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The same boobs that gave me my food at young age were in my hands , waiting to be sucked . I started licking a nipple with tounge and I heard my mother moaning. Not the fake moan like pornstars . This was real as if someone has got something that she was craving for ages. These moans made my dick harder and it was throbbing at her pussy now. I stopped kissing her boobs and started lifting her saree. She didn’t wear an underwear and I had lifted her saree so I could feel her pussy . I touched her pussy which was shaved.Now my moaning mother lowered my shorts and my 6 inch dick was out and near her pussy. She took it in her hand and was stroking it. I didn’t like the idea of us having sex with her saree and blouse disturbing us. I wanted to be completely naked , so I removed my shorts and I was completely naked. I spoke my first word and that was ‘ uth jara aai ‘ meaning just get up mother. She got up and was sitting beside me . I removed her blouse and started pulling her saree as I. Many days passed this way, and with each passing day, Karl became a cherished symbol of her hidden power. His name was Paul. He was fifty two years old, owned his own business, and he was going to the city to finalise a deal. He preferred to take the train he said, because of all the interesting people one often met on a train. She smiled, flattered and pleased by the way his eyes would flicker to and from her breasts. They both wore rings but after they’d introduced themselves to each other, they casually ignored this avenue of conversation. They talked quietly and laughed together and eventually his knee came to rest against hers and she knew she wanted him. When they disembarked the train together, she promised to meet with him for a drink the following afternoon and she entered his number on her phone. Paul turned out to be something other than she’d expected. After they’d sat at the bar for an hour or so, he’d suggested they went to a restaurant he knew, but when she’d accepted.
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