Married Bhabhi

My mind was telling my body that relief was to come soon, my arousal building, waiting for the release my body so needed. Would the apartment be empty when I got in?I open the apartment door, hanging my coat up. The apartment is silent, I make my way to the bedroom, pulling the sheets back, and slip off my shoes.Why do I have these fantasies about her, she’s not my type, I’m married, my husband is a good man, our sex life is quite good. I’ve never been with a woman, yet she is my one fantasy.As I lay back on the bed, I picture her, her shapely legs, her nylon stockings, her breasts encased in her lace bra, her suit, in my imagination she unbuttons her blouse, her nipples standing hard in her white lace bra. I pull my skirt up, my hand touches my crotch, my pantyhose feel damp to my touch, my panties have slipped inside my wet pussy. I rub my finger along the line of my labia, they feel open and welcoming to my touch. She unclips her bra, her nipples are dark and hard, if only I could. And you loved a hairy pussy. I want you to eat me.” “What are you talking about. Your Mom told you that?” “Yeah, and she also said, that you are a really good fuck, let’s go.” She reached in her purse, took out money, left it on the table, stood up, took my hand and we left the bar. “Where are we going?” “To your hotel room. I know where it is.” As we drove the short distance to the hotel, my conscience was eating at me. How could I be here, in this moment with my ex-stepdaughter, contemplating having ribald sex with her. Earlier, I had envisioned having great sex with my ex-wife, but that was not to be. Without any conversation, she pulled into the parking lot, and we strode into the lobby of the Hampton Inn, walked to the elevator, and before I knew it, we were in my room. As I turned around to close and lock the door, I could hear the rustling of her clothes. When I turned back, she was standing in the puddle of her skirt, kicking off her heels, and was unbuttoning her blouse. I.
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