I lived nearby, and often came to Zhenya after school because I liked it a lot more than at home. Unlike me, he did not live with a bunch of relatives...in a small "hruschovke," and in this house - a two-story, enclosed by a high fence, with its own garden, and in the yard he was a real pool! And in this huge house Eugene had lived alone with his mother - his father had died a few years ago.It happened in one day in May, shortly before the holidays. I went to my friend after school - we have not. 'Open file?' was the option. She could always delete it. She didn't have to look.She opened it. In a flash his picture was on her screen.Her heart stopped.She couldn't breathe.And she couldn't tear her eyes away.It was a close up. Brown eyes. Dark brown. Almost black like her own. Deep and mysterious. Lines at their corners. Not deep. His face was timeless. She glanced at his mouth. Her heart skipped a beat. He was smiling! His lips were full, light pink on his tanned skin. The corners of his. Did I forget to mention that the weather had dropped down to the negatives. Man I nearly froze to death. The only thing that kept me warm was fantascizing about Rebecca’s warm perfectly curved body and sticking my hard cock into her tight pussy. But of course my fantasy was interrupted by a loud banging on the door the next morning. Pierre apparently wanted to be at the photo shooting spot before it becomes to crowded. Before I was able to grab some breakfast, he slammed several camera bags. When my suitcase was empty and he had found nothing he turned back to me. "Now I have to search you," he said. "Turn around against the wall, hands up and legs apart. I reluctantly obeyed. He pressed himself against me, his hands slipped from my hands, down my armpits over my shirt, stopping at my breasts up to my waist, back up again and kneading my breasts. While protesting I tried to turn around but he held me firmly pressed against the wall. "You'd better cooperate," he hissed, "or we'll.