After a couple of days, one of my friend who is working for an NGO gave me a list of questions for a survey on “Sexual Life after Marriage”. I was...in doubt regarding whom to ask such personal set of questions. I then decided to approach Reema aunty.The next day afternoon, i went to her flat and rang the bell. The moment she opened the door, i had a boner and somehow i was controlling it. She was wearing a tight white top and blue jeans. Her boobs were fighting to come out of the top. I would. I loosened myself , and went to pee. When I returned , she invited me again .No … it was my turn, I told myself .I slept and pulled her into me.She smiled. I pulled her to my chest.She came over me. I held her well shaped waist and moved my hands to her hips.I gave a gentle slap. She shied.Her ears turned red.She hid her face in my chest.I moved my hands in her hip line and opened her legs.Then I pressed her chest against mine.She moved her hands back, pulled my hands , and removed the joints. It wasn’t worth worrying about now. It wouldn’t be the worst scandal ever seen in the White House. I touched Marilyn’s elbow and said, “Let’s go to bed.”“Will they be all right?”“I sure hope not. I hope they have major league hangovers, so they know enough not to get stupid like this again.”“You’re not a very loving father,” she commented, as we headed back to bed.“Just a very practical one.”I followed Marilyn down the hall, enjoying the sway of her rear under the thin silk of her robe. We had. Breathing heavily she rested her head in her hands. Slowly, a realisation came, she still wore the symbiote: its black skin-tight shiny layer covered her entire body still, up to her neck. Normally the symbiote melted away and burned up in the sun, hence its ruthless nightly prowl, but while attached to a host, while Maria wore it, it could survive the sunlight. The brunette slowly pulled herself up, groaning, as the signs of physical strain from last night began to show: both her ass and pussy.