She’s wearing a beautiful sun dress and sexy leather sandals. Her sun-kissed skin is full of tiny, sexy freckles wrapped around her golden tan. She ...looks damn gorgeous. She finally looks up and turns to me. “I can’t believe you came!” “It’s a two hour drive honey. Hell, I’d swim that far to see you!” My smile assures her that I’m not just blowing smoke. I really would. I don’t think either of us thought we’d ever meet but here we are. We are both struggling for breath and just the right words. Ms. Konstanty agreed, and asked if a restaurant on East Broad Street called East-West Bistro would be satisfactory. Not knowing anything about it, I accepted and agreed to meet her at 11:30 the next morning.Wanting to appear as old as possible under the circumstances, I dressed with care for the appointment with the realtor. After pulling on a pair of mocha slacks, I spent several minutes trying to chose the right shirt and ended up selecting a pale yellow pull-over that would go with my ivory. So young and sweet. Happy with her own long straight brown hair. Fluffing it now with her delicate fingers. Making herself pretty for Paul and for herself. The dog is prancing about the room, barking now and then, wanting to play. She ignores him, still rubbing lotion into her skin, preparing for her morning. Now she walks over to the daybed and picks up the small camisole she will be wearing around the house. When it is down over her head covering her conical titties she steps into her tight. I could really use one of these to bust up all of my wood to cure. I looked at the splitter for at least twenty minutes before a guy with bibbed overalls came up to me. "Think you can fix it? A couple of men said it would cost more to fix it than it's worth. I suppose I can sell it for scrap iron, but it just seems as if someone should be able to fix it." What is happening when you try to use it?"The man pointed to the dual hydraulic pistons and said, "When it's splitting the wood, fluid.