If this had been any other day, she should be busy embroider, perfecting the technique for when she would have to portray on a tapestry the deeds of her husband, the tale of her family; she should study herbs to tend to the indisposition of her future husband; she should be studying history to be able to teach her children; she should be praying in her spare time. Indian sex video Now the girl was sitting on her bed, alone, wrapped–up in a simple robe, as water was still dripping down her neck. The heaving man tried to catch his breath, his heartbeat quickly slowing down to a relaxed rhythm. The girls could smell the scent of the dawn of spring coming from outside:
She could feel blossoming flowers pollinated into fruits as she caressed her breasts, arching her back forward, spreading her legs wide, tense;
She could feel fruitful fields softened by dew, plowed and sowed by the strong oxen, as her gentle fingers traced her body down to her glistening sex;
She could feel a rutting stallion mounting his mare in heat… the same heat she felt spreading between her smooth thighs, as she fondled her damp clitoris, whimpering, desperate to cling to a real man, aching to fulfill the call of nature.
