" said mom, in conversation on the following Saturday. I was making a cup of coffee as she put on her gardening clothes. I hid my pup tent at her ment...on of it. I'd seen the half finished scrapbook a few days before. I wondered if I could sneak another look at it in her room while she was out in the garden.This was what I did. Opening the briefcase in her room, I found the finished work. I wouldn't have time to wank over it, I'd have to let it throb and hopefully not cum in my pants, and. ‘You’re not falling for him… He’s evil…’ Yet, for all of her silent, inward crusade to rid herself of the feelings of warmth and infatuation with Mikhail, she just couldn’t convince herself enough. There was just something about him that was more than his obvious handsome appearance, some coarse personality that could only pull her closer to him. Angelique couldn’t help to shake the feeling that somewhere under that cold, Russian Mobster mentality was the soft, caring man. Her punishments were. More

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