A woman came home, screeching her car into the driveway, and ran into the house. She slammed the door and shouted at the top of her lungs, 'Honey, pac... your bags. I won the lottery!' The husband said, 'Oh my God! What should I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?' 'Doesn't matter, ' she said. 'Just get out.'Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other is a husband.A Polish immigrant went to the DMV to apply for a driver's license. First, of course, he had to. Phir mere lips par kiss karne laga kiss karte samay usne mere boobs dabane ko chalu kiya or. Phir achank uska haat niche leke gaya or meri panty main dal diya or mere lips kiss karte karte mere muh main usne apni toung ghumane laga or pagal ho kar kiss karta raha. Phir muje khadi karke meri nighty nikal kar fake di ab main sirf black bra & panty main hi uske samne khadi thi or usne uske sare kapde nikal de or muje uthakar bed par sula diya or mere upar aakar mere pure bandan par kiss karne laga. All it needed was some decorations to complete it.From the saloon, I took Molly over to Pritchett’s Mercantile, so she could see what he had in the line of accessories for my office. Turns out he had quite a few things she thought I’d need. Pritchett’s mercantile was well stocked, as the arrival of the railroad meant even luxury items from back east were available. Molly picked up some heavy brocade fabric for curtains and to cover my drop-leaf table, and a few knick-knacks to make the office. His hand slid under the seam of my shorts, seeking, questing.My own hand was busy at the juncture of his t-shirt and sweatpants. My fingers slid over the waistband to twine in the thick treasure trail that grew around his navel.It was dark and the park closed in about an hour. We had to be circumspect. We could be seen from the road but the adjacent street light was out, casting us into shadows. We were visible but indistinguishable to the cars driving past.I started to follow the furry river.