" That set the tone for the weekend. Mr. Prince was a thin, tired man. He was more interested in food and such than in anything else. He said he was c...onsidering selling up – developers were interested."Because of Banjo?" I asked."Yes. There was a movie and now folks are more interested in him. We read some of his poems when I was at school." "Most likely sang at least one." "Eh?" "Banjo Paterson wrote 'Waltzing Mathilda'." "Garn!," Mrs. Prince added."No, really. I brought the poems with me.. He opened the padlocked door to his pigeon loft and we walked in, there were feathers everywhere, rebel had been to get to the pigeons and had some success with about six of them, dad went crazy, he grabbed rebel by the collar and shook him hard, he put his lead on and shouted that’s fucking enough that’s the last he will harm my birds, I took it he meant to put the dog down. I said to dad, don’t kill him dad, let him come home with us, we can have him as a pet, dad was reluctant, he told me. We both hugged so tight kissing each other and she made my cock erect ready again I made her to spread her leg wide and started to lick her again and I slowly inserted my finger and did fingering, then inserted my second and third fingering and started to finger fuck her by now she had her second orgasm.Now she was completely wet and I positioned my cock on entrance of her love hole, and pushed half of my cock went inside she shouted on pain I removed and pushed slowly she told me to stop but I. Do you have everything you need for that?”“I was planning to buy another riding skirt before Felix took the money. This one’s getting worn out and I can’t wear my dresses on horseback. He had our tent and our cooking gear too. I guess I should be glad he left my harp case.” Luckily, Felix had never liked the harp much. Her precious flute—one of the first things she’d ever stolen—was still safe in her saddlebag. The harp was worth more, but the flute had always represented a different life to.