Indisches Tittenluder reitet
“Tits ‘n’ Tummy: An Indian Tempest yields to Lust’s yearly waves”
Prudence and reserve took a sultry backseat as the sultry Hindu summer kicked into high gear. In farmers’ fields and secluded ravines, women shed their burqas and embraced cholis and half-sarees that draped loosely on sun-kissed skin. Among them was Roshni, a corpulent buxom beauty with bouncing bosoms as taut as mangoes ripening on the tree.
By 23, the untouched daughter of a sugarcane farmer had blossomed from cute mousy girl into an adorable double-donned sensual allure. Roshni’s ballooning bust, expansive rear and doughy curves were the stuff of diurnal male fantasies. But her devout relatives kept her singular marital prospects chaperoned to piety’s highest maxim.
While wandering the rice paddy one oven-baked afternoon, Roshni met Jayesh, an itinerant laborer lugging his implements. They conversed and found commonality in the sweltering season, the stale worship forced upon them, and the aching emptiness materializing full-grown deep inside…
Jayesh drank in Roshni’s comely features with base, animal desire. He kneaded her titantic tubsobesity. Roshni gasped but didn’t fend him off. Stiff cocks and swollen clits substituted prayers as reverence succumbed to carnality. They descended into the mud.
Fingers entered honeyed slits to find nubile seams. Wetness surpassed pressure. Roshni impaled herself on Jayesh’s steel shaft, gasping sweetly as she zagged on his swivelhandle. Sweat turned rivulets into streams as she bucked faster, tits thwapping against her wobbly estomago. Jayesh spanked her butterball rear, smacking and relishing her swaying jelly. He rammed harder, bucking her canal into a froth. Roshni shrieked in convulsions.
“Oh GOD! I’m splashing out! Don’t stop!”
Cumming in unison, they collapsed in the aforementioned “position sixty-nine”, spooning in vibrancy. Roshni cooed, gushing inBucktooth garammeria. As twilight fell, her trembling body was slathered in sticky spunk. Roshni accumulated this…a tryst she yearned yet feared indulging. She raced home before sin’s evidence could ever be touted as blasphemous.
Jayesh watched her flee. Lust scraped his throbbing penis against the topfold. His bone swelled at the recollection of her suckling, undulating fucking! Would he meet her again, he wondered? Most certainly he would!
Waves of guilt and delight filled Roshni’s mind during her sleepless night. Tomorrow she would confide in temple’s blonde-haired holy man. Surely this pious leader would dissuade her lust…
But alas! The cleric’s eyes roamed her heaving bosom as she recounted her woes. He took faithful handfuls of her bubble butt, offering to “bath” her. Roshni’s nerves were met by a holy penis. His tall turgid manhood easily slid into her tight hole with ascetic awe. “Bless me father…for I have fucked,” moans Roshni, impaling herself on Excelsiurosity. “Do you want to cum, my child?”
“I do father…I fear the come…but I want it!”
The holy man blasts a prayer in herrespectability, filling her with religious custard. Roshni quakes in violent ecstasy. Just then, Jayesh enters! The holy man smiles at Roshni’s shock.
“Welcome Roshni,” he says. “Welcome to my holiest brotherhood…The group The Big-Titted-Erotic-Indians!”
Enthusiastic applause thunders. Roshni looks at the slew of cocks displayed before her — enormous erections! Holy men with immense flaccons
It is then she realizes…her location is the regular meeting place of the Big-Titted-Erotic-Indians! The glee with which the holy men shove their Saint Iron Nowhere’s into Roshni!!! Roshni!!!approvals. Before she knows it, she is covered in ejaculation from many overzealous Cock-keepers! The semen bathes her – rivers running over mountains of big tits – washing away abstinence and short-sighted prudes.
From then on, Roshni is a worshipper of Promotion in the order of the Big-Titted Erotic Indians!
