30-06-2019, 12:55 PM
The breath shot from her throat and, arching, she dropped her breasts to his mouth, forcing him to suck them sharply.
Prakash held his finger in her asshole, enjoying its heat and tightness. Her buttocks rocked and bounced over his bucking hips. She kissed him feverishly, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth.
"Oh god oh god oh god," she moaned. "You fuck me so well, Prakash ... it's so good ... don't stop, baby ... don't ever stop!"
She reared upright again, gasping and moaning, bucking faster and faster up and down on his pumping hips. He slid his finger out of her anus.
"Fuck me!" she cried. "Oh yes fuck me fuck me fuck me, Prakash! Keep fucking me! I want to be fucked and fucked and fucked! OHHHH uhhh OHHH uhh OHHH!"
Sexily, she rucked up her jacket in her hands, crumpling it, and dragged it over her breasts, squeezing and lifting them erotically, scbanging the aroused and sensitized nipples with the coarse handspun cloth.
Prakash groaned. It was an incredibly sexy sight. She arched her tongue slowly, wantonly over her curved upper lip, arching her head back and bucking up and down on his lap, her body shining and glistening with a sheen of sweat.
"Ohhh ... uhhhh yes ... oh ma uhhhh yes!" she hissed, erotically rolling the jacket over her nipples and grinding her hips round as she forced her cunt down on his cock so that it spiralled down onto the upright shaft. "OHHHHH uhhh yes ... god I want it! I want it all!"
He watched her expressions of lust, the way her breasts bounced, the way the gold necklace jumped and tossed on her tawny skin. Sensuously, she dragged her hands up her body to the nape of her neck, thrusting her breasts out, coiling her braid in a loose knot as she continued bouncing on his lap.
Her jacket opened wider, exposing her breasts. She kept her hands raised and her fingers interlaced behind her head.
"Hit my tits!" she moaned again. "Hit them hard!"
Prakash slapped her breasts and nipples with a sharp, stinging flick of the backs of his fingers.
"OH!" she gasped, making him cry out as her cunt convulsed frantically on his penis. "Again! Do it again! Harder!"
He struck her breasts again. Moans of joy erupted from her throat. He kept hitting her breasts. Her body trembled and shook as it bounced up and down on his lap, her cunt grinding and sliding along his penis in a frenzy, her buttocks cannoning off his thighs.
"Squeeze them now!" she cried. "Hard! OHH uhh yes! Oh god yes! Harder!"
He clenched her breasts and heaved powerfully under her, sending his cock ramming up into her cunt.
Anuja cried out, her face twisting and contorting in a grimace of lust, exciting him further. Looking at her reflection in the old, cracked mirror to one side, she paused, smiling inwardly in an explosion of joyous arousal and excitement: she knew the gardener would enjoy seeing them both in the mirror.
"Fuck me from behind," she cried. "Like you did last time. Fuck me in front of the mirror ... I want to see you fucking me!"
The gardener was strong and virile, able to fuck her at length, as hard as she wanted. With him, now, here, she was no longer the *memsahib*; she was his whore, to fuck and enjoy at his pleasure.
She slipped off his cock, moaning and panting feverishly and quickly turned on her forearms and knees on the bed, facing the cracked mirror. Her breasts hung swollen and pendulous like succulent fruit, her long gold necklace swung free.
She thrust a hand between her legs and clawed her cunt-lips open. Kneeling behind her, Prakash moaned softly in lust.
He stared wildly at her reflection in the mirror, her face tilted up, her eyes bright and dark, glittering with lust, her nostrils flared, her luscious lips parted, her swollen breasts and gold chain swaying, the dark beauty spots on her face tempting him; and then his eyes jerked back to the smooth curves of her buttocks and, beneath, the wet, open lips of her cunt, held wide open in the first two slender, shapely fingers of one hand, the finger-rings glittering.
"Fuck me!" she cried. "C'mon, Prakash! Fuck me hard! Shove your cock right up into my cunt! Fuck me like a bitch ... like a whore! Fuck me hard!"
Prakash moaned in feverish desperation and pushed his cock between her buttocks and to her cunt-lips, past her fingers and, flexing his buttocks and snapping his hips sharply, rammed his cock deep into her cunt in a long, surging and skewering thrust.
"OHMAUHHHAHHHUHHHOHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Anuja cried as his penis plunged into her cunt, her face contorting and twisting in a paroxysm of lust and joy. "OH uh OH uh OH uh OH uh OHHHHH!"
"YES! C'MON TAKE IT, WHORE!" he shouted. "C'mon bitch! Take it!"
He began to fuck her violently, gripping her hips, slamming his own back and forth, hammering her buttocks with his hips with loud smacking slaps, driving his throbbing cock in and out of her cunt.
Their reflections in the mirror were a major turn-on. Every thrust made her lurch forward. Her body rocked and swung beneath his. Her breasts shook and wobbled, and her gold necklace swung furiously back and forth.
Prakash held his finger in her asshole, enjoying its heat and tightness. Her buttocks rocked and bounced over his bucking hips. She kissed him feverishly, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth.
"Oh god oh god oh god," she moaned. "You fuck me so well, Prakash ... it's so good ... don't stop, baby ... don't ever stop!"
She reared upright again, gasping and moaning, bucking faster and faster up and down on his pumping hips. He slid his finger out of her anus.
"Fuck me!" she cried. "Oh yes fuck me fuck me fuck me, Prakash! Keep fucking me! I want to be fucked and fucked and fucked! OHHHH uhhh OHHH uhh OHHH!"
Sexily, she rucked up her jacket in her hands, crumpling it, and dragged it over her breasts, squeezing and lifting them erotically, scbanging the aroused and sensitized nipples with the coarse handspun cloth.
Prakash groaned. It was an incredibly sexy sight. She arched her tongue slowly, wantonly over her curved upper lip, arching her head back and bucking up and down on his lap, her body shining and glistening with a sheen of sweat.
"Ohhh ... uhhhh yes ... oh ma uhhhh yes!" she hissed, erotically rolling the jacket over her nipples and grinding her hips round as she forced her cunt down on his cock so that it spiralled down onto the upright shaft. "OHHHHH uhhh yes ... god I want it! I want it all!"
He watched her expressions of lust, the way her breasts bounced, the way the gold necklace jumped and tossed on her tawny skin. Sensuously, she dragged her hands up her body to the nape of her neck, thrusting her breasts out, coiling her braid in a loose knot as she continued bouncing on his lap.
Her jacket opened wider, exposing her breasts. She kept her hands raised and her fingers interlaced behind her head.
"Hit my tits!" she moaned again. "Hit them hard!"
Prakash slapped her breasts and nipples with a sharp, stinging flick of the backs of his fingers.
"OH!" she gasped, making him cry out as her cunt convulsed frantically on his penis. "Again! Do it again! Harder!"
He struck her breasts again. Moans of joy erupted from her throat. He kept hitting her breasts. Her body trembled and shook as it bounced up and down on his lap, her cunt grinding and sliding along his penis in a frenzy, her buttocks cannoning off his thighs.
"Squeeze them now!" she cried. "Hard! OHH uhh yes! Oh god yes! Harder!"
He clenched her breasts and heaved powerfully under her, sending his cock ramming up into her cunt.
Anuja cried out, her face twisting and contorting in a grimace of lust, exciting him further. Looking at her reflection in the old, cracked mirror to one side, she paused, smiling inwardly in an explosion of joyous arousal and excitement: she knew the gardener would enjoy seeing them both in the mirror.
"Fuck me from behind," she cried. "Like you did last time. Fuck me in front of the mirror ... I want to see you fucking me!"
The gardener was strong and virile, able to fuck her at length, as hard as she wanted. With him, now, here, she was no longer the *memsahib*; she was his whore, to fuck and enjoy at his pleasure.
She slipped off his cock, moaning and panting feverishly and quickly turned on her forearms and knees on the bed, facing the cracked mirror. Her breasts hung swollen and pendulous like succulent fruit, her long gold necklace swung free.
She thrust a hand between her legs and clawed her cunt-lips open. Kneeling behind her, Prakash moaned softly in lust.
He stared wildly at her reflection in the mirror, her face tilted up, her eyes bright and dark, glittering with lust, her nostrils flared, her luscious lips parted, her swollen breasts and gold chain swaying, the dark beauty spots on her face tempting him; and then his eyes jerked back to the smooth curves of her buttocks and, beneath, the wet, open lips of her cunt, held wide open in the first two slender, shapely fingers of one hand, the finger-rings glittering.
"Fuck me!" she cried. "C'mon, Prakash! Fuck me hard! Shove your cock right up into my cunt! Fuck me like a bitch ... like a whore! Fuck me hard!"
Prakash moaned in feverish desperation and pushed his cock between her buttocks and to her cunt-lips, past her fingers and, flexing his buttocks and snapping his hips sharply, rammed his cock deep into her cunt in a long, surging and skewering thrust.
"OHMAUHHHAHHHUHHHOHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Anuja cried as his penis plunged into her cunt, her face contorting and twisting in a paroxysm of lust and joy. "OH uh OH uh OH uh OH uh OHHHHH!"
"YES! C'MON TAKE IT, WHORE!" he shouted. "C'mon bitch! Take it!"
He began to fuck her violently, gripping her hips, slamming his own back and forth, hammering her buttocks with his hips with loud smacking slaps, driving his throbbing cock in and out of her cunt.
Their reflections in the mirror were a major turn-on. Every thrust made her lurch forward. Her body rocked and swung beneath his. Her breasts shook and wobbled, and her gold necklace swung furiously back and forth.
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