Despite collaborative attempts, neither of the poets was inspired by the gloom and damp, and Mary also looked strained under the pressure of having to...compose something in such pressurised circumstances and poetically exalted company. If the days were uninspiring, then Byron decreed that they would create by night. So one chilly evening, Byron ordered the shutters to be closed and the logs piled high in the great open fireplace and all the available candelabra to be lit as the guests gathered. Someone reported a male and female leaving the bar at oh-dark-thirty this morning and skulking away down the beach. Your guys arrived here in about five minutes to investigate. They found my back gate unlocked and gave me a call to see if I could come down to let them enter the premises and check things out. That gate has to be closed and locked at certain times. I got here and saw that the gate hadn't been forced open – and I knew that only you and I have a key for it – so I suspected it was. Well there I am with my beer and sandwich, and I glance toward the entrance just as she's strutting toward a table.Convincing she was not, a crossdresser without question. But pretty, really pretty. And the way she walked, shit, I was getting hard just watching her. She wore a tight black miniskirt, sheer stockings over sexy clean shaven legs, and a nice pair of heels. And man could she walk. I was in trouble.The crowd was buzzing, and it was about to buzz a lot more. Everyone knew she was. I have nice firm, perky titties, with soft pink nipples. I'm wearing a black and gold dress, paired with black thigh high stockings and gold flats. I'm standing in the train holding the hand grip above my head. I'm facing the window as I love watching things pass by. As the subway makes another stop, more people push their way in. I find myself surrounded by men, the smell of alcohol and other drugs filling the air, as well as different colognes. They pack tightly around me. I feel a hand.