She nonetheless moved forward and our lips met. It was very pleasurable and soon our pecking turned into French kissing. I said, “Would you like to ...ontinue this ‘discussion’ at one of our apartments?” “Well, I feel I’m Marianne to your Willoughby,” cleverly referencing a couple from Sense and Sensibility, “but, yes, I would like to continue this ‘oral interlude’ at my abode.” Smiling (and rock hard from her pun) I retorted, “Are you using the term ‘oral interlude’ in a 19th or 20th Century. Pam came in and I put on the kettle for sometea. We started talking about everything, our moms and families, all theold friends that we have seen and who has kids and all the gossip wecould muster. Pam started to tell me about her husband Dell. She startedout light but the more she told the more she described him as somethingof a shit. He made good money so he was very much against her working.She said that he has no respect for her and she had caught him in anaffair about a year earlier. Then. More

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