Somehow we had a connection. What can I say to him? What does he know about his mother, or about his father? The email I’d received was from Jean Va...pilov, her son. Svetlana is dead. The story you are about to hear was told to me in the summer of 1995. I will try my best to recount it accurately. A few years have passed so allow me some poetic licence. The story was delivered across a white pine table in a dreary restaurant turned bar in Kyzyl, southern Siberia. The wooden planks of the. The suddenly I went down and our lips met. This was wild ! She was a master in kissing. She kissed me so passionately that I got in the seventh heaven. We were smooching, we exchanged our saliva and while kissing she bit my lower lip too. Still we continued to kiss. My hands moved from her shoulders to her face and she bound her legs to my waist. We both rolled up. Our lips held each other together and my hands started exploring her back. So hot she got from just kissing.We broke the kiss and I. More

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