I had arranged to meet Angela in a pub called the Lord Nelson, named for Norfolk's most famous son. I was early and slipped into the warmth of the snu... Saloon Bar, which was already starting to fill with lunchtime drinkers. Listening to the accents, it was obvious that few locals patronised the place at weekends. Most of the people were 'second homers', up from London, as I was. I ordered a pint of Adnam's Best Bitter and found myself a table where I could watch the door and be easily seen when. Getting up off the couch, I pulled her legs up, and folded them over her torso, wrapping her shorts around the back of her head like loading a slingshot. With her body nearly folded in half and her legs spread wide, her cunt stood out like an actress in a spotlight. “Pleaaasssssee! Doooon’t!” she stammered, sluggishly unable to get out of her makeshift restraints, “What, di-did you do-o to m-me?”Plowing my face into her perfect cunt, I moved my tongue through her folds, gliding it up and down. More

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