” he stated reassuringly as I felt him position his tip against my quivering fleshy hole. His hands now tightly grasped my hips on both sides. Slow...y, with gradual but relentless pressure his organ began to make headway and my resisting ring of muscle started to yield. Then there came an abrupt and startling surrender. In a single exquisite motion his penis buried itself deep in the soft, wet, corridor of my rectal passage! Another MALE was fucking me! Intense, forbidden, and totally alien. I could almost hear the smile on her face as she talked to me. We chatted for a bit, I asked her if she had eaten dinner yet, and told her that I was going to find someplace to eat myself.After about twenty minutes, I told her good night. She thought that was special–that I would call her and tell her good night when only hours ago, I was just another customer at the diner she worked at!But in those hours since I walked into Ethel's a lot had transpired, and neither of us was the same person. Good thing I'm serious about neither.In 1847 immigrant Miles Murphy built a store and the first inn - The Swan Inn. A significant contributor to Binalong's early history, Murphy and his family established other businesses.The Swan was run as an inn until aboout 1886 when the licence was transferred to Patterson's Hotel, closer to the new railway station. After many years as a residence and derelict it was renovated in the late 1970s as a popular restaurant - the Black Swan - which it remains. ” I hurried into the kitchen in a state of growing anticipation. Tamsin was in charge tonight. I had brewed the butterscotch coffee that we both loved and brought it out on a tray with my best Wedgwood china. As I set the tray down on the coffee table, I could tell that she appreciated the trouble that I had gone to. She was English to the core and afternoon tea was a daily ritual for her. We sipped our coffee quietly; enjoying the rich flavour. Watching her, I could tell by the subtle.