Everyone in the lobby was looking at me, a hot Indian housewife, especially at my midriff. My saree pallu was flying in the air giving everyone a show...of my navel. I realized it and quickly covered it.“You can go in. Your husband works on the fifth floor,” he said. The elevator door was about to close, but I managed to get in. Only one man was in. He must be above 40, got a little belly fat but didn’t look unfit at all. I noticed him checking out my body through the elevator door. The tongue on my neck makes me whimper. He’s so smooth and soft against my back as if he’d just shaved. His hungry mouth explores my sides as if he needs his teeth and lips to understand my body’s position. Sweet tickling torture when he nibbles my ass, licks between my spread thighs.The lube is cold when he pours it onto my back. Warm by the time it drips into my ass. He massages me wide, so generous, so careful, so damned hot. He’s brought toys, but I only realize it when the “finger” in my. More

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