Dally hothits

The whites of her knuckles showed where she gripped the bag in her other hand. She stood statuesque in the middle of the room; her head still bowed, a...thin cotton flower print dress hanging on her limp body. “Put the bag down.” She dropped it at her feet, simply opening her hand to allow it to fall. It was the simplest of movements, almost pitiful.“Take your dress off.” I noticed her glance up at the window, the calculation of the possibility of being seen through the patio doors was plainly. This time, I pushed left and a little up. She squeaked with each insertion and removal, her hips wriggling in concert with my finger. I repeated my line of questioning each time. She repositioned her hands on her ass to get a better grip. She was holding on so tight she was leaving hand prints. I smiled as I noted the moisture on her slit. I patiently finger fucked her ass, working meticulously around her rosebud. By the halfway point, she was moaning and practically fucking herself on my. More

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