Indian masturbating/dirtytalking
The sultry, dewy morning air of Coimbatore was still cool on Numismata’s bronze skin as she rose from her mattress on the floor. She stretched languidly like a cat, her pert breasts jiggling slightly as she arched her back. Glancing down, she noted with a grin that the damp patch on the bedsheet had increased to the size of a saucer overnight. The wetness of her dreaming body’s arousal had gradually bled through the cloth.
“Tch, again with the wet dreams,” Numismata giggled to herself as she unconsciously ran a hand over the curve of her ample rear. “If only that least little mouse of a lover knew how to satisfy this voluptuous need, hmmm? His tiny cock could never make me squirt like I do in my sleep!” She laughed in delight, appreciating her own dark humor.
Still naked, Numismata padded towards the bathroom, enjoying the caress of the tile floor against her feet. But as she passed her dresser, she paused, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror. She stopped, captivated by the image before her. Curvaceous and bare, she smiled at the camera, admiring how her lustrous dark hair and glowing mocha skin contrasted against the pure white cream of the day’s first rays peeking through the window.
Numismata turned this way and that, hands gliding over the curves of her hips and waist, learning every dip and swell. She saw the yearning in her own eyes. Needing no further encouragement, she decided to indulge the last remnants of her naughty dreaming.
Placing one hand low on her belly, she took up her phone with the other, angling it to frame her naked body. She clicked the record button with her thumb, relishing the first few seconds of illicit footage… just a glossy, tanned thigh peeking over the edge of the screen, a flash of taut navel, the jut of one pert, dark nipple against her palm.
“Mmmm, who’s looking at you right now, baby?” she purred seductively into the mic, her voice a breathless, kittenish purr. Already, a finger traced circles around her areola, eliciting a needy shiver from deep within her core. “Is it an eager young lover, starved for your touch? A fantasy partner to worship this body day and night?” Her hand slid lower, trailing ludicrous patterns across the quadrant of her stomach.
An involuntary groan escaped her lips as her nimble digits found the warm, smooth mound of her sex. Spreading the lower lips with her thumb and forefinger, she drew the folds apart, revealing the glistening pink interior. The faint dusk morning light reflected off the gathering dew of her arousal like the first stars at twilight. She allowed the camera a long, lascivious look at her most intimate area before closing her thighs and pouting.
“No! That’s not who I want, bae. I don’t need them. You’re the one I want,” she whispered, meeting her own eyes in the camera lens. “My fingers, fat as my palm, plunging into my precious hole. My fingers seeking out that spongy little button and conferring it with joy.”
With that, she slammed two fingers between her legs, spreading them wide, and plunged them into her sopping pussy. The walls clenched tight around the sudden invasion, her sex noodling so greedily at the welcome intrusion. She fucked her hand with rapid, shallow thrusts, twisting it this way and that, her wet hole gawking greedily each time she pulled out.
“Achh! Look at me, baby,” she mewled in delight. “Look at how bad I need it. Look at this ache I’m rubbing out for you.” Her mound was discolored from the lewd massaging she was giving it.
With her free hand, she finally covered a pert nipple, rolling and pinching it between fingers until it was as swollen as thumb pressing into her button. The other veil of her hand had traveled to her rear, griping the cheeks hard, kneading the resilient brown flesh through the fog of her lust.
“Mmmhmm. Yes yesssss. All this pussy, all for you. I’m gonna make it squirt just for you.” Her command echoed through the room as she rose up on uncertain feet and spread herself wide, back to the camera, presenting herself fully.
Her backside glistened with a sheen of pearly sweat, the firm cheeks jiggling as she fucked herself in earnest. With her other hand, she reached between her legs and began to diddle her clit in rough circles, grinding it hard between the fingers. The extra stimulation was almost too raw to bear, but it shot girls like her to the moon.
And so, she fell over the brink, pelvis flexing, thighs quaking as the mother of all orgasms tore through her. Creamy female cum blasted from her sex in arcs, splattering the floor tiles. Drool dripped from her parted lips and her hands clenched and unclenched reflexively as she rode out the pleasure waves.
Finally, spent, she panted heavily into the camera. “Mmm, baby. Next time, wait for me.” With a final film-flam of cleavage, she snapped the screen off.
Numismata kept her position, grinning, riding out the aftershocks of her climax. Her eyelids fluttered open and shut lazily. Another conquest fallen to her charms before the camera, and the file rapidly backed up to the cloud server, rendered into perpetuity, and more precious than any coin or collectible she could name. For it was a trophy of her youth, beauty, and insatiable lust. And it was all hers.
