30-06-2019, 03:09 PM
There, Anjali was fucking one of the house-servants. He lay on his back and she knelt over his lap, her cunt impaled on his cock, rocking up and down, gasping and moaning feverishly. Her gold necklace slapped on her dusky skin. Her large breasts, swollen with excitement, the long nipples stiff, bounced with her movements.
The servant, a dark, handsome youth with a muscular physique and big penis, grinned up at her and squeezed her breasts. She moaned, leaning back to caress his balls, hissing in pleasure as he fingered her clitoris. She looked down at him, smiling radiantly, swirling her hips in tight, round, erotic circles.
"Fuck yes ... oh fuck yes Ohhhhhhh yes!" Anjali gasped. "Oh that's so good!"
She moved faster and faster, grinding her hips round and round on his lap, churning her cunt with his cock. Her face contorted with excitement and she squeezed her breasts in a frenzy. The young servant grunted and bucked his hips up and down under her.
The camera swirled behind and moved to a close-up of Anjali's buttocks flexing and unflexing, her cunt sliding up and down the length of his monstrous penis, the cock emerging and disappearing from her cunt. She moved faster and faster, and her anus winked as her buttocks opened and closed.
The man gripped her buttocks and began jerking her up and down on his cock. His balls bucked against her buttocks and she leaned back to squeeze them in excitement. Her buttocks bounced off his thighs.
The camera cut to a close-up of Manisha's face, her eyes hard and cold, a determined smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in a loose white button-down shirt of some fine material that clung to her splendid curves, and a long skirt. She cupped her breasts slowly, her hands meeting in her cleavage, little fingers together.
The camera backed away a little and showed her in the corridor looking in. Across the door, on the other side of the passage, another servant appeared, moving away. He paused, looked up. Manisha caught his eye and a delightful, gamin smile lit her face. She beckoned to him, her finger on her lips signaling silence and motioned to him to look inside.
The servant, a dark, sturdy young man with fine features, clad in shorts and a vest, peeked in. A grin split his handsome face, showing very white, very even teeth. The camera moved between them and entered the room again.
On the couch, Falu sighed to herself, feeling very horny. She remembered the wonderful fucking during filming - not one orgasm was faked - and, more recently, of that afternoon. She needed a man. She jabbed a button on a red intercom telephone. It was answered promptly.
"Yes, this is three-oh-five. I want to speak to driver Lewis, please." A minute later, "Lewis? This is Falu. Would you come up please? I want to fuck. No, just you. Your friend can come up later."
She cradled the receiver and, smiling to herself, looked at the screen again. Manisha and the servant were still watching the others, but now he was beside her, behind her, close to her, caressing her. She turned her face up and he kissed her, his hand on her breast, her hand in his crotch.
"Fuck me," she whispered. "I want your cock in my slit."
The servant grinned. "What about them?"
"Look at them. Who cares?" Manisha said. "Forget them."
"Where d'you want to go?"
"Her room," Manisha pointed to Falu.
The camera snapped to a shot inside the room. Now Falu and Anjali had swapped partners. Falu was on her back on the bed with the servant, while Anjali and Mohan were at it on the floor. Falu gasped and cried out, her back arching, her hips writhing and heaving, her body jerking and rocking.
The handsome servant, Deepak, bent over on outstretched arms, his body weight on his toes, his buttocks flexing and unflexing, his hips rocking up and down, his penis plunging and pistoning in and out of her cunt. She clung to his shoulders, gasping in pleasure, her head rolling from side to side, her long *mangalsutra* slithering on her fair skin.
Her legs opened wider and her feet climbed up the backs of his thighs. She clenched his buttocks, dragging him deeper into her flesh.
"C'mon c'mon c'mon fuck me fuck me fuck me," she moaned in an obscene litany. "Oh yes yes ohhh god yes yes fuck me lover fuck me fuck my slit!"
The camera lingered on their bucking bodies, both glistening with sweat. Deepak bent his head and kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and she moaned loudly, clenching his head, her arm around his shoulders, the other hand sliding down to his buttocks, a finger pressing to his anus.
The servant groaned and, sucking her swollen breasts, ground his hips in circles, spiralling deeply into her. Falu gasped in pleasure, arching her back.
On the floor, Anjali, was on all fours, gasping and panting, her body rocking back and forth as Mohan, kneeling behind her and fucked her cunt with deep, skewering thrusts. She moaned delirious obscenities, and his cock ground in and out of her flesh.
Her breasts were swollen and turgid and they swung heavily with their motions. She whimpered thickly, her head rising. The young man grunted softly and, holding her hips, jerked her cunt back and forth on his cock rapidly, making her gasp and cry out.
"Oh yes oh yes oh yes Ohhh yes!" she cried.
"C'mon take it, take it bitch, take it!" he responded.
The bell rang. Falu got up to answer it, letting the movie run on. Lewis was at the door. He smiled at her and then grinned over her shoulder at the screen.
"New flick?"
"Latest."
"Great. I'd like to watch."
"You do that."
"Yeh. And you get busy."
"Doing what I like best."
Lewis grinned at her and gripping her head in one hand, jammed his mouth to hers. Falu moaned and squirmed against him. He squeezed her breasts and her buttocks. She writhed erotically against his crotch.
"Real hot, aren't you, whore?" he growled.
"God yes," she whimpered. "Oh god yes!"
She was wearing a transparent synthetic gown tied loosely at the waist and he pulled it open now and cupped her breasts. Falu moaned softly and undid the buttons of his tunic. Bending her head, she kissed and licked his chest, deep and muscled and hairless, slowly slithering lower to her knees before her chauffeur. He grinned down at her.
The servant, a dark, handsome youth with a muscular physique and big penis, grinned up at her and squeezed her breasts. She moaned, leaning back to caress his balls, hissing in pleasure as he fingered her clitoris. She looked down at him, smiling radiantly, swirling her hips in tight, round, erotic circles.
"Fuck yes ... oh fuck yes Ohhhhhhh yes!" Anjali gasped. "Oh that's so good!"
She moved faster and faster, grinding her hips round and round on his lap, churning her cunt with his cock. Her face contorted with excitement and she squeezed her breasts in a frenzy. The young servant grunted and bucked his hips up and down under her.
The camera swirled behind and moved to a close-up of Anjali's buttocks flexing and unflexing, her cunt sliding up and down the length of his monstrous penis, the cock emerging and disappearing from her cunt. She moved faster and faster, and her anus winked as her buttocks opened and closed.
The man gripped her buttocks and began jerking her up and down on his cock. His balls bucked against her buttocks and she leaned back to squeeze them in excitement. Her buttocks bounced off his thighs.
The camera cut to a close-up of Manisha's face, her eyes hard and cold, a determined smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in a loose white button-down shirt of some fine material that clung to her splendid curves, and a long skirt. She cupped her breasts slowly, her hands meeting in her cleavage, little fingers together.
The camera backed away a little and showed her in the corridor looking in. Across the door, on the other side of the passage, another servant appeared, moving away. He paused, looked up. Manisha caught his eye and a delightful, gamin smile lit her face. She beckoned to him, her finger on her lips signaling silence and motioned to him to look inside.
The servant, a dark, sturdy young man with fine features, clad in shorts and a vest, peeked in. A grin split his handsome face, showing very white, very even teeth. The camera moved between them and entered the room again.
On the couch, Falu sighed to herself, feeling very horny. She remembered the wonderful fucking during filming - not one orgasm was faked - and, more recently, of that afternoon. She needed a man. She jabbed a button on a red intercom telephone. It was answered promptly.
"Yes, this is three-oh-five. I want to speak to driver Lewis, please." A minute later, "Lewis? This is Falu. Would you come up please? I want to fuck. No, just you. Your friend can come up later."
She cradled the receiver and, smiling to herself, looked at the screen again. Manisha and the servant were still watching the others, but now he was beside her, behind her, close to her, caressing her. She turned her face up and he kissed her, his hand on her breast, her hand in his crotch.
"Fuck me," she whispered. "I want your cock in my slit."
The servant grinned. "What about them?"
"Look at them. Who cares?" Manisha said. "Forget them."
"Where d'you want to go?"
"Her room," Manisha pointed to Falu.
The camera snapped to a shot inside the room. Now Falu and Anjali had swapped partners. Falu was on her back on the bed with the servant, while Anjali and Mohan were at it on the floor. Falu gasped and cried out, her back arching, her hips writhing and heaving, her body jerking and rocking.
The handsome servant, Deepak, bent over on outstretched arms, his body weight on his toes, his buttocks flexing and unflexing, his hips rocking up and down, his penis plunging and pistoning in and out of her cunt. She clung to his shoulders, gasping in pleasure, her head rolling from side to side, her long *mangalsutra* slithering on her fair skin.
Her legs opened wider and her feet climbed up the backs of his thighs. She clenched his buttocks, dragging him deeper into her flesh.
"C'mon c'mon c'mon fuck me fuck me fuck me," she moaned in an obscene litany. "Oh yes yes ohhh god yes yes fuck me lover fuck me fuck my slit!"
The camera lingered on their bucking bodies, both glistening with sweat. Deepak bent his head and kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and she moaned loudly, clenching his head, her arm around his shoulders, the other hand sliding down to his buttocks, a finger pressing to his anus.
The servant groaned and, sucking her swollen breasts, ground his hips in circles, spiralling deeply into her. Falu gasped in pleasure, arching her back.
On the floor, Anjali, was on all fours, gasping and panting, her body rocking back and forth as Mohan, kneeling behind her and fucked her cunt with deep, skewering thrusts. She moaned delirious obscenities, and his cock ground in and out of her flesh.
Her breasts were swollen and turgid and they swung heavily with their motions. She whimpered thickly, her head rising. The young man grunted softly and, holding her hips, jerked her cunt back and forth on his cock rapidly, making her gasp and cry out.
"Oh yes oh yes oh yes Ohhh yes!" she cried.
"C'mon take it, take it bitch, take it!" he responded.
The bell rang. Falu got up to answer it, letting the movie run on. Lewis was at the door. He smiled at her and then grinned over her shoulder at the screen.
"New flick?"
"Latest."
"Great. I'd like to watch."
"You do that."
"Yeh. And you get busy."
"Doing what I like best."
Lewis grinned at her and gripping her head in one hand, jammed his mouth to hers. Falu moaned and squirmed against him. He squeezed her breasts and her buttocks. She writhed erotically against his crotch.
"Real hot, aren't you, whore?" he growled.
"God yes," she whimpered. "Oh god yes!"
She was wearing a transparent synthetic gown tied loosely at the waist and he pulled it open now and cupped her breasts. Falu moaned softly and undid the buttons of his tunic. Bending her head, she kissed and licked his chest, deep and muscled and hairless, slowly slithering lower to her knees before her chauffeur. He grinned down at her.
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