Madrasi Indian Aunty Giving Blowjob To Her Boyfriend

Bewildered by what had happened I stood up and wiped my hands on the backs of my legs to get rid of the loose grass. I stood there confused and disorientated as though I had just woken from a slumber, I looked up through the trees to find the sun and noticed that the afternoon was just giving way to evening, there were about four hours of daylight left, according to my estimate, time I was going home. I followed in Josephine’s hurried footsteps, albeit at a less hasty pace and tried to make sense of what had just occurred. Of course at my age I had no idea whatsoever why Josephine had run off. What had she meant about me having never tried to kiss her? She said she liked me, I remembered that bit, but why run away? With my head full to busting with the quirks of the fairer sex, I trudged home. Later that evening I ended up visiting the pub again in the vague hope of seeing Josephine. Against the rules I went up in civvies. I was sick of the uniform, especially the bloody boots, spit. The music filled the room as the two girls walked in. The dancing stopped and all eyes turned to look at the two stranded strangers. From out of the crowd came a young man dressed in bow tie and tails, as he approached the girls, he bowed, took each of the girls by the arm and lead them into the room.Maybe the electricity was out or maybe it was just for nuance but the room was lighted by nothing but oil lamps like the one that Betty's grandmother had, had at her house.Sam was the first to speak, "Our car is stuck, we have no cell phone service and we need to use a phone to call for help." The man gave them a strange look, but continued to lead them to a table filled with all types of finger foods and a bowl of punch. He took a glass cup from its hanging position on the bowl, filling it with the pink liquid and offering it to Sam and then doing the same with a second glass and offering it to Betty.The man had the deepest blue eyes that either had ever seen; they looked like a deep.
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