Desi Indian Wife Fucked Hard On The Dining Table

She was standing next to Uncle as he sat by the table, reading the newspaper.His left hand was absent-mindedly fiddling with my wife's pussy or ass under the t shirt, I couldn’t see. My cock was still too sensitive and sore from the morning's jerk off session, so I just smiled and said goodbye, knowing that I'd be late for work if I got involved in the nasty games uncle was playing with my wife's body.I was useless at work. Dreaming of what he'd be doing to my wife. But I came home late because. When I reached there, she asked me to wait for some time, since she have to take bath. I waited for some fifteen minutes in her room. She came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body. I was looking at her visible portion of the legs. She looked at me and said ‘dai, I am your sister’. She asked me to wait in the front room, as she have to dress. I went out of her room. She’d closed the door. After a minute or so, I’d peeped through the key hole. I found through the key hole that. . Unfortunately, the evening had left me highly aroused. Not that I was disappointed with how the night had gone; on the contrary, watching Heather in ecstasy had been simply incredible. But I was having trouble keeping that arousal from convincing me to go take a peek at the porch.I walked around to the back of the house and then paused with my hand on the railing. The windows above were all dark. My heart was beating hard.No! I returned to the front of the house. I was in the middle of an. I changed to tank top and short skirt (wearing inners too). The top was tight enough to reveal my perfect shape of boobs and skirt showing my milky thighs. I was standing in balcony when Anand came from behind and putting his hand on my waist started chatting with me. He had not worn anything on top and was just in his shorts. After sometime I sensed another hand on my ass, it was Rajiv. They both seemed different to me, the way they looked me, touched me. But I let it go, as nothing was new to.
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