Priya Fukumi Desi Indian Girl

My free hand sliding down over my stomach to the crest of my mound, feeling the soft growth of hair from the night, smiling in anticipation of a hot s...ower, the lather of soap, and the feel of my smoothness as the razor travels where my fingers now play. My heat mixed with the warmth of the water pouring over me. Knees parting wider, my lips part of their own accord, freeing my fingers to slide through my wetness. Looking over to the computer on my night stand, a wicked idea passes through my. He picked it up, stroking his thumb over it's silkiness. Smiling again, he placed the filmy garment on the counter near the sink.He let the cold water run, and once again washed his face and neck like a man trying to awaken. As he toweled himself dry he heard something. He cocked his head to listen, amused at his querulous reflection in the mirror."Michael?" the soft voice was clearer once he opened the bathroom door, the towel still in his hand."I'm in the bathroom, Erica." I woke up and you. More

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