She smiled as she looked closely at my face, and then down to my swollen staff. I looked down as well and smiled, “See? That’s hardly ten inches.�...�“Of course it is! It’s…” She then giggled. “Shit, I hate converting from metric. I never can do it right.”We laughed and I retorted, “Some accountant you are.”“Sorry, I don’t deal with foreign cocks in my day to day work.”She lifted her trumpet and looked into my eyes as she quietly played the slow movement from Concierto de Aranjuez, and at the end. ” and while shouting she stood up and removed all her clothes. Then violently she tore the clothes of her son Raja. Then acting as a Daakini she positioned herself such that she sat on his face.At first Raja thought it nauseating to be sitting under the groin of her mother but he soon remembered that he had to do anything to free the soul of his father. The Daakini now thrust her pussy on Raja’s nose heading for his mouth. The smell in the crotch of his mother was strong urine smell and she had. More

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