He was on the other hand, expectantly waiting for more.“Pull the dress further up”, he pleaded.I ignored his request and tormented him by cloaking...my naughty bits. After all, covering comes naturally to us, as it is a time-honoured custom. This also included my face to conceal my real identity.His incessant pleading continued and I kept on provoking; with my body language. Moreover, this was the closest that a burqa-clad traditional woman could fathom about miniskirt.Alas, he dropped his. ” A grin crossed his bearded lips. “I want to cum in my little flower's flower.” He laughed at that.“Yes, Daddy,” I purred, not fighting as he pulled me up his body by the hair.The chair creaked as I straddled his waist. I pulled my fingers out of my pussy and grabbed his dick, smearing my cream on the shaft. I brought the thick crown of his cock to my hungry snatch. I rubbed it up and down my vulva, nudging my clit.“Is this the flower you want to enjoy, Daddy?” I asked. Then I slid his dick. More

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