The moment we reached the bedroom, he threw me on the bed. And due to the movement, the yellow thread we south Indian women wear our mangalstura in go... snapped. He took it and wrapped it around his cock and mounted me.In one violent thrust, he was deep inside me with the mangalsutra dangling between our genitals, a symbol of my marriage being fucked by a passionate lover. It lolled back and forth like the limp impotent cock of my stupid husband, and I loved it! It drove me wild.I pumped up with. That's better. Brush the powdered sugar off your lap. You look like a flour sack blew up on you. Now lean back put your feet up on the stern and every now and again, twitch that pole to make sure you aren't catching the salad for our lunch.HOLY COW! Did you feel that? Like a freight train grabbed that hook!Reel in some and don't drop the tip of your rod! Aww man! Got away did it?OK. Relax. Don't worry about the coffee. Just rag it up with this towel and rinse it out in the lake; when your. More

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