Real Indian Female Orgasam Compilation With Her Boy Friend

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I want him to stop, but it isn’t happening. He starts to move in further and pulls out a little bit and pushes his big dick back into me. Sharp shooting pain and the stretching of my pussy, I whimper under his hand. He says to me “God Babe you feel so tight, so good. I haven’t had some tight pussy in a long time. Daddy love’s a tight pussy.” He starts to move the full length of his cock more. I try to relax and somehow do. I start moving with him, but despite my efforts he is still too big. He starts to groan and grunt. Sounds I haven’t heard from him. He leans up off me, lets go of my arms pulls my legs up my feet and ankles over his shoulders. He is now moving faster and more vigorously. I cry out with pain and pleasure. It does feel good, but he is so big. “Daddy, you are too big...aahhhhnnnn…but it feels so good.” This makes him pump me harder and faster. He then starts to grunt real loud and somehow I feel myself starting to climax, “Fuck Daddy! Ooohhhhhnnmmmm. . It feels as if the collar always belongs there... reminding you of my presence, my intentions... the pleasure of being with me...You slip out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub... you hand falls down between your legs... feeling the length of hair... I have been gone for a while... but you know that I want your pussy to be freshly shaved...Whilst you sit on the edge you find your razor and foam, start foaming your pussy... you must have been hornier than you first thought. The slight touch of the foam running down your slit sends pleasure shivers through your body.You quickly move t start shaving as to not be to distracted... you move quickly, longing forme to burry my head between your thighs... When ever you fingers press against, or pull at your lips to pull the skin tight, you can't help but imagine it were my fingers, pulling at them, preparing to enter into you... or massaging your clit...You loose yourself in the feeling of pleasure and longing...All to soon you are.
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The smell of the roasting bird made his mouth water and his stomach growl. It was not a big bird, but too much for one person he thought. He reached for the hot mitts on the stone tiled counter he had tiled with rocks he had found on his land. The tray and bird slid from its warm womb to the waiting counter top, golden and hot. Defiantly too big a bird he thought again shaking his head. A high shrill sound cut faintly to his ears, he knew it like he knew the creak of the house and the rattle of the mudroom door. It was Gingers neigh. She would sound it when she was coming home up the long road to her friends in the barn and pens, and all the horses would salute her back. She was his favorite, and she knew it. She was the queen, the matriarch of the corral. He walked back to the window where earlier he had kept his silent vigil, and looked out into the dim afternoon light and swirling snow. Several of the horses had come from the shelter of the barn and stood in the small paddock.

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