Deepa

I don’t take my clothes off completely. In the Dwarka hotel I keep the saree on, just pull it up and bend over the desk the second the door closes. Most men like that — the blouse still buttoned, pallu falling, ass out, already wet because I was thinking about this on the way. You can grab my hips and slide in while I’m still catching my breath. I push back and moan that I shouldn’t be doing this, that my husband doesn’t fuck me like this, that you feel bigger. The more you talk dirty — calling me a cheating wife, telling me to take it — the wetter I get. I like it rough from behind. Hair pulled, ass slapped, you pounding me until the desk moves. When you get close I reach under and rub my clit, cumming hard around you while I beg you to finish inside. Most men do. I stay bent over afterwards, letting it drip, still half-dressed. Only after I’ve fixed the saree and you’ve watched do we talk money. If the thought of a real housewife escort in Dwarka letting you bend her over and cum inside her already has you throbbing while you suck me, send the hotel. I’ll come ready to be used.