My Darling Bollywood Babe

Phil was an early-maturing adolescent, a virgin who had only discovered the pleasures of masturbation a few weeks before the end of eighth grade and was yet to show any signs of a beard. Now his happy penis, hard as a wooden chair leg, was buried in the folds of his lovely Aunt Joyce's warm body, and he had his arms about her waist and his head between her firm breasts. He humped and thrust, as she seemed to draw him deeper and deeper with her vaginal muscles, his mind completely blank but his. How would Mom’s larger breasts feel in my hands?“Oh, yes, James,” she moaned. “Oh, you’re such an amazing big brother. Just awesome.”“Going to cum?” I asked her then took a flick at her clit.“So hard,” she moaned, her fingers pulling at my hair. She shivered as my tongue battered her clit, flicking over and over. “Oh, god, big brother!”I loved it when she called me big brother as she came.Her juices flooded my hungry mouth. That spicy delight. I drank them down while her asshole spasmed on my. My tongue flicked up to her clit. She gasped. Then her tits heaved. Pussy cream gushed out of her cunt. I groaned, drinking the spicy delight of the reverend's wife. Her juices splashed on my face. I gulped them down with hunger, my futa-dick throbbing and aching.“Sky!” she moaned, her body heaving. “Oh, Lord, that's so good!”I drank her juices, gulping them down. Her black bush tickled my face. I loved every moment of gulping down all that wonderful cream. I drank with such hunger. My tongue. .. Yes, thank you.”My car was ready for me and I was ready for my big entrance.The car ride to my old school was uneventful and it seemed to take ages to get there. I could see the old building looming closer, its lights on full blast lighting up the night sky. I was dropped off and I made my way inside. It was just as I remembered it and very little had changed.I saw a few people I recognized and made small talk with them. I remembered why I hated school and saw some of the people I still.
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