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Her lashes were so thick and long that she never had to bother with mascara. Her gorgeous face was framed by impossibly long, curly, thick black hair that fell to the middle of her back and that she frequently wore in a ponytail. Her skin was flawless; smooth, supple, soft and golden brown from many days toiling out in the hot Mexican sun. Her body was sculpted as if from the hands of Michael Angelo himself, firm and toned.A point of contention with her, and which also caused her a great deal of anguish and embarrassment were her breasts. As she had a petite frame, and thin waist, her breasts, even under the baggy peasant blouses that she wore, were prominent. Large, round and firm. She dreaded the visits into town to buy tortillas and vegetables and having to endure the endless stares and leering glances from the male townsfolk.Miguel, who ran the town's only market, was especially dreadful. He smelled like a donkey and made no effort to disguise his obvious lust. When she went to. She seems asleep. Her clothes are in a tidy pile beside her. Next to that is tumbler of red wine and an empty bottle.Still not casting a shadow over her I watch mesmerised as her ch1ldlike breasts rise and fall. As I take in her beauty she d****s a hand over a boob. Casually caressing a nipple causing it to swell. Her hand stops its play and rests. I have no idea who this MILF is.My dick just wants be to ravish this woman but my brain wins! Reluctantly, I move to cast a shadow over her face. Almost a minute passes before her brain kicks in. Opening her eyes she starts, “Who the fuc…” The un-named woman covers her pussy, her other hand grabbing some clothes to cover her remaining exposed body. Flustered she starts again.“Who are you? Its private land. How long have you been here?” she rambles out. I kneel beside her. “I am David. It is private land and long enough for you not to need these” I replying, gently pulling the blouse covering her tits. “May I. They’re a lovely sight.” She.
