05-04-2025, 09:46 AM
I clutched my phone tighter, my chest tight with a mix of revulsion and that warped heat I couldn’t shake. Seeing him defile her clothes, then offer himself up like some grotesque beast—it was too much, another layer of my inadequacy piling on. She was about to sink lower for him, and I was stuck here, helpless, my cock twitching uselessly as I watched her bend to his will again.
Aradhya hovered behind him, her hands trembling as she stared at his hairy, sagging ass thrust up on the couch, the pale, pudgy cheeks smeared with sweat and streaked with grime from days unwashed. The thick, wiry hairs sprouted wild and matted, clumped with a faint, brown crust near the crack—some leftover filth he didn’t bother cleaning, now waiting for her tongue. Her face twisted, lips curling in pure disgust, her eyes darting away like she could escape the sight.
She gagged before she even started, her shoulders heaving as she leaned in, her nose wrinkling at the sour, rancid stench I could only imagine—a mix of sweat, grime, and old man musk wafting off him. Her hands gripped his hairy thighs, fingers sinking into the flabby rolls as she steadied herself, and then her tongue flicked out—tentative, trembling—brushing the sweaty crease where his ass met his leg. He shuddered, his paunch jiggling as he pushed back, forcing her face deeper into the mess. She recoiled, but his grip tightened, smashing her nose against the hairy crack, her lips smearing into the damp, filthy skin as she gave in.
Her tongue dragged slow and sloppy across the puckered hole, the hairs sticking to her mouth as she lapped at it, spit mixing with the grime to form a slick, brownish drool that dribbled down her chin. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners as she choked through it, her face buried in his stench, her lips sucking at the sweaty folds while he rocked back, groaning silently while his crooked teeth bared in perverse glee. A stray hair stuck to her tongue, and she gagged again, her throat bobbing as she swallowed down the taste, her dusky cheeks flushed with shame and nausea. He spread his knees wider, his sagging balls dangling low, brushing her neck as she worked, the crusty residue smearing across her lips like a sick trophy.
I stared, bile rising in my throat as I watched her tongue bathe his filthy ass—a rimjob, my mind screamed, the word slicing through me like a blade. It was vile, worse than anything she’d done with him before, her beautiful face defiled by his hairy, shitty crack. And yet, to my shock, my cock twitched harder, surging with a heat so fierce it drowned the disgust, leaving me reeling. He was a pig, a sweaty, stinking beast, and she was licking him clean—my Aradhya, my sweet pretty wife, reduced to this—and I was fucking turned on, the twisted thrill pulsing through me until I couldn’t deny it. My hand shook, not from shame but from need, hovering over myself, stunned that his depravity didn’t just dwarf me—it lit me up, dragging me into the filth with them.
Meanwhile, the sick, twisted old landlord rocked harder, his hairy ass grinding into her face, smearing her with more sweat and filth as she slurped and sucked, her tongue digging deeper despite the gags racking her body. The bastard’s body tensed in a new way—his sagging balls tightened, and his cock, still hanging between his thighs, twitched and swelled, growing hard again, the thick, veiny shaft rising with a vigor that defied his age.
He glanced over his shoulder, his beady eyes glinting with that sick delight, and mouthed something sharp and his hand gesturing toward his reawakened hard-on. My wife's shaky hand slid forward, reaching between his hairy thighs from behind, fingers wrapping around his sweaty, pulsing cock. She stroked him, slow at first, her grip slick with spit and grime as she tongued his ass, the dual act making her gag harder, her throat convulsing as she serviced him front and back.
Her dusky fingers pumped faster, the veiny shaft throbbing under her touch, precum leaking onto the couch as she licked deeper, her disgust swallowed by his will. He groaned silently, his hairy frame shuddering, lost in the double pleasure—her tongue in his filthy crack, her hand jerking his swollen cock. But then, abruptly, he stopped, pulling away with a rough grunt. His hand yanked her hair hard, dragging her up from her knees, her face a mess of sweat, spit, and smeared filth as she stumbled to her feet. He mouthed something—maybe “Bedroom, now”—his crooked teeth flashing as he hauled her toward the hall, her naked body staggering behind him.
They disappeared from the living room feed, and my heart lurched, fingers fumbling to switch to the bedroom camera—one I’d hidden in the corner, angled perfectly at the bed. The screen flickered, then cleared, and there they were: him shoving her onto the mattress, her curvy frame bouncing as she landed, her face still twisted in reluctant submission. He climbed up after her, his hard-on bobbing, hairy ass swaying as he positioned himself, ready to take her further, his dominance unbroken and hungry for more.
The bedroom feed sharpened, and my breath hitched—Aradhya on the mattress, her curvy frame trembling as the perverted Mr. Banerjee loomed behind her, his hairy, pudgy body a grotesque shadow against her dusky skin. This was it, the second time I’d watch her get fucked by another man, and the anticipation clawed at me, sharper than before. Having said that, Mr. Banerjee was completely different compared to that low-class plumber. He was shorter, only a couple inches taller than my sweet dusky wife, his balding head and sagging paunch a far cry from Harpreet’s chiseled bulk. Where Harpreet was raw power, Banerjee was perverse decay, his hairy ass and thick beard reeking of filth, his dominance less about strength and more about sleazy control. Yet here he was, hard again, his thick, veiny cock swaying ready to claim her in our marital bed.
He grabbed her hips, yanking her up onto her knees with a rough tug, positioning her ass in the air—doggy style, just like Harpreet had done, but this felt dirtier, more humiliating. Aradhya’s hands clutched the sheets, her face half-buried in the pillow, her plump ass trembling as he lined himself up. His pudgy fingers dug into her flesh, spreading her cheeks, his crooked teeth glinting as he pressed the fat, leaking head of his cock against her entrance. She tensed, her body stiffening, and I could see the struggle already—his girth was monstrous, a slab of meat that dwarfed me, and even Harpreet hadn’t stretched her like this was about to.
He pushed in slow, the thick head forcing her open, and her mouth gaped—maybe a silent yelp—as her pussy strained around him, the lips stretching tight, glistening with reluctant wetness. She shifted forward, instinctively pulling away, but his hands clamped harder, pulling her back as he sank deeper, inch by veiny inch. Her thighs quivered, her face twisting in discomfort. Compared with me, it was immense—my thin, average-length prick slipped in easy, barely filling her, but this—this was a battle, her body fighting to accommodate his obscene size, her pussy clutching him like it couldn’t cope.
Mr. Banerjee groaned silently, his hairy back arching as he buried himself halfway, then thrust harder, forcing more in. Aradhya’s hands fisted the sheets, her knuckles whitening, her ass jiggling with every push as he stretched her wider than I’d ever seen. My chest tightened, anticipation and dread twisting together. The landlord was slow, teasing, cruel, his girth splitting her open while his paunch slapped her back, a filthy old man ruining her where I’d failed. My cock throbbed, harder than with Harpreet, the shame of my inadequacy burning hotter—she’d never struggled with me, never winced, because I was nothing compared to this old, ugly beast tearing into her now.
Our landlord gradually picked up the pace, his saggy hairy ass clenching as he pounded her, his balls swinging heavy against her thighs, her pussy gripping him tight, slick but strained. Her head dropped lower, her moans lost to me - his dominance owning her in ways I never could, and I hated it, loved it, drowned in it all at once. Sweat poured off him, his pudgy frame glistening, droplets matting his thick beard and hairy back as he thrust deeper, his massive cock stretching her wide. Aradhya’s dusky skin shone too, slick with perspiration, her curvy body rocking under him. She lifted her head slightly, her bouncy tits swaying beneath her, jiggling with every thrust, the dark nipples hard and glistening with sweat. Her hands unclenched from the sheets, sliding back to grip his hairy thighs, pulling him in deeper, aiding him now as her hips rocked back to meet his pounding. Her face softened, lips parting wider—maybe a moan, maybe his name—her reluctance melting into a reluctant pleasure, then something more, her body bouncing eagerly under his sweaty bulk
Mr. Banerjee grinned. His crooked teeth flashing as his paunch slapped her ass with wet, meaty smacks, his stamina relentless. He’d been at her for what felt like forever - longer than I could ever dream of lasting with my pathetic, quick-trigger dick. This old bastard, his balding head dripping, his hairy ass pumping, was giving her what I never could, his thick cock plowing her for ages while I’d have finished in seconds. Sweat streaked down her back, pooling in the curve of her spine, her bouncy tits swinging faster as she pushed back harder, urging him on, lost in the filthy thrill of it. He’d outlasted me a hundred times over, and I hated him, envied him, burned for it, my hand twitching closer to my cock, fighting the inevitable even as I drowned in their filthy, endless fuck.
Mr. Banerjee’s thrusts soon slowed, his pudgy hands sliding from her hips up her slick back, guiding her with a firm but steady grip. My wife sensed the shift, her rhythm easing as she pushed back less frantically. His fingers dug into her waist, urging her to rise, and she followed, lifting her hips with a smooth, deliberate motion, his thick, glistening cock slipping free from her pussy with a wet, heavy slide. He sank fully onto his back then, his hairy, sweaty body sprawling flat across the bed, paunch rising and falling as he settled into the sheets.
She pivoted smoothly, her knees sliding along the mattress as she turned to face him, straddling his hips in one fluid motion, her fat ass brushing his hairy thighs. Aradhya hovered above him, her trimmed bush grazing his hairy crotch as she rocked her hips, grinding against his slick shaft, teasing him with the heat of her pussy smearing their sweat together. Her bouncy tits jiggled with the motion, dark nipples stiff and glistening, and she bit her lip—maybe a moan slipping out—her eyes half-lidded with lust, fully committed now. His hands shot up, grabbing her tits aggressively, pudgy fingers sinking into the soft flesh, squeezing hard enough to make them bulge between his knuckles as he twisted her nipples with a rough tug, his beard twitching with delight.
She sank down, taking his massive cock back inside her with a slow, eager thrust, her pussy swallowing him as she started to ride. Her hands planted on his sweaty chest, fingers curling into the matted hair for leverage, and her plump, womanly ass bounced, slapping his thighs with wet, rhythmic smacks. Her tits jiggled wildly in his grip as he mauled them—kneading, slapping, pinching them red—his aggressive play making them bounce even more as she set the pace. Sweat dripped from her brow onto his hairy belly, mingling with his own as she rolled her hips, grinding down hard, her body a sweaty, eager mess driving the filthy rhythm all on her own.
I watched, my phone shaking in my grip, the stall’s cold air a faint whisper against the inferno inside me. Her eagerness—gosh, she was loving it, riding him like I’d never seen, her bouncy tits dancing under his filthy hands, and I couldn’t breathe. My cock pulsed, leaking, my hand so close but paralyzed—knowing one touch and I’d blow, my premature curse mocking me while this sweaty, hairy old bastard lasted forever, pleasuring her in ways my thin prick never could. I hated it, craved it, drowned in the contrast of her lust and my failure.
Aradhya’s pace quickened, her hips rolling faster, grinding his thick cock deeper inside her as her breath hitched—visible in the rapid rise of her bosom. Her hands pressed into his hairy chest, nails digging into the sweaty mat as her body tensed, her thighs clamping tight around his hips. Then it hit—her head snapped forward, mouth wide in a silent scream, her eyes squeezing shut as she came, her pussy clenching around him in shuddering waves. Her juicy ass trembled, her whole frame shaking as she rode out the orgasm, sweat pouring off her brow, dripping onto his hairy belly until she slumped forward, collapsing onto his chest, her slick tits flattening against his hairy pecs, her plastered hair splayed across his shoulder. I couldn’t hold back anymore—my hand darted to my cock, wrapping around its pitiful length, and I stroked once, twice, my premature curse kicking in as I exploded in seconds, hot spurts splattering my thigh, perfectly timed with what came next, my shame and relief crashing together.
Mr. Banerjee grunted his pudgy face twisting as her weight settled on him, her heaving breaths syncing with his. His hands slid from her tits to her hips, gripping her slick skin as he mustered his last reserves of energy. His hairy legs flexed, knees bending slightly as he planted his feet on the mattress, and he thrust up—slow at first, his paunch jiggling with the effort, his thick cock plunging into her still-quivering pussy. Aradhya gasped, her head lifting slightly, her hands weakly clutching his shoulders as he pumped into her, his hairy crotch slapping her bush with wet, labored smacks. His energy was fading, each thrust a struggle, but he kept going, his balding head slick with sweat, his thick beard trembling as he chased his own release.
His thrusts grew erratic, his hairy ass clenching as he drove into her, his balls tightening against her thighs. Aradhya’s body rocked with him, her tits bouncing faintly against his chest, her pussy gripping him tight as he pushed harder, his last gasps of strength pouring out. Then his mouth gaped—maybe “Fuck”—his crooked teeth bared as his body seized, his cock pulsing inside her. He came, thick spurts flooding her, his hips jerking unevenly as he emptied himself, sweat streaming down his face, pooling in the creases of his paunch. His thrusts stuttered to a stop, his energy spent, and he collapsed fully beneath her, his hairy chest heaving, his slick, flabby body a sweaty wreck tangled with hers.
Aradhya hovered behind him, her hands trembling as she stared at his hairy, sagging ass thrust up on the couch, the pale, pudgy cheeks smeared with sweat and streaked with grime from days unwashed. The thick, wiry hairs sprouted wild and matted, clumped with a faint, brown crust near the crack—some leftover filth he didn’t bother cleaning, now waiting for her tongue. Her face twisted, lips curling in pure disgust, her eyes darting away like she could escape the sight.
She gagged before she even started, her shoulders heaving as she leaned in, her nose wrinkling at the sour, rancid stench I could only imagine—a mix of sweat, grime, and old man musk wafting off him. Her hands gripped his hairy thighs, fingers sinking into the flabby rolls as she steadied herself, and then her tongue flicked out—tentative, trembling—brushing the sweaty crease where his ass met his leg. He shuddered, his paunch jiggling as he pushed back, forcing her face deeper into the mess. She recoiled, but his grip tightened, smashing her nose against the hairy crack, her lips smearing into the damp, filthy skin as she gave in.
Her tongue dragged slow and sloppy across the puckered hole, the hairs sticking to her mouth as she lapped at it, spit mixing with the grime to form a slick, brownish drool that dribbled down her chin. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners as she choked through it, her face buried in his stench, her lips sucking at the sweaty folds while he rocked back, groaning silently while his crooked teeth bared in perverse glee. A stray hair stuck to her tongue, and she gagged again, her throat bobbing as she swallowed down the taste, her dusky cheeks flushed with shame and nausea. He spread his knees wider, his sagging balls dangling low, brushing her neck as she worked, the crusty residue smearing across her lips like a sick trophy.
I stared, bile rising in my throat as I watched her tongue bathe his filthy ass—a rimjob, my mind screamed, the word slicing through me like a blade. It was vile, worse than anything she’d done with him before, her beautiful face defiled by his hairy, shitty crack. And yet, to my shock, my cock twitched harder, surging with a heat so fierce it drowned the disgust, leaving me reeling. He was a pig, a sweaty, stinking beast, and she was licking him clean—my Aradhya, my sweet pretty wife, reduced to this—and I was fucking turned on, the twisted thrill pulsing through me until I couldn’t deny it. My hand shook, not from shame but from need, hovering over myself, stunned that his depravity didn’t just dwarf me—it lit me up, dragging me into the filth with them.
Meanwhile, the sick, twisted old landlord rocked harder, his hairy ass grinding into her face, smearing her with more sweat and filth as she slurped and sucked, her tongue digging deeper despite the gags racking her body. The bastard’s body tensed in a new way—his sagging balls tightened, and his cock, still hanging between his thighs, twitched and swelled, growing hard again, the thick, veiny shaft rising with a vigor that defied his age.
He glanced over his shoulder, his beady eyes glinting with that sick delight, and mouthed something sharp and his hand gesturing toward his reawakened hard-on. My wife's shaky hand slid forward, reaching between his hairy thighs from behind, fingers wrapping around his sweaty, pulsing cock. She stroked him, slow at first, her grip slick with spit and grime as she tongued his ass, the dual act making her gag harder, her throat convulsing as she serviced him front and back.
Her dusky fingers pumped faster, the veiny shaft throbbing under her touch, precum leaking onto the couch as she licked deeper, her disgust swallowed by his will. He groaned silently, his hairy frame shuddering, lost in the double pleasure—her tongue in his filthy crack, her hand jerking his swollen cock. But then, abruptly, he stopped, pulling away with a rough grunt. His hand yanked her hair hard, dragging her up from her knees, her face a mess of sweat, spit, and smeared filth as she stumbled to her feet. He mouthed something—maybe “Bedroom, now”—his crooked teeth flashing as he hauled her toward the hall, her naked body staggering behind him.
They disappeared from the living room feed, and my heart lurched, fingers fumbling to switch to the bedroom camera—one I’d hidden in the corner, angled perfectly at the bed. The screen flickered, then cleared, and there they were: him shoving her onto the mattress, her curvy frame bouncing as she landed, her face still twisted in reluctant submission. He climbed up after her, his hard-on bobbing, hairy ass swaying as he positioned himself, ready to take her further, his dominance unbroken and hungry for more.
The bedroom feed sharpened, and my breath hitched—Aradhya on the mattress, her curvy frame trembling as the perverted Mr. Banerjee loomed behind her, his hairy, pudgy body a grotesque shadow against her dusky skin. This was it, the second time I’d watch her get fucked by another man, and the anticipation clawed at me, sharper than before. Having said that, Mr. Banerjee was completely different compared to that low-class plumber. He was shorter, only a couple inches taller than my sweet dusky wife, his balding head and sagging paunch a far cry from Harpreet’s chiseled bulk. Where Harpreet was raw power, Banerjee was perverse decay, his hairy ass and thick beard reeking of filth, his dominance less about strength and more about sleazy control. Yet here he was, hard again, his thick, veiny cock swaying ready to claim her in our marital bed.
He grabbed her hips, yanking her up onto her knees with a rough tug, positioning her ass in the air—doggy style, just like Harpreet had done, but this felt dirtier, more humiliating. Aradhya’s hands clutched the sheets, her face half-buried in the pillow, her plump ass trembling as he lined himself up. His pudgy fingers dug into her flesh, spreading her cheeks, his crooked teeth glinting as he pressed the fat, leaking head of his cock against her entrance. She tensed, her body stiffening, and I could see the struggle already—his girth was monstrous, a slab of meat that dwarfed me, and even Harpreet hadn’t stretched her like this was about to.
He pushed in slow, the thick head forcing her open, and her mouth gaped—maybe a silent yelp—as her pussy strained around him, the lips stretching tight, glistening with reluctant wetness. She shifted forward, instinctively pulling away, but his hands clamped harder, pulling her back as he sank deeper, inch by veiny inch. Her thighs quivered, her face twisting in discomfort. Compared with me, it was immense—my thin, average-length prick slipped in easy, barely filling her, but this—this was a battle, her body fighting to accommodate his obscene size, her pussy clutching him like it couldn’t cope.
Mr. Banerjee groaned silently, his hairy back arching as he buried himself halfway, then thrust harder, forcing more in. Aradhya’s hands fisted the sheets, her knuckles whitening, her ass jiggling with every push as he stretched her wider than I’d ever seen. My chest tightened, anticipation and dread twisting together. The landlord was slow, teasing, cruel, his girth splitting her open while his paunch slapped her back, a filthy old man ruining her where I’d failed. My cock throbbed, harder than with Harpreet, the shame of my inadequacy burning hotter—she’d never struggled with me, never winced, because I was nothing compared to this old, ugly beast tearing into her now.
Our landlord gradually picked up the pace, his saggy hairy ass clenching as he pounded her, his balls swinging heavy against her thighs, her pussy gripping him tight, slick but strained. Her head dropped lower, her moans lost to me - his dominance owning her in ways I never could, and I hated it, loved it, drowned in it all at once. Sweat poured off him, his pudgy frame glistening, droplets matting his thick beard and hairy back as he thrust deeper, his massive cock stretching her wide. Aradhya’s dusky skin shone too, slick with perspiration, her curvy body rocking under him. She lifted her head slightly, her bouncy tits swaying beneath her, jiggling with every thrust, the dark nipples hard and glistening with sweat. Her hands unclenched from the sheets, sliding back to grip his hairy thighs, pulling him in deeper, aiding him now as her hips rocked back to meet his pounding. Her face softened, lips parting wider—maybe a moan, maybe his name—her reluctance melting into a reluctant pleasure, then something more, her body bouncing eagerly under his sweaty bulk
Mr. Banerjee grinned. His crooked teeth flashing as his paunch slapped her ass with wet, meaty smacks, his stamina relentless. He’d been at her for what felt like forever - longer than I could ever dream of lasting with my pathetic, quick-trigger dick. This old bastard, his balding head dripping, his hairy ass pumping, was giving her what I never could, his thick cock plowing her for ages while I’d have finished in seconds. Sweat streaked down her back, pooling in the curve of her spine, her bouncy tits swinging faster as she pushed back harder, urging him on, lost in the filthy thrill of it. He’d outlasted me a hundred times over, and I hated him, envied him, burned for it, my hand twitching closer to my cock, fighting the inevitable even as I drowned in their filthy, endless fuck.
Mr. Banerjee’s thrusts soon slowed, his pudgy hands sliding from her hips up her slick back, guiding her with a firm but steady grip. My wife sensed the shift, her rhythm easing as she pushed back less frantically. His fingers dug into her waist, urging her to rise, and she followed, lifting her hips with a smooth, deliberate motion, his thick, glistening cock slipping free from her pussy with a wet, heavy slide. He sank fully onto his back then, his hairy, sweaty body sprawling flat across the bed, paunch rising and falling as he settled into the sheets.
She pivoted smoothly, her knees sliding along the mattress as she turned to face him, straddling his hips in one fluid motion, her fat ass brushing his hairy thighs. Aradhya hovered above him, her trimmed bush grazing his hairy crotch as she rocked her hips, grinding against his slick shaft, teasing him with the heat of her pussy smearing their sweat together. Her bouncy tits jiggled with the motion, dark nipples stiff and glistening, and she bit her lip—maybe a moan slipping out—her eyes half-lidded with lust, fully committed now. His hands shot up, grabbing her tits aggressively, pudgy fingers sinking into the soft flesh, squeezing hard enough to make them bulge between his knuckles as he twisted her nipples with a rough tug, his beard twitching with delight.
She sank down, taking his massive cock back inside her with a slow, eager thrust, her pussy swallowing him as she started to ride. Her hands planted on his sweaty chest, fingers curling into the matted hair for leverage, and her plump, womanly ass bounced, slapping his thighs with wet, rhythmic smacks. Her tits jiggled wildly in his grip as he mauled them—kneading, slapping, pinching them red—his aggressive play making them bounce even more as she set the pace. Sweat dripped from her brow onto his hairy belly, mingling with his own as she rolled her hips, grinding down hard, her body a sweaty, eager mess driving the filthy rhythm all on her own.
I watched, my phone shaking in my grip, the stall’s cold air a faint whisper against the inferno inside me. Her eagerness—gosh, she was loving it, riding him like I’d never seen, her bouncy tits dancing under his filthy hands, and I couldn’t breathe. My cock pulsed, leaking, my hand so close but paralyzed—knowing one touch and I’d blow, my premature curse mocking me while this sweaty, hairy old bastard lasted forever, pleasuring her in ways my thin prick never could. I hated it, craved it, drowned in the contrast of her lust and my failure.
Aradhya’s pace quickened, her hips rolling faster, grinding his thick cock deeper inside her as her breath hitched—visible in the rapid rise of her bosom. Her hands pressed into his hairy chest, nails digging into the sweaty mat as her body tensed, her thighs clamping tight around his hips. Then it hit—her head snapped forward, mouth wide in a silent scream, her eyes squeezing shut as she came, her pussy clenching around him in shuddering waves. Her juicy ass trembled, her whole frame shaking as she rode out the orgasm, sweat pouring off her brow, dripping onto his hairy belly until she slumped forward, collapsing onto his chest, her slick tits flattening against his hairy pecs, her plastered hair splayed across his shoulder. I couldn’t hold back anymore—my hand darted to my cock, wrapping around its pitiful length, and I stroked once, twice, my premature curse kicking in as I exploded in seconds, hot spurts splattering my thigh, perfectly timed with what came next, my shame and relief crashing together.
Mr. Banerjee grunted his pudgy face twisting as her weight settled on him, her heaving breaths syncing with his. His hands slid from her tits to her hips, gripping her slick skin as he mustered his last reserves of energy. His hairy legs flexed, knees bending slightly as he planted his feet on the mattress, and he thrust up—slow at first, his paunch jiggling with the effort, his thick cock plunging into her still-quivering pussy. Aradhya gasped, her head lifting slightly, her hands weakly clutching his shoulders as he pumped into her, his hairy crotch slapping her bush with wet, labored smacks. His energy was fading, each thrust a struggle, but he kept going, his balding head slick with sweat, his thick beard trembling as he chased his own release.
His thrusts grew erratic, his hairy ass clenching as he drove into her, his balls tightening against her thighs. Aradhya’s body rocked with him, her tits bouncing faintly against his chest, her pussy gripping him tight as he pushed harder, his last gasps of strength pouring out. Then his mouth gaped—maybe “Fuck”—his crooked teeth bared as his body seized, his cock pulsing inside her. He came, thick spurts flooding her, his hips jerking unevenly as he emptied himself, sweat streaming down his face, pooling in the creases of his paunch. His thrusts stuttered to a stop, his energy spent, and he collapsed fully beneath her, his hairy chest heaving, his slick, flabby body a sweaty wreck tangled with hers.
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