Indian Air Hostage Extreme Hardcore Fuck With Tourist indian porn

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She moved her free hand and jammed my dick deep inside her. "Whoa! Haha! I wasn't expecting that Meg!" "Well I warned you!" she yelled with excitement. "So you think your in charge huh?" I replied moving my hand from her tits to her neck. "No daddy, I KNOW I'm in charge!" "Oh really?!" I began to tighten my grip on her small neck. I started to drill her sweet pussy harder. "Ughhh, it feels real good daddy!" I leaned closer to her ear. "I want you to spank your clit for me Meg." "But I want you to do it daddy." she cooed. I nibbled on her ear and explained, "Meg, do it for daddy." As an incentive I started to thrust harder. "Unnnn, Unnnnn okay, okay" she moaned. She began to slap her plump clit with my every stroke. "O MY GOSHHH DADDY IT FEELS SOOOO GOOD!" she exclaimed.I moved my hand form her neck and started squeezing her swollen nipples. I started sucking and nibbling on her neck. "Mmmmm feels so good!" I started fucking her soaking pussy harder. Faster and faster I couldn't get. ? But, she loved this part becausewhat came next would revive him no matter how far gone he was.She zipped his air hole shut, clipped a pair of weightednipple clamps to his nipples, set a chair in front of him, thenpicked up the two electric paddles.?Return she took her seat on the chair, making herself comfortable.? She charged the paddle in her first handuntil its capacitor was fully charged, then she touched the paddle to the headof his cock.? Meat gasped and reflexivelypulled away.? She touched his cock againwith the other paddle.? Again he gasped ajerked away.? But escape wasimpossible.? Alternating with the paddlesin her right and left hands, Mistress Maria waited for his gyrating hips tostop then zapped the head of his cock again, wait, hips stop, again.? Soon, his gyrating hips danced continuouslydesperately seeking sanctuary from the high voltage bite of the paddles.? Soon, Mistress only needed to chasefrantically bobbing cock with one paddle, holding the other still her.
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He knows that he doesn’t know her but he is sure he’s seen her before. Where? He moves through the throng of shoppers, never breaking eye contact, closing the gap between them to just a little more than a counter width. ‘Where have I seen you?’ He is direct, almost terse, but his smile fills in the polite noises he omits. Put off balance by his enquiry, she seeks refuge in her professional persona. ‘I-I don’t know, Sir. Here perhaps?’ ‘Not here. I’ve never been in here before. A bar maybe? A club? Where do you usually go out?’ ‘The Bradbury. Sometimes Aquarius.’ ‘That’s it! The Brad.’ He feels his memory resolving. He shuts his eyes, the better to focus his thoughts. A mental picture is forming of her on the dance floor. ‘The Friday before last. Silver leggings and bra top. You have a pierced belly button and a unicorn tattooed on your left shoulder. You were with a guy. Tall chap, dark hair, crap dancer. You were really into him, grinding up against him, practically screwing on.

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