Saroja smoothed her saree with a sly smile as she opened the door for Prakash. 'You came early, old man. Thought you'd chicken out after all that office flirting,' she teased, her voice sharp and commanding. Prakash chuckled, stepping inside. 'With a woman like you inviting me? I'd run through traffic. But your son?' Saroja laughed, pulling him close. 'Kumar's at school till evening. Now shut up and kiss me like you mean it.' Their lips met hungrily. Soon clothes scattered. Saroja pushed Prakash onto the couch, straddling him. 'Look at that hard cock already throbbing for me,' she said, gripping it firmly. She lowered herself, her wet pussy dripping as she took him in. 'Fuck, you're tight,' Prakash groaned, panting. Saroja rode him hard, her ass bouncing. 'Harder, or I'll find someone who can.' She leaned for a blowjob, sucking deeply until he came, cum spilling over her lips. Sweating and horny, they switched angles—doggy, then missionary—her pussy clenching as she demanded more. 'Don't stop till I say.' Prakash thrust wildly, both panting. Little did they know, Kumar, home early with pain, watched secretly from the small window, eyes wide at the explosive scene unfolding.
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