Horny Indian Housewife

We’ll manage; I’ll make sure of it. Don’t bother Lissa until you hear from me. She doesn’t need to be running to the phone if she’s heaving in the john.”“I know, Meddy. I miss you.”“Miss you, too, lover. Have fun in the windy city. Hey! Open a window; maybe you’ll get a blow job!” I groaned and we finally let each other get off the phone.When I finally got off the phone, Allison was standing next to the door tapping her foot. We’d changed into street clothes for the dinner tonight and I was expecting to just veg until then. She told me to grab my sports coat and get going.“Where?” I asked.“Claude Cahun,” she answered.“Another competitor?”“In a manner of speaking. Been dead a few years, though. Let’s go.”I’m not all that into photography, but when Allison told the cab driver to take us to the Art Institute of Chicago, I knew I was in heaven. I got so lost in the exhibits—hauling Allison around by the hand and explaining the different styles and techniques—that it was six and we had to. My wife just watched, but I could see her pussy start to glisten. I told my wife to come over and finish me off, and me made short work of me and I blew my load n her mouth. Then I made Ben clean me up with his mouth and and my wife's mouth.At that point there was a knock on the door. I walked over and let Ben's wife in the door. Ben started to stammer but I told both of them to shut up. WE were now in charge. She walked over to Ben and pulled him up by his cock, he grimaced in pain, she wasn't gentle. She informed Ben of how thing were going o change.Then she looked at me and asked if this was my cunt wife, I said it was, then she asked me if she would be allowed to discipline her for all she put me through. I said yes. A look of fear passed through my wifes eyes. Then she walked over to my wife and grabbed her by the hair and pulled onto the bed over her knee. It was incredible violent and my wife just whimpered a little. Ben's wife then pulls out this black leather paddle from her.
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