Indian Romance Bedroom Scene

Oh yes that's what I want that almost hateful sex she moaned still breathing heavy.I grabbed the bag and told her get your slutty ass to the garage now.She gave a slutty whine and said we can't fuck in here?No you squirt and she doesn't now get out there I said slapping her big ass.Well what if I don't squirt? She said trying to compromise.Then I won't enjoy myself and there's no point to fucking you.Good point sir I need you to enjoy yourself she said bending over for another slap.I slapped her ass and out the door we went straight to the garage.I went over in front of the car setting the bag down and grabbing a few ropes.I threw them over a roof beam over the cars hood.She saw the ropes and started stripping her clothes off throwing her shirt and shorts on the work bench.Then she walked over to me wearing just her black thong and shoes.As she pressed her tits and body up against me she moaned what are you gonna do with these sir?This slut I say as I reached my hand up grabbing her. At fifteen, he was good enough to play varsity football and it was like a chick magnet being on the team. He was fucking girls as easily as opening a bag of Doritos. By the time he was sixteen he’d even graduated to fucking college girls in their dorm rooms after the games. It was around this time in his life he started noticing mom in a different way, as a woman, and a good-looking one at that. Mom and Dad were always openly affectionate with each other; kissing and hugging or cozying up on the couch to watch t.v. Dad loved to swat or pinch her ass as she walked past him and she would do small, subtle things like brush up against him with her breasts when he was doing something like cooking or taking a phone call. To please dad she would often wear sexy, low-cut blouses and tight skirts or form fitting jeans that hugged her figure. Mom was a shoe whore and had a huge collection of high heels that she’d wear with her outfits even if it was just around the house. He rarely saw her in.
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