Bhabhi In Yellow Shalwar Suit Fucked On Sofa

He put his arm back onto my waist, and as if by accident, his thumb hooked into the top of my jeans. He never turned to look at me. We just sat there, warm and comfortable, watching the movie. With no cue, almost simultaneously, we turned to face each other. I looked up at him as he gazed down at me, his face no longer blank and guarded. With a slight tilt of my head, I betrayed myself. He took my invitation and met my lips, softly moving his against them. I could feel the stubble on his face tickle my chin and cheek. He deepened the kiss, sliding his warm tongue into my mouth and probing, trying to bring mine alive. I responded happily, again betraying my desire. He brought his other hand around and grasped my face, holding me in place as his mouth widened even more, enveloping my bottom lip as his tongue danced in my mouth. For a while, we just sat there- kissing. It has been a while since we made out like that. His hands traveled down my neck, over my breasts, and back up my. Though he generally only said it when her body was against his and the house was quiet, he loved the girl with the golden ring. He loved her delicate laugh, one that delighted anyone who could hear it. He loved her big blue eyes and soft blond hair. He loved her fingernails and the base of her neck. He loved the way she curled up on the couch and waited for him to come home. He loved to sit on the bathroom floor and lean against the claw foot tub while she sang and bathed. He loved to watch her dry off and dress, things a hero never admitted to. He loved every detail about her. If she would only ask, he would give up the axe and the hose, the air tank and the helmet. Never again would he miss the kissing flames or the taste of stale smoke. He would leave it all behind for the girl with the golden ring. She would go to extremes for him, too, without questioning the reasons why. She would forgo all that she had worked for to give him a better house to come home to. She would slave to.
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