Anjali Singh Solo Show indian porn
At last, we were naked, skin to skin. He rolled me back to the bottom. He kissed me again, this time taking my breath, and returning it with his soul. I felt tears inside me again, threatening to well up but they were tears of joy. The feeling of connection with him was so strong that when he entered me, I felt a wave of pleasure that seemed to come from beyond the body, to an astral plane where we were together as closely as we were on this one. Perhaps I was delusional, all the blood had drained from my head along with my tears. Maybe my need outweighed my common sense, my judgment and my rational mind. His body moved over mine, sensing my yearning, my need for something to fill the void that was threatening to engulf me. I was overwhelmed by life, and now by my long held back need to be with him like this. The music played, our bodies danced. I could see colors and lights celebrating our union. Every voice that should have told me that it was wrong, had deserted me, went. Not right here, too public, don’t want to get arrested. But somewhere near. Soon. Need your cock in me darling. Yes, I’m your dirtygirl now. He held her face, gazed in her beautiful limpid brown eyes, hooded now with lust: -So come on dirtygirl, let’s find our fuckspot. Normally on a strange beach he would have been clutching birdbook and binoculars. Now he couldn’t even think. His hand was under her skirt, probing her naked arse. Nothing in his head at all. Lust, the need to fuck his woman, consumed him. They crossed the mouth of a stream spilling onto the beach, a smirr of rain dampening their bodies but not their ardour. He pointed to a carpet of scrub just above the high-water mark. Stroked her arse again. Felt her oozing sexjuice: -In there darling, that’ll do… She ran towards an opening in the bushes, pushed through. A few yards in was a small clearing, some grass pushing through the sand. Condom foils and empty beercans, picnic litter. She turned as he caught up with her:.
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