Strip Dance By Hot Indian Woman

I tweak my nipples, my sensitive nipples. Hot flushes of desire shoot through me like lightning bolts. I stare into the camera. “I’m so horny,” ... moan. “I’m so fucking horny.”I turn and crawl to the table where I’ve left the things I need. I don’t actually need the lube for the red dildo, but I grab the tube anyway. I crawl back to the laptop, angling the lid, then getting into position in front of it, facing the camera, legs spread. My pussy fills the screen. My moist, yearning pussy. I. For me this dance was more than about a country’s memorial celebration of its African and slave legacies, but also a release of the bonds that had held me from experiencing this transcendental bliss with my husband. Bill’s breath was ragged against my face. He pinched my hard nipples and set my arm to tingling with his wet, wicked tongue. Heat spiraled down my body and centralized in my pussy. My hands left his neck in search of that heat. I ran my fingers over my clean shaven mound before. More

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