Desi Housewife Getting Screwed In Office

He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it over to the chair with mine. I get bold and reach out to rub his taut stomach. The only hair I can see is a thin trail starting at his bellybutton and disappearing into his jeans. I want to see below. I daringly reach for his snap, but he pushes my hands away. With one hand he pushes me onto my back on the bed and begins to undo my belt buckle, unbutton my pants, and pull my zipper down. He rubs my hard-on through my damp boxers. I start groaning and I know I'm going to come again soon. He must sense this, because he stops rubbing me. He unlaces my sneakers and removes them along with my socks. Then he pulls off my jeans, taking my boxers with them. I'm naked now. He isn't.My dick stands at its full seven inches, ready for whatever's to come next. He lies down beside me on the bed and grabs my junk with one hand. "Nice," he says, looking at it and smiling. Then he scouts down and slips his tongue into my bellybutton, and I can feel that. "Oh so sweet!" she told him. "But not enough!" he told her, and she knew this was true, the Maestro knewit to be true, he could see in her eyes the need for something more. With a final tap against her clitoris he pulled out the baton and tossedit aside, then began to tantalisingly raise his kaftan, lifting it slowly,his eyes never leaving hers as he challenged her not to look down. With the discipline she was learning Karen kept her eyes on his, smilinginto them and hoping he could recognise her love, held her gaze fixed evenwhen he raised his kaftan above his head to mask his face for a moment. Even the kaftan fluttering like a blurred white moth when he tossed it asidedid not break the spell which held her, she caught it only in the peripheryof her vision. Nudging Karen's parted thighs a little wider, then Maestro then took a paceforward to insert his body between them, rested his hands on her knees andsqueezed gently. "More?" he asked, waited for just the slightest nod.
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