Indian Collage Lover Fucking On Sofa

Do you still have your wedding dress?" Ugh - yes. Yes ma'am." Sara's voice was raspy and thick. Her chest heaved. Tight nipples poked through the front of her thin form-fitting shirt. Her body sweaty and soaking through her clothes."I haven't given you permission to come yet slut," Mrs. Anderson warned. "Don't you do it." I can't help it." Sara couldn't. Her body could not be denied."You better bear down and figure out a way." Mrs. Anderson slowed her fingers, but she let up. Sara's cunt continued making wet sounds with every thrust of the older woman's fingers.Reaching into the cooler of ice, Sara grabbed a handful and then cupped it over her sex. She prayed it would work. The cold was a shock. A painful shock. The need to come passed. She held the cold ice tightly to her sex and shivered."That's a good bitch," Mrs. Anderson said. "Now, as I was saying. When I come over tomorrow, I expect to find you in bed, wearing your wedding dress, legs spread wide, your pussy open and ready for. This is how I found her, in the back of an alley bloody and begging for her life and getting nothing but sneers in return. They began all at once, each beating or cutting her with whatever they had. If it wasn't for the small amount of hand to hand combat I received in the military I would have been overwhelmed as well, but I had the element of surprise and I dispersed the thugs quickly. She was almost dead, her connection fading, only images of her home we're clear enough for me to understand. Gingerly I picked her up, but barely a gasp of pain passed her lips as your head rolled back, she was unconscious. As the images begin to fade she turned toward me and placed her face against my neck. Her tears soaked my shirt as I ran my hands over her body, up and down her arms, my lips against her hair, whispering "Ember, Ember, shhhh." I felt a sudden flood of emotions come from her as she quickly turned her face up and touched her lips to mine. The first touch of our lips was like.
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