Desi Jaipur Bhabhi Gets Her Pussy Eaten By Husband

She was obviously somewhat trained as she knew not to speak unless spoken to. So the ride home was quiet, allowing him to consider his next steps with Laura.When he got home, he guided the girl into his living room. He didn’t know her name but that was unimportant. He would name her if he decided to keep her. “Strip and present yourself for inspection.”“Yes sir.” She quickly undressed, stopping only to look at him questioningly, wondering where to put her clothes. He pointed at a basket beside. In the evening bhaiya came from office at 10. As usual he was drunk. He abused bhabhi in front of me and went to sleep. My mind was very eager to get my bhabhi tonight. I asked bhabhi that I am getting headache and if she can massage my head. She accepted and told me to go in my room and she will bring hot oil for massage.I went to my room and within minutes bhabhi came with a bowl in her hand with oil. I was lying on bed so she told me to sit down which I refused and told her to apply it on. And wow!The waiter picked up the bottle and I held out my glass. He filled it and then he left to turn in our dinner orders. I glanced over at the couple next to us and noticed he had his arm around her and his hand on her tits and was feeling her up through her semi-sheer red blouse and staring right at us. I guess whatever we had was contagious because they appeared to have the same symptoms we were exhibiting. They were a very attractive couple and were both wearing rings so I guessed they. . “Haven’t I seen you around here?” he asked.It was one of the oldest and cheesiest flirtations in the book, but Neal really did want to know why she looked so familiar.With her hand still on his shoulder, the woman threw her head back and laughed, her brunette ponytail swinging from side to side as she shook her head.“Oh, wow. You really don’t remember me, do you!”Half-smiling, Neal tried to place her face but still came up empty. He set his barbells down on the floor, enjoying the view of her.
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