House Wife Enjoyed By Hubby’s Friend – Desi Masala

I am stubborn though and I will refuse to be defeated. I’m rocking myself back and forth, desperately pleading with you, not with words but with the tone of my incoherent voice. “You want more?” you ask in a way that makes me think you won’t care what answer you receive. “yesssssss, fuck yes” I moan even though I never actually decided. A third finger stretches me, it starts to hurt, but the fact that I know I won’t stop you, even if you introduce numbers four and five makes me gasp. I’m like an animal now and my pussy aches to be touched. Just one touch, I want you to feel what you’ve done to me. Your fingers are sliding out of me now, you don’t want to totally destroy my ass until your cock has at least enjoyed it. You undress yourself and your cock is not shy at all. It stands to face me and I am pleased to see that it’s tip glistens with pre cum, immediately I want to taste it, I moved towards it and you stop me. “You don’t deserve that yet, you fucking whore” Being called. Not my grandmother today, butthe one from her old pictures, when she was young and dating my granddad. That had been back in the thirties, and she had worn those midiskirts, sweaters, and knitted hats, just like Faye Dunaway in Bonnie andClyde. She had been a real beauty, and it was disconcerting, but somehowreassuring, that I looked a lot like her.Every time I tried something new, something more feminine, Stanley lovedit. When we saw each other around campus, it was the same old Stanley,but on weekends, he treated me like a girl. He was sweet and attentiveand gentle (except when I didn't want him to be.) I still couldn'tfigure out if I was just a temporary thing with him, like those guys didwith each other back in Tanzania, or if he saw us as a long term thing.But I didn't know that about myself, either. I was spending five days aweek in denial about us. What were we doing? Did it matter? Whateverit was, we spent weekends pleasuring each other, making his apartment ourown.
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