24-11-2024, 01:30 AM
The kiss started soft, almost tentative. But it quickly deepened, becoming more passionate. I watched as my wife opened her mouth, accepting our landlord's tongue. Her hands came up to grip his shoulders, fingers sinking into the excess flesh, pulling him closer. Their mouths worked against each other hungrily, and I could see saliva gathering at the corners of their lips. Mr. Banerjee pulled back slightly, a thick strand of their mixed saliva connecting their mouths. He gathered it with his tongue before spitting directly into my wife’s waiting mouth. To my shock, she accepted it eagerly, swallowing visibly before pulling him back into another sloppy kiss, their mouths open and messy. That fat, pale disgusting landlord repeated the act, this time letting the saliva dribble slowly from his mouth into hers, watching it pool on her tongue before she swallowed again with obvious relish.
His hands gradually began to roam, exploring my wife’s body through the sheer lace. He cupped her breast, his thick thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric. Aradhya arched into his touch, her face contorting in what I could only assume was a moan of pleasure.
I was rock hard in my office chair, my breath coming in short pants as I watched my wife being fondled by this repulsive man.
Mr. Banerjee broke the kiss, trailing his lips down Aradhya's neck, leaving a shiny trail of saliva. She tilted her head back, giving him better access, her eyes closed in pleasure. His hand moved lower, skimming over her stomach, down to the apex of her thighs. My wife’s body jerked slightly as his fingers brushed against her most intimate area, the thin lace doing little to dull the sensation. Her lips moved, forming a word I couldn't hear but could easily guess - his name.
Mr. Banerjee continued his ministrations, his fingers moving in slow circles over the lace. With his other hand, he tugged at the bodysuit, exposing more of her flesh to his hungry gaze and eager touch. His thick fingers hooked into her garments, peeling them away inch by inch. Each new expanse of skin revealed drew a grunt of appreciation from his throat. Aradhya trembled under his aggressive pawing, her breath coming in short gasps visible even through the grainy feed.
As his hands roamed possessively over her exposed dusky form, groping and squeezing with unrestrained lust, he pulled her into his lap, her lithe form a stark contrast to his corpulent body. His mouth attacked her throat, leaving angry red marks on her delicate skin. Their bodies moved together in a frenzied rhythm, the couch creaking ominously beneath them. Sweat glistened on their skin, the landlord's balding head shining in the apartment's light as he devoured my wife with animal hunger.
His thick fingers fumbled with the clasps of her bodysuit, his impatience evident as he practically tore at the delicate fabric. The garment finally gave way, peeling off her sweat-dampened skin with a soft, wet sound. She sat naked now in his lap, her perfect breasts bouncing free as he roughly yanked the last of the material away and tossed it aside. His meaty hands wasted no time returning to her flesh, pawing at her newly exposed body with renewed vigor. His movements grew more desperate, more primal, as his pudgy fingers found their way between her thighs. What the old landlord lacked in finesse, he made up for in raw enthusiasm. His digits worked frantically, plunging in and out of my wife's most intimate area with growing urgency. Her hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his hand in small, circular motions. The sight of my beautiful wife, writhing on this portly old fart's lap, sent a confusing mix of emotions coursing through me. Minutes passed, though they felt like hours. The old man's free hand continued its relentless exploration of Aradhya's body, groping and squeezing with unrestrained lust. His mouth latched onto her breast, sucking and nibbling with desperate hunger. Saliva dribbled down his chin, leaving glistening trails on her skin.
Suddenly, Mr. Banerjee's head jerked back. He said something, his thin lips moving rapidly. I leaned closer to my phone screen, wishing desperately that I could hear what he was saying. Whatever it was, it caused my wife to stiffen slightly, her eyes widening in what looked like surprise. He spoke again, his expression a mix of pleading and demand. She bit her lip, hesitation clear in her body language. She glanced towards the bedroom - towards the camera she didn't know existed - and for a moment, I thought she might refuse, might put an end to this encounter.
But then, slowly, she nodded.
Mr. Banerjee's face split into a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth bared in anticipation. He shifted on the couch, lying down on his back, his head propped up on the armrest. His potbelly rose and fell with his rapid breathing, his balding head gleaming with sweat. My wife stood, and I could see the slight trembling in her legs. She looked down at him, uncertainty written across her features. He said something else, gesturing impatiently with his hands. She took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself.
With careful movements, she climbed onto the couch, positioning herself above Mr. Banerjee's face. She hovered there for a moment, her thighs on either side of his head, her hands braced on the back of the couch for balance. Our landlord’s hands came up to grip her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he tried to pull her down. My wife resisted at first, maintaining her position just out of reach. I could see the conflict on her face, the last vestiges of hesitation warring with the desire that was clearly building. His face contorted into a stern glare, eyes flashing with dominance as he yanked her hips down roughly, forcing her to submit to his demands. His tongue darted out, wetting his thin lips as he stared up at her most intimate area.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Aradhya began to lower herself. Her eyes fluttered closed as Mr. Banerjee's mouth made contact with her sex. Her body tensed, then relaxed, a shudder running through her as our landlord's tongue began to explore. At first, she remained still, letting him do all the work. His head bobbed slightly as he licked and sucked, his hands still gripping her hips tightly. Aradhya's face was a mask of conflicting emotions - pleasure warring with discomfort, desire battling with shame. But as the minutes ticked by, I watched as the last of Aradhya's reluctance melted away. Her hips began to move, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence. She started to grind against Mr. Banerjee's face, her movements becoming more fluid, more purposeful.
Mr. Banerjee's hands slid from her hips to her ass, kneading the flesh roughly as he pulled her more firmly against his mouth. Aradhya's hands, previously braced on the back of the couch, moved to her breasts. She cupped them, pinching and rolling her nipples between her fingers.
The sight of my wife pleasuring herself while riding our landlord's face sent a jolt of arousal through me so intense it was almost painful. I shifted uncomfortably in my office chair, acutely aware of how hard I was, how desperately I wanted to touch myself. But I couldn't, not here, not now. All I could do was watch, captivated by the depraved scene unfolding on my phone screen.
Aradhya's movements became more frantic, her hips rolling and grinding with increasing urgency. Her head fell back, her mouth open in what I imagined were moans of pleasure. Mr. Banerjee's hands moved restlessly over her body, squeezing her ass, sliding up to grope her breasts, then back down to grip her thighs.
I could see the muscles in Aradhya's stomach tensing, her thighs trembling. She was close, I realized with a mix of jealousy and excitement. I'd seen her approach orgasm countless times, I knew the signs. But I'd never seen her like this, so wanton, so uninhibited. Her grinding gradually became more erratic, her body jerking and shuddering. Her hands flew to the portly landlord’s head, fingers tangling in what was left of his greasy hair as she pressed herself more firmly against his mouth. Her back arched, her whole body going rigid for a moment before she started to shake. I watched, mesmerized, as my wife climaxed on our landlord's face. Her body undulated, hips rolling as she rode out her orgasm. Mr. Banerjee's hands gripped her ass tightly, holding her in place as he continued to lick and suck, prolonging her pleasure.
As Aradhya's movements slowed, becoming less frantic, more languid, I was struck by how different she looked. Gone was the hesitation, the reluctance from earlier. In its place was a look of pure satisfaction, of uninhibited pleasure. She looked down at our landlord, a smile playing on her lips that I'd never seen before - sultry, confident, almost predatory.
Mr. Banerjee said something, his words muffled by his position. Aradhya nodded, lifting herself off his face. As she moved, I could see that the old man’s face was glistening with her juices, his chin and cheeks slick and shiny. He licked his lips, a look of smug satisfaction on his pudgy face. My wife didn't move far. She turned around and shifted backwards, now straddling the fat guy’s substantial belly. Her hands moved to his belt, fumbling with the buckle. Mr. Banerjee's hands came up to help, their fingers tangling as they worked together to undo his pants.
I watched, a mix of horror and arousal churning in my gut, as Aradhya freed Mr. Banerjee's erection from his trousers. Even through the grainy video, I could see that he was fully hard, his cock standing at attention. Aradhya wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly. Mr. Banerjee's hips bucked upwards, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. His hands gripped Aradhya's plump ass, fingers digging into her flesh as she continued to stroke him. Mr. Banerjee's face contorted with pleasure, his mouth hanging open as he panted heavily. Aradhya's hand moved steadily, her grip firm as she worked his shaft.
Suddenly, Mr. Banerjee grunted something, his words inaudible through the silent video feed. Whatever filth he'd spewed caused my wife to freeze, her hand stilling on his veiny cock. Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief crossing her features.
Mr. Banerjee spoke again, his tone seeming insistent even without sound. His pudgy hands left her juicy butt, gesturing as he talked. I leaned closer to my phone screen, desperately wishing I could hear what depraved act he was demanding. To my shock, I felt a stirring in my groin, my cock starting to harden despite the revulsion churning in my gut. Aradhya slowly removed her hand from Mr. Banerjee's prick, wiping her palm on her thigh as if to rid herself of his slimy precum. She stood up, taking a step back from the couch. Her body language screamed discomfort - arms crossed over her chest, weight shifting from foot to foot.
The old landlord sat up, his sagging belly folding over itself as he leaned forward. He was still talking, his beady eyes fixed on my wife with an intensity that made my skin crawl. Whatever he was proposing, it was clear that she was hesitant.
His hands gradually began to roam, exploring my wife’s body through the sheer lace. He cupped her breast, his thick thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric. Aradhya arched into his touch, her face contorting in what I could only assume was a moan of pleasure.
I was rock hard in my office chair, my breath coming in short pants as I watched my wife being fondled by this repulsive man.
Mr. Banerjee broke the kiss, trailing his lips down Aradhya's neck, leaving a shiny trail of saliva. She tilted her head back, giving him better access, her eyes closed in pleasure. His hand moved lower, skimming over her stomach, down to the apex of her thighs. My wife’s body jerked slightly as his fingers brushed against her most intimate area, the thin lace doing little to dull the sensation. Her lips moved, forming a word I couldn't hear but could easily guess - his name.
Mr. Banerjee continued his ministrations, his fingers moving in slow circles over the lace. With his other hand, he tugged at the bodysuit, exposing more of her flesh to his hungry gaze and eager touch. His thick fingers hooked into her garments, peeling them away inch by inch. Each new expanse of skin revealed drew a grunt of appreciation from his throat. Aradhya trembled under his aggressive pawing, her breath coming in short gasps visible even through the grainy feed.
As his hands roamed possessively over her exposed dusky form, groping and squeezing with unrestrained lust, he pulled her into his lap, her lithe form a stark contrast to his corpulent body. His mouth attacked her throat, leaving angry red marks on her delicate skin. Their bodies moved together in a frenzied rhythm, the couch creaking ominously beneath them. Sweat glistened on their skin, the landlord's balding head shining in the apartment's light as he devoured my wife with animal hunger.
His thick fingers fumbled with the clasps of her bodysuit, his impatience evident as he practically tore at the delicate fabric. The garment finally gave way, peeling off her sweat-dampened skin with a soft, wet sound. She sat naked now in his lap, her perfect breasts bouncing free as he roughly yanked the last of the material away and tossed it aside. His meaty hands wasted no time returning to her flesh, pawing at her newly exposed body with renewed vigor. His movements grew more desperate, more primal, as his pudgy fingers found their way between her thighs. What the old landlord lacked in finesse, he made up for in raw enthusiasm. His digits worked frantically, plunging in and out of my wife's most intimate area with growing urgency. Her hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his hand in small, circular motions. The sight of my beautiful wife, writhing on this portly old fart's lap, sent a confusing mix of emotions coursing through me. Minutes passed, though they felt like hours. The old man's free hand continued its relentless exploration of Aradhya's body, groping and squeezing with unrestrained lust. His mouth latched onto her breast, sucking and nibbling with desperate hunger. Saliva dribbled down his chin, leaving glistening trails on her skin.
Suddenly, Mr. Banerjee's head jerked back. He said something, his thin lips moving rapidly. I leaned closer to my phone screen, wishing desperately that I could hear what he was saying. Whatever it was, it caused my wife to stiffen slightly, her eyes widening in what looked like surprise. He spoke again, his expression a mix of pleading and demand. She bit her lip, hesitation clear in her body language. She glanced towards the bedroom - towards the camera she didn't know existed - and for a moment, I thought she might refuse, might put an end to this encounter.
But then, slowly, she nodded.
Mr. Banerjee's face split into a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth bared in anticipation. He shifted on the couch, lying down on his back, his head propped up on the armrest. His potbelly rose and fell with his rapid breathing, his balding head gleaming with sweat. My wife stood, and I could see the slight trembling in her legs. She looked down at him, uncertainty written across her features. He said something else, gesturing impatiently with his hands. She took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself.
With careful movements, she climbed onto the couch, positioning herself above Mr. Banerjee's face. She hovered there for a moment, her thighs on either side of his head, her hands braced on the back of the couch for balance. Our landlord’s hands came up to grip her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he tried to pull her down. My wife resisted at first, maintaining her position just out of reach. I could see the conflict on her face, the last vestiges of hesitation warring with the desire that was clearly building. His face contorted into a stern glare, eyes flashing with dominance as he yanked her hips down roughly, forcing her to submit to his demands. His tongue darted out, wetting his thin lips as he stared up at her most intimate area.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Aradhya began to lower herself. Her eyes fluttered closed as Mr. Banerjee's mouth made contact with her sex. Her body tensed, then relaxed, a shudder running through her as our landlord's tongue began to explore. At first, she remained still, letting him do all the work. His head bobbed slightly as he licked and sucked, his hands still gripping her hips tightly. Aradhya's face was a mask of conflicting emotions - pleasure warring with discomfort, desire battling with shame. But as the minutes ticked by, I watched as the last of Aradhya's reluctance melted away. Her hips began to move, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence. She started to grind against Mr. Banerjee's face, her movements becoming more fluid, more purposeful.
Mr. Banerjee's hands slid from her hips to her ass, kneading the flesh roughly as he pulled her more firmly against his mouth. Aradhya's hands, previously braced on the back of the couch, moved to her breasts. She cupped them, pinching and rolling her nipples between her fingers.
The sight of my wife pleasuring herself while riding our landlord's face sent a jolt of arousal through me so intense it was almost painful. I shifted uncomfortably in my office chair, acutely aware of how hard I was, how desperately I wanted to touch myself. But I couldn't, not here, not now. All I could do was watch, captivated by the depraved scene unfolding on my phone screen.
Aradhya's movements became more frantic, her hips rolling and grinding with increasing urgency. Her head fell back, her mouth open in what I imagined were moans of pleasure. Mr. Banerjee's hands moved restlessly over her body, squeezing her ass, sliding up to grope her breasts, then back down to grip her thighs.
I could see the muscles in Aradhya's stomach tensing, her thighs trembling. She was close, I realized with a mix of jealousy and excitement. I'd seen her approach orgasm countless times, I knew the signs. But I'd never seen her like this, so wanton, so uninhibited. Her grinding gradually became more erratic, her body jerking and shuddering. Her hands flew to the portly landlord’s head, fingers tangling in what was left of his greasy hair as she pressed herself more firmly against his mouth. Her back arched, her whole body going rigid for a moment before she started to shake. I watched, mesmerized, as my wife climaxed on our landlord's face. Her body undulated, hips rolling as she rode out her orgasm. Mr. Banerjee's hands gripped her ass tightly, holding her in place as he continued to lick and suck, prolonging her pleasure.
As Aradhya's movements slowed, becoming less frantic, more languid, I was struck by how different she looked. Gone was the hesitation, the reluctance from earlier. In its place was a look of pure satisfaction, of uninhibited pleasure. She looked down at our landlord, a smile playing on her lips that I'd never seen before - sultry, confident, almost predatory.
Mr. Banerjee said something, his words muffled by his position. Aradhya nodded, lifting herself off his face. As she moved, I could see that the old man’s face was glistening with her juices, his chin and cheeks slick and shiny. He licked his lips, a look of smug satisfaction on his pudgy face. My wife didn't move far. She turned around and shifted backwards, now straddling the fat guy’s substantial belly. Her hands moved to his belt, fumbling with the buckle. Mr. Banerjee's hands came up to help, their fingers tangling as they worked together to undo his pants.
I watched, a mix of horror and arousal churning in my gut, as Aradhya freed Mr. Banerjee's erection from his trousers. Even through the grainy video, I could see that he was fully hard, his cock standing at attention. Aradhya wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly. Mr. Banerjee's hips bucked upwards, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. His hands gripped Aradhya's plump ass, fingers digging into her flesh as she continued to stroke him. Mr. Banerjee's face contorted with pleasure, his mouth hanging open as he panted heavily. Aradhya's hand moved steadily, her grip firm as she worked his shaft.
Suddenly, Mr. Banerjee grunted something, his words inaudible through the silent video feed. Whatever filth he'd spewed caused my wife to freeze, her hand stilling on his veiny cock. Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief crossing her features.
Mr. Banerjee spoke again, his tone seeming insistent even without sound. His pudgy hands left her juicy butt, gesturing as he talked. I leaned closer to my phone screen, desperately wishing I could hear what depraved act he was demanding. To my shock, I felt a stirring in my groin, my cock starting to harden despite the revulsion churning in my gut. Aradhya slowly removed her hand from Mr. Banerjee's prick, wiping her palm on her thigh as if to rid herself of his slimy precum. She stood up, taking a step back from the couch. Her body language screamed discomfort - arms crossed over her chest, weight shifting from foot to foot.
The old landlord sat up, his sagging belly folding over itself as he leaned forward. He was still talking, his beady eyes fixed on my wife with an intensity that made my skin crawl. Whatever he was proposing, it was clear that she was hesitant.
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