Sexy Dehati cookie masturbation with cucumber

While moving back, her hand touched my beer mug. The beer spilled over, wetting my T-shirt and, damn, my lungi too.Roshni kept her mug and remote on t...e teapoy. She started to wipe the beer stains from my shirt, saying sorry again and again. I told her ok but was petrified on seeing her hands moving towards my crotch. She tried to rub the beer on my lungi.My cock was forming a tent even though I tried to control it. Her shirt displayed her ample breasts and was jiggling inside her tight bra. I. Even if it was his only day off. His father was booked with consults all afternoon and probably wouldn’t be home until late. Even Theresa, the maid, was off today. The place was a giant prison of temptation.As he walked past Felicia’s room, however, he stopped, juice sloshing in his glass. She was sitting in the big chair by the window, gazing out at nothing, the sunlight kissing her drawn features. She looked . . . troubled.“Hey, you okay?” he asked before he could stop himself.She jumped a. More

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