Part 2 Desi Indian New Paid Masala Movie Kuvari Dulhan free porn video

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I was riding a Clydesdalethrough the dry terrain of a grain field. We were thundering along,chasing another horse and rider. They appeared to have plenty of speedand stamina to stay in front of us for so long.The rider I was chasing was a beautiful woman. She knew how to ridetoo, not a wasted motion, and moving with the horse's gallop instead offlopping about on the saddle. The one thing about her that was out ofplace was her attire. She had on a long flowing pink dress with taffetaand lace - definitely NOT riding clothes! Another funny thing was thatI couldn't remember ever having ridden a horse before.My shadow was long in front of me as the sun sank slowly to the horizonbehind my back. The ride seemed effortless, even for the horse.Something wasn't right. I seemed to be moving much too fast besides,although I wasn't gaining on the lady in question. I saw a discoloredpatch in the grain stubble up ahead and watched it. Before I knew it,it was right in front of me. It was all so. Unlike them however her moans weren’t faked. I felt her insides tighten around my tongue as I drove her to a blissful climax. She cried out in ecstasy as a spray of juices squirted across my face. I finally removed my face from her sex and looked at the mess I had made. Ruined tights, a drenched desk and a girl who wouldn’t be walking for some time, I had to admit that I may have gotten carried away. “I had no idea you could do that!” Karen panted, now collapsed over the desk. “I’ve been trained well,” I teased giving her a gentle slap on the thigh. I let her recover as I returned to floor to quieten down the erotic noises still blasting from half the computers. I took a moment to look outside through the windows of our office, admiring the Christmas lights that lit up the streets below. As I stood there I failed to notice the girl creeping up on me until her hands gently grabbed her shoulders. She swung around so she was next me with both hands still gently holding my shoulders. .
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