Fucked On The Table indian porn

He didn't leave after his tour of my small apartment. He took a seat at the kitchen table and asked me for a cup of coffee. I put on half a pot.I sent Heather to bed at nine o'clock while I was answering more of Mr. Kent's probing questions and waiting for the coffee to brew. I saw the way he watched her as she left the room and it made me nervous. He looked her over in the same invasive manner that his eyes explored my body.This is a very scary man. He's all the more scary because he was looking at my little girl the way men aren't supposed to look at little girls. And he didn't care if I knew it.It was ten minutes before the coffee was ready. In those ten minutes we sat at the kitchen table in almost total silence. I was subjected to ten minutes of his prying eyes moving over my body. He wasn't discreet when he ogled me, either. He didn't hide it at all. In fact, he seemed to be daring me to object.I waited nervously for the coffee and served him when it was ready. He sat and sipped. Then as I mounted the step it pushed back in with a little twist as I lifted the other leg for the next step, a slow deep fuck. The bullet buzzed against my clit, first on one side, then the other. By the second landing my breathing was coming in gasping little pants. Doing my best not to moan out loud I took the final flight and unlocked my shop with shaking hands. I stumbled inside and locked the door behind me. Making sure I was out of view of any casual shoppers committed enough to climb three flights of stairs, I fell to my knees and slipped one hand under my skirt. I moaned out as I slipped two fingers into my soaking pussy and as I pressed them into my g-spot I came hard. I came back to awareness of my surroundings as the waves of pleasure faded to find myself slumped on the floor with my panties completely soaked with my slippery juices. I reached for my purse and fumbled until I found the remote for the bullet vibe and turned it off. Ducking into the bathroom I cleaned up,.
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