” (I enjoyed it).My father was a sex addict. He would come home from work and tell my mom to suck his dick. He would watch item songs of south India... movies and make my mom masturbate him. Sometimes, he would take an oil massage for his dick. He used to go to the red-light district at times too.He would flirt with waitresses at hotels and take their numbers. But if my mom even spoke to our male neighbour, he would be angry at her. My mom was made to cover her head with her pallu in public.The. I asked her is there any problem madam? Then she replied, nothing. And said you should come to my home on pongal festival. Then I nodded my head and returned to the class. I am waiting for the pongal eagerly why she invited again.Thinking in my mind all these days.At last my special day came and I went to her home. I knocked the door. She opened it and she was in green & red pattu saree with loose hair. And romantic aroma from her body made my gun fully loaded. Then She invited me inside and. She gasped as he opened her tunnel again with throbbing force and rushed in with sudden, lustrous speed.The Queen’s head was down, her butt was up as the sailor effortlessly pounded his long inches into her soaked snatch. Back and forth he thrust, building speed as their joy blossomed. Both lovers were crying in mounting ecstasy as the Queen forced her buttocks back to devour more and more of his giant rise.The sailor held onto the Queen’s hip with one hand and reached under her with the other. You two are THE BEST! My life is forever richer for having you both in it. Disclaimers: This story is a work of fiction, and no resemblance to anyone living, dead, or undead is intended or implied. If you think otherwise, you need to get a life. And, while it is quite probably a "G-rated" tale, it does concern itself with themes of an adult nature and no one of a chronological age less than eighteen should read it; those with an .
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