Sharmila Aunty Fucked By Her Hubby

They drained the bowl, and George went to clean it out and put it away. Janet collected their glasses and filled them with more wine. “I guess that is all the pacololo we get today,” Janet pouted. Ginger walked over to the table and pulled her stash out of her purse. “I came prepared.” Ginger filled the pipe, and they continued where they had left off. Passed it back and forth a couple times before George returned. “What the hell? You have been holding out on me.” Ginger gave the pipe to Janet, who took a hit and then passed it to George. Janet turned back to Ginger and kissed her with a deep passionate kiss. Not like neighbors great one another, but like a girlfriend would greet her soldier boyfriend returning from war. Ginger parted her lips, allowing Janet’s tongue to explore her mouth. Janet held Ginger’s face in her hands, caressing her cheeks as they intertwined their tongues. They parted, and Ginger was in a haze both from the weed and the kiss. Oh my god, George is sitting. They came to a halt in front of the grandest garage in the high street and the ever helpful chauffeur led her into the palatial showroom. Before she could argue a cream Mercedes sport was ordered paid for off a credit card and she was back in the Bentley on her way back to the house, only having been consulted as to the colour of the upholstery, the sound system and the type of roof. Her old escort would have to go now, though she was reluctant as she had loved the little car, but it was out of place here on the great estate. The days passed, a week, a month, she was now part of the team, and efficient slick well dressed, never a hair out of place, constant companion to Ted, who never once put a finger on her the whole time. She began to think the question about sex and pain was just to frighten her at the interview, but then she would remember the lift and the dungeon, she knew in her heart of hearts that it was no figment of her imagination she knew one day.
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