atop the the colorful bird and butterfly comforter your mother bought you six years ago, just before she passed away. You, with your back arched, holding the teddy bear I bought you 12 years ago pressed against your crotch, grinding furiously against your bald pussy. You, with your head thrown back, the decorative pillow with your first initial "N" supporting you, as your mouth bites down into the material of your own cotton panties. You, with your nipples stiff and erect, protruding from the curves of your natural nineteen year old teen breasts, with eyes rolled back as if having an out of body experience. You, as you moan into the self made gag, revealing the source of the sound, as your body crescendos into a spasm of ecstasy. You, as the squirt releases from your pussy to soak all around it. You, cumming harder than your mother even came close to in. I just started to doze off when the bus took a heavy dive down and then back up, practically bouncing us all out of our seats. My boy’s hand was now against my bare belly and his had made its way inside my sweats, in fact I could tell it was right my airstrip. I, too, though was feeling his treasure trail against my cheek and when I looked forward I could see down into his loose jeans and the tip of his cock was sticking out from the top his shorts. I don’t think he had an erection but he wasn’t soft either and it was so close to my mouth that if it grew any more than an inch, it would be right at my lips. I rolled with the rhythm of the bouncing bus and tried to time my movement just right and when that moment came I quickly shifted my ass and his hand fell deeper into my sweats. His fingers traveled right across my clitoris and onto my lips. He didn’t seem to move but I figured it wouldn’t be long before he felt the heat and moisture. His finger began to twitch and very slowly sunk.
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