But it was too late; her hand was behind my head pressing it. Soon I was frantic like a wild child. My little half pant flew in the direction of Smrit... because she said “Bhaiya don’t throw your clothes”.Her questions met our desperate panting. The little tiger was unleashed and soon it tasted hot wet saliva. There was something for everyone. She made sure I was settled deep, then unsettled and then again settled. Noises of constant slapping filled the room to which Smriti asked, “maa, why are. They taste of you. Your pussy, neither bitter, nor sweet, just creamy. It is, distinctly you. Meanwhile you have taken the initiative and begin stripping me of my underwear. At last freeing this villainous snake as it stretches itself, appreciating the limitless space to grow. The head, a soft purple tip, reaches full length extending against the smooth vainer of my laptop. "Don't stop typing," you growl as I can't help but admire you on all fours there in front of me. Your head disappears. More

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