Washington, if I interpret this correctly, a Miss Irina Berusova claims that I am the father of her — what? — fifteen-year-old son Daniel. I am co...nfused. I do not know of any Irina Berusova. Please enlighten me.”“Very well, Mr. Westbrook. It is possible that you knew Miss Berusova under her stage name, Iris Angel. She was part of the entertainment during your bachelor farewell and she claims that you and she retired to her hotel room afterwards. She also claims that you and she had sexual. But it kind of turned me on as well hearing her give him shit while he squirmed about in that chair. I started undressing Nidhi slowly and methodically in front of him. This was one thing I was really good at, undressing a woman. No fumble fingers. No way! I made sure he watched me taking liberties with her body, feeling her tits and ass, fingering her lovely pussy which was all lovely and sticky by now, starting to get nice and slick.I made her lie back on the floor in front of him, and to. There was no respect in his movements, no tenderness, on the contrary, this hairy 50 year old man was using his wife’s mouth as a fuck toy. With every thrust her breasts would bounce and she would let out a soft yelp. It wasn’t easy to endure, this frugal and aggressive mouth fucking she was subjected to, but that only added to the excitement of the situation for all parts involved. It was clear that the trucker loved shoving his dirty dick in this respectful wife’s mouth, because he was. All she could hear was the faint sound of James Taylor somewhere in the distance and the beating of her own heart. He was a caring, sensual lover, but control always lurked just below the surface and she knew tonight was no different. ‘Don’t struggle,’ he whispered as he pressed the weight of his body against hers, pinning her firmly face down on the bed. His voice calmed her. She was never afraid, but his movements caught her by surprise. She relaxed against him, feeling the heat of his body.