At the end of each row is a sign revealing the nature of these tales for the inquisitive to peruse. The theme for this particular row says "Victoriana - Fiction from a golden age." cowgirl Wandering between the walls of each literary cavern, a singular title catches the eye and you stop and remove the leather-bound book from amongst its companions. You show me the title and I smile.� Retiring to the reading room, we sit in a quiet corner and you open the book at the first page as we begin to discover those bawdy tales from Old London Town... Foreword: Down a sun-kissed valley and up over a green hill did one come upon the splendid sight of Old London Town. A landscape of steeples, spires, and belching chimney pots stretching to the far horizon as the populace go about their daily business. Each living their own stories that would be told over and over as the years and generations pass. But some of those tales can only be spoken about in dark japanese shadows with a nudge and a wink. Bawdy stories. teen Ribald stories. Lusty stories that quicken the heart, catch the breath and fire the blood. Stories that aren't told in polite company. Tales that can only be asian shared in places such as this. The Author. Holywell Street. London. November 1899. Privately Printed. For Mature Readers. 1: Bigus Dickus. "Good God almighty," the woman exclaimed as she stood there in the doorway holding a pile of freshly ironed laundry for her new lodger. Remembering her station, she put a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. "Forgive my intrusion, Sir." Mrs. Hoopenlicker was not one to stand on ceremony and always spoke her mind. Twice widowed and once forsaken, the woman had the benefit of wit, wisdom, and life experience. Or so she thought as she stared unabashedly at the dangling member belonging to the young man standing naked in front of her. Gathering her wits, she knocked on the door she had already innocently opened. "There I go again," she tutted as she stepped into the spare bedroom. "My most sincere apologies for barging in on you, Mr. Johnson. I thought, perhaps, you had gone out for a short walk to familiarize yourself with your new situation and surroundings. The old lady can be quite the eye-opener for those who have not experienced life in the big city." Albert Johnson finally found his voice as he stood there still dripping water onto the polished wooden floor. "Uh, I, well," he coughed and stammered as he tried to cover his modesty with his hands. A futile gesture for he was well aware that, endowed as he was, a fair portion of his member was still showing. "That is quite alright, Mrs. Hoopenlicker. No harm done. An instant later, she opened the door just wide enough to look through the gap and smiled when she saw it was me. She teen had to have been waiting just the other side of it. He screamed as it crushed his bones in its grip and began dragging him towards the deep mud. “Jesus, you have a asian body built to fuck…” I said as I moved my hands down between her legs. That wouldn't be a problem this time, though. Now I really had to pee, and cowgirl I knew he would not be able to hold it all, but I was going let it all loose anyway. Some weeks there was an event every night, other weeks nothing. When you're ready, after you've given me your cherry, I want to lick cum out of your pussy, too. Whoa, I thought. It will be up to japanese him to approve every expenditure, and he'll report to us weekly. She couldn’t stop me from seeing Cleo, but after that weekend, I never saw Cora.