Honest. Some of the meals I’d eaten at the Szymanski house, when they’d invited an eligible lady along for me to meet, had been rather more formal...and stilted, their purpose a little too obvious for comfort. Now that I’d found my own lady, the pressure was off, and we could all open up. The subject of Mel’s past was simply accepted; she told a couple of funny stories about events on set – she’d once done a scene where she’d gone for a massage and been seduced by the masseur, and they’d broken. We spent the next 30 minutes French kissing and caressing each other and then ended up giggling and teasing the other, it was wonderful being home with someone you really loved. Formalities aside, we were now hot and ready to get down to some serious love making and as I can attest to this fact, Mr. Woody Woodpecker was up to the task at hand (no pun intended). It was just after entering the tight sheath of my wife’s tight pussy that we both noticed something was different or should. More

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