Loving My Raised Mother

Renovations

Arya walked towards her room after closing the door to Rania's room. His eyes darted and turned off the middle room light. Continue to open the room door and find Fatma is cleaning clothes into Arya's closet.

Click! arya locks the door, takes her steps to the sofa and sits there.

Fatma turned her head towards Arya with a smile. "I want to take a shower, but take care of this first."

"Ooh, if you don't like the decor of this room. Can be renovated as you wish." Reply Arya while looking towards Fatma.

The Netra of Fatma's eyes swept across the room. Indeed the room with a typical bekron men with pictures of the plane. Pictures of the sky, wallpaper about the birds.

"If possible, I add or replace some of it with floral and marine wallpaper. Can you?" ask Fatma carefully.

"May, whatever. I don't mind even if it's all renovated." Reply Arya gives freedom to the wife.

"Em .. thanks?" Fatma described the smile she was pointing at Arya.

"The whole unit is too. What matters is that I like it, I like it too." Arya added while laying her body on the sofa.

Be quiet!

Fatma finished her work. Once done Fatma keeps the suitcase on top of the closet. Grabbing his towel he delivered it on his shoulder, but before going into the bathroom. Fatma approached Arya.

"Aa, if the laundry is in londry or-"

"I usually wash myself. Like yourself, sometimes londry too but more at home anyway nyuci itself, use the machine as well."

"Ooh! I sent it to the house ah. But why bother also bring it to Mension tell an assistant here, if there is a lot of laundry. After all the tools here are also complete," said Fatma nodded to herself.

Arya's hand grabbed Fatma's fingers in her soft squeeze. "Whatever baby!" Arya got up to sit down and the hand that was still holding Fatma's hand, pulled to sit on Aryan's lap.

"By the way. When is it finished?" search Arya after Fatma is in her lap.

"No idea. There's still, "his voice is slow.

Arya knows the lethargic breath. "His length .. is tormented." Poking a lip on Fatma's cheek.

"What length?" muttered Fatma, in her little heart felt pity for Arya who craved her.

Fatma's hand stroked Arya's cheek in her gentle and soulful gaze. "Patience huh? maybe tomorrow's over."

Then a friendly kiss rained down on Arya's disappointed-looking face.

Arya feels happy mixed dag-dig-dug, she can make out with women who are halal for her, then Arya kisses Fatma's lips very friendly.

Not even Arya's lips landed on Fatma's lips, Fatma had closed her eyes welcoming Arya's face that was getting closer.

Slowly sweep its surface and then m*Lum* its soft. Not even hands go anywhere. Me**m** fruit that looks fresh and ripe.

The touch of her lips dropped to her neck while exploring her there for a long time getting down to the chest area of the opposite sex. His breathing felt like hunting sounded heavy and demanding.

Fatma, Arya fondled her and carried her to the bed. So fun now they are almost innocent like a newborn baby, they only leave the inside.

Similarly, Fatma is too carried away by such a large wave. A red mark was already widely imprinted on his chest. And none left a red mark on the neck. Because it's Fatma's own request that doesn't want any mark on the neck.

They keep making out. Enjoying each other's touch, occasionally escaping the hissing sound of the two.

When we were near the gate. Fatma pushed Arya's chest while whispering. "Prophey huh?"

Instantly Arya drops herself next to Fatma lying staring at the ceiling with emotions she is trying to control. Breathing that breaths. A desire that is almost peaking and almost powerless he controls. He made her suffer, tormented.

Fatma's bead eyes stared at Arya with an unbearable look. Arya doesn't want to be looked at. He turned his body sideways and lay on his stomach to hide something that stuck down there.

Fatma covered her chest with a blanket, her almost innocent body was decorated with sweat that adorned her body.

Then Fatma got up and grabbed the clothes and rushed to the bathroom, not forgetting to grab her towel.

Unimagined how tight Arya's chest was. His clenched hand hit the mattress, at this moment his chest felt coxed, angry at himself that it was hard to be patient. Waiting for his holy wife.

"Patience .. hold ... Huoh ...."

"Patience, who would it be if not for me, too. Let's just say it's still dating, which should put some distance to the good of both." Arya monologues herself.

He who only uses the interior, still feels at home lying on his stomach. Without covering her body with a blanket, she let her body just like that.

Fatma was still in the bathroom, feeling her chest pounding unruffled. His chest seemed to rise and fall and Fatma tried to control it as well.

Fatma immediately entered the bathub that she had filled with her favorite fragrance. Then move under a warm shower.

Grabbing a towel and clothes wrapped around his body. She hesitantly pulls the door, so embarrassed to go out and meet Arya.

But what he found after the bathroom door opened. Her netra immediately found Arya who did not budge. With the position of sleeping on his stomach, maybe since earlier Arya did not change himself.

Fatma approaching. Pulling a blanket to cover Arya's half-plain body.

Fatma herself approached the mirror to give fragrance to her entire body. Combing and wearing body lotion.

He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment. Then comb her hair for a bit. Then put your feet back on the bed.

Crawl up and replace the lamp into a dim light. Get into the same blanket as Arya.

For a moment Fatma stared at the unmoved husband. Fatma's hand stroked Arya's hair very gently.

"Dear, sorry? wait a minute ... again," he murmured Fatma, without burden.

Seen Aryan body movements and turned back on his back. Apparently Arya had fallen asleep from earlier even with an upset and disappointed heart.

Netra eye Fatma watched the husband intensely from head to bottom that had been to the tip of the foot, stopping in the middle of which there was something that seemed to strike under the blanket.

Fatma's lips are flattering. Showing a smile and a shy blush. But his curiosity was so deep, that he ventured to feel with his hands.

Although slowly but surely, his palm leads to something that arises, geph! fatma's hand touched something big and moved. Like living things.

Several times Fatma swallowed her saliva that was stuck in the throat. For a moment his hand was silent there, his bead Fatma's eyes brushed away ....

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