Aruna Singh Desi Punjabi Girl

His hands returned to her tortured cheeks. They felt cold against her roasted skin. Her ass was on fire. He squeezed her cheeks, which took her breath...away. Then a fingertip ran across the lips of her pussy ever so lightly. “You’re quite wet, Miss Johnson. It was not intended for your enjoyment.” She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t speak at all. The fingertip found her clit. She moaned, spreading her legs wider, offering herself to him. Wanting him. “Please,” was all she could manage. He started. I took a deep breath and kind of crawled onto the bed on my knees. After a moment of consideration, I started with his shoulders, long strokes, even strokes, symmetrical strokes. I was doing everything I thought a massage ther****t would do. As I got to his lower back and hips, he would kind of moan and rotate his hips. At one point, he looked back, grabbed my hand and placed it on his ass motioning for me to rub it, and telling me not to be bashful. I did and as my hands ran over the. More

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