) The poems: are by George Gordon, Lord Byron, Alfred Tennyson (not ennobled at the time of this story), and Robert Herrick. Picture of carousel sign....I cannot bear it, I cannot bear it, I cannot bear it! When the feelings rise up in me, I try. I do try. Mama sees the truth. She gives me a look. I tremble so, for fear she will punish me again, and the feelings come rising up — choking me. I try to look down, modestly, to still my beating heart, to stop the flushed blood rising in my cheeks. I. Black and Johnson said they wanted the spreader bar. They wanted better access to her ass, my ass. Everyone seemed to agree and I was soon manipulated into the cuffs of the spreader. Then my legs were raised over my head and attached to a hook. The hook had seemed so innocent before now. Like the sort of thing you hang a light or a plant on. I didn't expect to be hung on it myself! They started playing with my ass. I squirmed. I had never had anything in my ass before. The two women were. " He said.He seemed to pretty much know off the top of his head why you were sneaking around so you just walked over and grabbed the headphones.You were most concerned about paying for your stuff at the register because that is the part where you had to interact with someone and not just sneak around. When you reached the counter, you take note of the young woman operating the register. She was around 6'1. That may seem large, but that's suprisingly average for a woman. Her tits were noticingly. He asked me “You do not want to watch porn to get into the mood?” I could see him smiling. “Are you not in the mood?” I asked. He came close to me and whispered “You speak too much” and we started kissing our lips. It was juicy and he was really tasty. His perfume was also enhancing my horny level. I pulled him on top of me. I was running my hands through his back. I was hugging him tightly and we were still smooching. We made our tongues touch. I sucked his tongue and he sucked mine.We played.