Peculiar delivery in Sandra’s wazoo.

Special delivery in Sandra's wazoo.

Fifty-seven-year-old Sandra Martines is tidying up around the abode. Right away, we’ve to watch her bright-red, manicured fingernails, dick-sucking lips and magnificant deep cleavage. Sandra is humming. That is supposed to mean that babe craves to give a hummer. This babe takes off her robe, and she’s wearing a bra that makes her large love melons bulge and matching knicker knickers that look great on her large gazoo. The panty part disappears between those larger than typical a-hole cheeks. The delivery chap knocks on the door. “Come on in,” she says. That charmer walks in. He sees Sandra on the daybed in her below garment and panties. That stud drops the box on the floor. He’s taken aback. “Should I come back later?” he asks. Later? When she’s dressed adore that? Nope, she urges him now. In her throat, between her melons, in her bawdy cleft and, lastly, in her arse. Sandra one time said us that people who know her would be very surprised if they saw her here, rogering on-camera, because, “I have by no means posed bare or done any kind of sex vids. I’m not a swinger. I’m not even a nudist.”
Surprise, surprise! Now she’s here, getting ass-fucked. And that’s part of the ravisher of

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