White Tail Eagles: part 2  Brian and Robyn continue North. by  WirdSmiff - listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Brian is on his way to Scotland to see White Tailed Eagles. While still not far from home he picked up Robyn, every red blooded man’s best possible dream girl. “If we stop about 5:30, that be OK?” “You’re driving, I’m happy to stop when you are.” “OK navigator, you’ve got the map and the site guides are in the glove box. Somewhere you fancy between 4:30 and 6:00. It’s dual carriageway to Oxford so about a couple of hours if the traffic behaves. Somewhere an hour or so after Oxford. You’re in charge Ms. Scout.” It was a delightful drive with periods of contemplative silence interspersed with navigational instructions and observations. I realised why I missed using maps for navigation as soon as she told me ‘the Ridgeway Path’ runs across just here and much later on ‘that’s the River Glyme’. You don’t get that kind of stuff on a Sat-Nav. We pulled into the car-park of a pub on the Stour a bit after 5 and not very far off route. It was perfect, a small section at the bottom of the car-park set aside for camper vans had electric hook-ups, a fresh water supply and grey water disposal. Willows lined the river bank. “This do?” “Looks absolutely perfect,” I replied with a smile. “Mind if I have a shower?” “Not at all. I’ll go and tell the Landlord we’re here then I’ll go after you. Is 7 too early to eat?” “Sounds good. I could wait and we can shower together,” she grinned. “Or I could rustle up some coffee and make the bed. We could try it for size for a while?” I leered dirtily. “Be as quick as I can!” We sat in the swivelled Captains chairs facing into the habitation end and supping our mugs of coffee. The silver screens were up and the blinds down. It was warm, cosy and we were both naked. “Did you mind me blowing you with that guy watching?” she asked tentatively. “Hey! I’m a porn star remember? Used to a full production crew being present,” I laughed, “quite enjoyed it actually especially after seeing his little weaner, probably wouldn’t have reached the back of your mouth much less filled your throat… y'know you did take a hell of a lot for someone who’d not had a cock that size before. I’m very impressed.” “I’ve not had a cock that size anywhere near me until today but that hasn’t stopped me practicing with suitable dildos, just in case I met you. There’s two things I think you should know about me; I love sex, addicted to it, in all its forms. It’s a hobby. I don’t think I’m a nympho, like I don’t shag just anything with a cock but, given the right persuasion, I could change my mind. I’ve enjoyed group sex and have no problem with having an audience as I said and have probably proved. I love the taste of spunk in my mouth and the feel of spunk on my body, as I believe I’ve also demonstrated. I don’t think I’ve got any hang-ups. If I have I haven’t discovered them yet. I haven’t found anything I dislike. I wouldn’t want to be arrested for indecent behaviour in a public place but…” By this point I was grinning like the cat that had just been dumped in a dairy and been told I had to have fresh, double cream every day for the rest of my life. “And the second thing?” I prompted. “You’re not worried? It doesn’t shock you?” I pointed at my rock hard cock pressed firmly up against my flat belly. “Ask him and kindly explain to him why you’ve been hiding from us all my life.” Without taking her eyes off me she somehow drained her mug, wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, slide out of her seat and got between my parted knees. Robyn glanced down. Her mouth split in a wide, filthy grin and her eyes sparkled with delight. “Shit! That’s big.” She tried to lift it away from my belly and found it difficult. “Fuck! That’s hard!” “But it’s still not 10 inches,” I replied chuckling at her delight. “You sure? I’ve got a 10 inch dildo at home and it looks very similar to your cock in every respect except colour. Got a me