Once again, she wore a sleeveless salwar top, but this one was a very low cut and the top button was undone. Below it she wore a inskirt or a petticoa... as it was called, quiet short to show off her long legs. She was barefoot. In a moment, she was ushering me in and hugging me again, molding her body to mine in a friendly greeting that lasted a bit longer than friendship. I could not hug her back as I had bottles in either of my hand. It was all her, pulling me to her, pressing her softness to. Dirty. There was no bad smell here, and certainly no bad taste. Only soft skin, eager flesh, the feel of her quivering transmitted through her body into his. He quickly returned his attention to her pussy but replaced his tongue with a wriggling finger. She tensed, blocking his entrance when he had gotten in to the first knuckle, but then relaxed again as his lips thrummed over her clit. She relaxed, and his finger sank into her. He moved back and forth, fucking her ass with his digit,. More

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