Indian Village Sister’s Bath Captured By Her Cousin

Just cause I couldn’t decide which ones to wear. I had a little purple g-string with lace bits along the edges and a pair of tight pink and white cotton briefs on over the top, which pressed my hard cock tightly against my body. This (as I soon found out) allowed the pre cum to soak through to the outside leaving a little wet patch. Gary was going commando, he didn’t like underwear on him at all… though loved it on his boys.As soon as we walk into his place Gary directed me to the kitchen. He. She wanted to meet me since we knew we weren’t gonna have sex or anything. I used to decline sometimes fearing that something might happen between us. But I couldn’t refuse further and after being such good friends it was my duty to meet at least once. So I agreed. We caught up in one of the malls in Bangalore and had some nice talk. We had not talked on phone much, all the conversations were on messengers. She invited me to her house for her birthday. I accepted.On her birthday I went to her. I look at my husband Callum, then to our child resting asleep on his chest, he tries to wave at me but daren’t wake him. We are thankful to have met the woman in the woods.I met him at a village festival, we were celebrating the New Year. A year later and we were wed. For many months we tired for children, we took the advice of the village shamans and elders, tried different positions, different locations, tried every potion and tonic there was made but still nothing worked. The place we had. I put my hair up in a pony tail and pulled it tight, securing it with a scrunchy. I added a black band around my neck. It had a small heart in front.I gave my tits one last squeeze, then another, and then a tweak of my nipples.I couldn't wait for Daddy to get home, but I would have to stay in my room until he was home. My Mommy would make me put clothes on or we would have a bad argument. Could I shock her anymore? I hoped so.I puttered around my room, listening to music, and let my mind wander.
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