Indian Dream Call Girl

It took his son a moment to reply. Nuh-No sir, Kristen only lets me touch her tits. With that Mr. Shaver slapped me hard on the ass with his large hand, low enough to make my pussy and upper thighs string and draw a gasp from my lips, and then once again leaned back in his chair, feet on the desk. Well, come give it a try. He didnt have to offer twice. Travis practically ran across the room, his long strides eating up the carpet. I could feel his presence at my back before he touched me, one finger sliding tentatively over my sopping slit, hot and throbbing from the recent slap. Jesus boy, she wont break. Do what you want. There was a soft thud as he dropped to his knees on the floor, and then I felt his breath against me and my thighs were roughly pulled apart by hands nearly as big as his fathers. I barely kept my feet in my comically high heels. I turned my head to the side and watched my bosss face while his son explored me. He was no longer tentative in the least. I could feel. There were plenty of seats available, we could spread out and make ourselves more comfortable. I sat by the left window of the coach on the row of seats just in front of the back row. When this story took place, I was one month shy of my eighteenth birthday. I looked pretty much as I do now, 5’ 6 tall, long dark wavy hair, blue eyes, athletic and slim body, with B cup boobs and shaved pussy. As well as my Club tracksuit top, I had on a denim skirt that was mid-thigh length, red thong, trainers and white ankle socks. Sat in the chair beside me was Chloe, who was a few months older and an outstanding swimmer. She was 5’ 9 tall, long dirty blonde hair, blue eyes and very pretty to look at. As with all eight of us, she was very fit but her boobs were bigger than mine were, I’d guess a C cup and she too was shaved. The zip of her tracksuit top was only half up, her white bra and cleavage clearly visible and on her lower half; she wore jeans, with nothing underneath and flip-flops on her.
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