His fascination with her hair raises serious concerns about the animal; he smells it, slides it through his fingers, and rubs his face into the soft, ...lightly-scented strands. Standing before her, he grasps a fistful of her hair in each paw and yanks it forward, pulling her head closer to his. Licking his lips, he releases her hair only to be captivated once again with the slow motion fluttering until it comes to rest around her shoulders and partially coverers her breasts.She must have. This time her mum didnt wipe it into Angelas mout but left it there as a final humiliation. The pain from the oven must have been unbearable now, and we were only minutes away from Angelas final moments, her eyes were wide and she looked as though she had seen a ghost she was so scared.There was a click and I didnt think it was possible but Angelas eyes opened even wider as she started to choke, first she coughed a bit then she took a deep breath and groaned as she couldnt breath out. Her face. He started stroking my buttocks , caressing my ass with his hands , gentle strokes on my back , suddenly he slapped my ass ,.. hard , and again , and again . I didn't know what to expect when i got here at his house , his lair , his bedroom.... the slaps hurt but at the same time it got me aroused.... he put one of his fingers in his mouth , and i felt his slippery finger run through my asscrack , fingering my hole , playing around ,he wet it again with his saliva and he fingered me again ,". You could never resist the storytelling, or storytold, nature of our lives.I know your response to my first e-mail was merely caution on your part. But I hope that the details I’ve provided demonstrate that not only are you who you say you’re not, but that I am also who you say I can’t be. The cyber tide has brought your message in a bottle to my ragged little shore. (And it is a shore; I inhabit something like an island these days, T. Right now I’m cross-legged on the very same big “marital”.