Indian Aunty porn video

I barked out loud “What time do you call this”. They both put their heads down and giggled, attempting to prop each other up. I shouted at my wife...“Sharon, go upstairs to bed, I will deal with you tomorrow. Alice! Come with me”. My wife made her way slowly upstairs as I grabbed Alice’s arm and marched her into the living room, pushing her unceremoniously into the easy chair.“Not only are you late Alice, you are drunk!” I said loudly. Alice mumbled something incoherent as her chin now rested on. When she looked down, her tits slapped her in the face. All the while she made a low scream/moan/grunting sound as I fucked the shit out of her ass. Literally.Every time I pushed into her a bit of juice would squirt out making a brown river flowing to the drain. She reached down with one hand and found her clit and began to finger fuck herself. With a scream Keri came and moving both hands onto the shower wall she braced herself for a harder fucking.Grabbing both of her hip bones, I set to. It sounded like, "Hey, the ice queen has finally melted." I don't think she heard it. She was still groggy.Looking down at her, I said, "My name is Bob. Why don't we split this place and go somewhere to clean up?"She mumbled, "OK, I'm Bert."We went outside, hand in hand, to the accompaniment of continuing cheers and whistles. I put her in my yellow, VW Beetle. With a dreamy look on her face, Bert was still not quite out of her dazed state of amazement.The car? Oh, I had a good job. Manual labor. Now reporters wanted to know my thoughts on the subject.Each reporter had their own list of questions, but I suspected the interview would be reported in each magazine almost verbatim. I tried to give thoughtful answers.Q: “Were you aware, when you spoke to the Kurdish soldier that your response would end up going world-wide?”A: “Not really. Oh, I am always aware that just about everything I say or do is being recorded, and I knew there were reporters along, but otherwise never gave it too much.
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