’ ‘Stillwater Lodge, what a lovely name.’ ‘What about Miranda?’ ‘Um…’ ‘She was the woman in my mother’s favourite poem as a girl a...d she taught it to me. It was composed by Hilaire Belloc in 1929 and called Tarantella (an Italian dance) and the setting is at an inn on the Spanish side of the border with France. It starts off like this: Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? And the tedding and the spreading Of the straw for a bedding, And the fleas that tease in the High. I live in the Midlands and so there is quite a choice of venues.I hadn't been to a porn cinema for ages and when the chance of freedom came to visit one I was hugely excited. Even as I approached I could feel my cock beginning to surge in eager anticipation. As soon as I went in it was growing even more and as my eyes adjusted to the light what I saw soon had me rock hard. Everyone was openly wanking either themselves or someone else and one guy was standing up in front of another who was. **Jesus Christ did the temperature sky rocket in this house??** He can’t take it any longer, he couldn’t care less in what condition his own shirt is in. It must leave her body at once! And he’d be damned if he was going to take anymore time unbuttoning that shirt the rest of the way! He takes his hand off her breast and out from underneath the shirt, and he surprises her by ripping the shirt open the rest of the way. Some of the buttons can be heard being popped off and making ticking sounds. I can't wait to see it pressing against your asshole and then watch as I fuck you with it."She pulled the dick out of my mouth. Wait. I was not ready. I did not speak out of fear for what she might do if I did. I felt her move back towards my ass. She grabbed my hard cock and started rubbing it. It felt odd, something was different. Suddenly she stopped and walked back around to the front of me. "Suck my dick again, slut," she told me demandingly.I opened my mouth and as soon as the dildo.