“Not now, anyway.” He let out a chuckle. “Killed the mood there, didn’t I?”“No, it was my shitty kissing,” I assured him, then added coy...y, “we can always try again… now?”Oh, that smile! Even half hidden in darkness, it was beautiful.“There is something you need to know first,” he said, slowly, monitoring my face for a reaction. “I wasn’t born ‘Amelio’.”“So… your great-grandmother wasn’t Mexican?” I ventured.“Actually, she was, and my birth name was Spanish, too. But… you know the Johnny Cash. She was tied to a pummel horse, feet bound to the legs, draped over the tops and her arms bound to the other side of the legs. A line formed round her, waiting for their taste of her cunt. The men watched her arousal as they stroked their cocks, waiting, watching, aching for their turn on the whore. She cried out as the wave of orgasm rolled over her once again. Another man plundered her hidden velvet depths with piston force. He rocked the pummel horse that was securely fixed to the floor. More

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