My Indian Slut Wife, Indian wife has sex with the milkman as anniversary gift

Vidya was very proud of her curves, her humongous breasts, her wide hips, her broad ass, and her fleshy, milky white, well-toned tummy. And yes, to say she was sexually active before our marriage was understating it – her legs were open to anyone she fancied. Students, professors, janitors, labourers, accountants, and even a pujari – almost someone from every profession had deposited their semen in her cunt.

I snuggled against Vidya and hugged her tightly. My tongue found her lips and we kissed deeply, exploring each other’s mouths with passion. She moved her arms around my back, and slowly, gingerly, caressed my behind. Then she spanked my bum playfully.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I started to slide against her body, slowly going down on her. My face came to her breasts, as I licked each nipple and sucked on them gently. She pushed my head down further as I inserted my tongue into her navel and covered her tummy with kisses. I rubbed my face against her inner thighs as her pubic hair hit my nostrils. She wasn’t wearing panties. My tongue flicked out as I started to lick her clitoris.

“Mmmmm… mmmm…” Vidya grabbed my ears with either hand and started to twist them, as she moaned and writhed with pleasure. “Oh, fatty! Keep doing it, my love, oh my!”

My face was now between into her thighs, and she was gushing like a waterfall. Each lashing of my tongue provoked further moans of ecstasy and secretions of her love juice. My face was now glistening with her dampness. I kept inserting my tongue into the folds of her vulva and swirling it around her love hole. With a final shriek, her body arched and she started to cum.

“OH MY GOD! OH YES! OH YES!” Gripping my head in a vice-lock with her thighs, and holding my ears firmly in her hands, Vidya bobbed up and down in the throes of her orgasm. Finally, after oozing out huge amounts of wetness, she subsided.

“Wow.” She remarked, finally catching her breath. “Good job, fatty. Come here. Let me reward you.”

I crept up her body. She cupped my wet face in her hands and kissed me. While I lay passively there, Vidya licked the base of my mouth and deep French-kissed me, rolling her tongue into me. Bending down one hand, she grabbed hold of my rigid shaft and started to stroke me.

“Ready to put your little dickie into use, darling?” She asked me, with a coy smile.

“Yes, my dear.”

“Would you like to put your small wee wee into my pussy, dear, or my butt?”

“Whatever gives you the most pleasure, darling.”

Vidya seemed to consider my answer for a while, before she slowly raised her hand to my face and gingerly rubbed my cheeks. Grimacing, I got ready for what I knew was coming.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

Vidya slapped me again, and again, and again. My cheeks flushed bright red, partly from the pain, partly from shame as my Indian wife, who is supposed to respect her husband, slapped me endlessly. Finally, she decided I had enough, and then she made me slowly suck her nipples. Vidya then grabbed my hand and led it to her love tunnel. She was leaking again! Slapping me had gotten her off. I slowly fingered her to her second orgasm of the night. Writhing, thrashing around, she moaned until the peak of her sexual excitation subsided.

Please wait…

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