Sam spotted Prema at the bustling Chennai hotel bar, her sharp eyes scanning the room like she owned it. "Married from Tuticorin, are we?" he quipped, sliding onto the stool beside her. Prema smirked, swirling her drink. "And you're the smooth talker from Chennai who thinks he can charm his way into anything. Careful, Sam—my husband's not the only one who bites." Their banter crackled: she teased his overconfidence, he countered with witty jabs about her hidden desires, until the air thickened with tension. Back in his suite, Prema pushed him against the wall, her hands firm. "You want me? Earn it." She dropped to her knees for a teasing blowjob, her tongue working his hard cock until it throbbed. Sweating and panting, she stood, guiding his hands to her dripping wet pussy. "Fuck me like you mean it," she demanded, strong and unyielding. Sam thrust deep into her ass and pussy, their bodies slamming as she rode him with fierce control, both horny and lost in the rhythm. He came hard, cum spilling as she climaxed with a wicked laugh, proving she was no one's to tame.
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