Blue Waters With Indian Babe hindi porn
Her little smiles. Those eyes. At least dinner was distracting and phenomenal—Wendy is an amazing cook, and she did steaks, shrimp and veggies on the grill with some sort of spices/seasoning that melted in your mouth. Watching Myra eat the asparagus was pretty entertaining, too.Dessert was the highlight of the evening. Key lime pie. And about the time I was shoveling the first forkful into my mouth, Myra’s toes found my crotch. My cock, to be exact. At first, I was worried maybe they weren’t Myra’s toes, and the woman next to her was married, with her husband sitting next to her. So I dropped my fork, and sure enough, they were Myra’s. When I popped back up, she asked me if everything was okay. Awesome, I told her, everything is awesome. And with that, she squeezed my cock between her toes and the pad of her foot.My cock started to get hard. A mad, hot rush. Did I mention I have a thing for feet? Not all feet, but some…not really a fetish. Well, maybe half a fetish.I put my hand in. She possessed the mountainous silicone-enhanced peaks of a porn actress welded to an impossibly thin wasp waist--the kind of figure that could only exist in hentai. Her costume wasn't exactly there to preserve modesty. Her shiny purple top revealed more cleavage than it hid, and the glossy material was stretched almost to bursting trying to contain her abundant breasts. The eye-shaped clasp that held the thing together at her chest looked like it might pop at any moment. Most of her flat belly, including the little dimple of her navel, was exposed. Her long lithe legs were covered in kinky fishnet stockings that ran down to a pair of sexy stiletto heels. The stockings were attached to her waist with suspenders.Fetish fuel. Pure filthy fetish fuel.She was also the area boss. Jackson could tell--she had her own battle theme.That was the other stupid thing. Every time he went into battle, music would start playing even though there wasn't a single musician in sight. Usually it was.
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