Mature Indian Aunty Fucked By Her Husband mp4

She liked to be told what to do. So, I sorta called her bluff. Told her to get on her knees and get her mouth on me before I counted the five. By the time I hit three she was on her knees, and by five, my pants were down at my ankles and she was licking me like there was no tomorrow...”“So that’s why you are not quite so ... diffident ... you found out you like to order her around ... I knew something was up, you were like way too confident when we got here, even stripping like it was no big deal!” Amber was dripping now, thinking about the scene Cyndi was describing, hearing the moans from the television, and watching the three naked girls around her. It was voyeuristic heaven to say the least.“Yeah, but you have not heard the best part ... Well, maybe not the best part ... but, anyways. Um, let’s see ... She was really doing a number on me, so, I had her stop ... so I could you know, lay down on her bed ... I kicked off my jeans and stuff, and lay back. As she moved to lick me some. I fumbled for my phone. The ID said “Dad” I drew the back of my hand over my mouth, wiping mom’s pussy juice from my lips.“Hello,” I muttered.“Tom?” Is this you? Your voice sounds different.”I sat back on my haunches. Mom slipped a finger in her hole and smiled at me as she finger fucked herself. She pulled a glistening finger out and offered it to me. I took it in my mouth and sucked her juices from her finger. I cleared my throat.“It’s me! You couldn’t be at your destination yet.” The taste of mom’s pussy was in my mouth as I talked to my father, her husband. I glanced quickly at the face of my phone. I had been home a little more than two hours.“No! Our departure is delayed. We’re stuck on a taxiway. Did ... did you ... uh ... do what we discussed?”It was weird. My father was asking me if I shaved my mother’s pussy. I heard her moan and looked down at her. She had two fingers in her pussy. She was propped up on the pillows. Her legs spread, her eyes closed. I could hear the wet.
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