Indian Married Woman Fucking Her Boyfriend Part 2

She learnt fast.I then simulated a volley of punches, this triggered something in her and she rained a volley of blows, I got slapped a bit but blocked her, she restrained me and then started raining blows. Then she broke down after venting her frustration, I was flummoxed. I also suddenly was turned on. Under my tight shorts, my erection was to visible to be missed!She was embarrassed and confused. She was crying, yes massaging her nipples and groin u*********sly. She turned around to avoid my gaze.It was now or never.I approached her from behind and gave a soothing hug. My groin was pressed into her buttocks, she did not resist. I soothingly told her “all is ok, relax”My hands started touching her breasts”“May I?”She sighed with approvalI kneaded and massaged them and then lifted her tunic to play with them, skin to skin. From the feel, her breasts were saggy, her nipples were taut and boy were they hairy. I explored and caressed her shoulders and her hairy armpits, dripping with. The kiss reluctantly broke and left me looking down her body. That white shirt and a tiny pair of white lace panties were the extent of her clothing. Not a button fastened, the shirt lay open barely covering her breasts.“Comfortable, darlin?”“Very,” she answered. She raised her almost-empty glass. “Why don’t you refill this, pour you a glass and join me.”Returning with two glasses, I took the seat beside her and stretched my legs so my feet, too, rested on the railing. She leaned against me, rested her head on my shoulder and twined her fingers in mine. One of us sighed; maybe both.We sipped our wine and talked about our week as the sky turned brilliant oranges and reds.“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said softly as she pulled her legs down and stood. “Put your legs down,” she added as she turned toward me.When I did as instructed, she straddled my thighs. Slowly. Agonizingly slow. Her eyes locked onto mine as she settled onto my lap, but not quite up against me. Without any other.
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