BF Shares His Nude Desi Girlfriend With His Friend porn video

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I expelled him back up and took it downagain, and again, and again. He was making sweet love to my throat andI could feel my penis throbbing from orgasm! All at once he pulled outand exploded all over my face. My first instinct was to grab hold ofhis cock while it was still expelling seamen and wrap my mouth backaround it. I grabbed his butt cheeks and pulled him into my face. Icould feel it pumping in my mouth and swallowed the remaining cum. Mysexual life as a woman was only in its infancy, yet it had alreadysurpassed my expectations of how fulfilling it could be. I did not feelashamed or used. I felt like we were two people filling a longing forone another.Ken grabbed me by my waist and picked me up into his arms like a bridebeing carried over the threshold. I felt like a princess being rescued.He kissed me hard. I kissed back with passion. His musky cologne andsweat fueling me."My God Angie! Was that pent up female energy?" Well, I have practiced many times in my fantasies!"We. She was there with two girlfriends celebrating one of their birthdays. We were instantly drawn to each other. She said she thought my swagger was cute! I wasn’t offended. I thought it was funny. We spent every minute together. We couldn’t get enough of each other. Her girlfriends left and she stayed one more day. We got married.I had been at the Treasure Island and she was at the Rio. We checked out and into the Venetian for a three day “honeymoon”.At the end of the three days she went home to break the news to her parents. I returned to San Diego to take care of some important business. Aziz and I had been offered an obscene amount of money for our business. We said yes and turned everything over to our lawyers.Ada lived in Louisville, which was in the general part of the country where I’d grown up, so I was comfortable with the idea of living there. I said goodbye to California where I’d been for the past twelve years and flew to Louisville, hoping my new in-laws would accept me.I.
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I told him he was Italian, true, his name was, Enrico Supini, true in a way and he lacked polish, also true. He checked every phone book in Silicon Valley looking for a "Mr. Supini", even pestering me about its spelling. I told him I didn’t know the spelling and he was married with kids, to ease his suspicions.Enrico was smug with wife and three kids safely tucked away on his home turf while he raided another’s. He took his wife as guaranteed safe from invasion and was the type who would fall apart if a male invaded his domestic domain.I never talked about family with him. He, in contrast, bragged about his, especially the kids. From what he said his wife was a good mother but a messy housekeeper and a lousy cook who thought the grocery food aisles were frozen, canned, dairy and cereal. She never cooked from scratch. His requests for Italian food were met with microwaved, frozen ravioli and boiled spaghetti with canned sauce.His expensive clothes weren’t poorly ironed, they weren’t.

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