A flying saucer descends upon earth and a number of friendly Martians disembark. …
…. ….
After the Martians are able to understand English, a number of couples gather at a party. …

A Martian couple and an Earthling couple meet and talk about all sorts of things. …

Eventually, the subject of sеx comes up. …

“Just how do you guys do it?” asked one of the Earthlings. …

“Pretty much the way you do,” responded the Martian.
Discussion ensues and finally the couples decide to swap partners for the night and experience one another. The female Earthling and the male Martian go off to a bedroom where the Martian strips. He’s got only a teeny, weeny member; very short and very narrow.
“What can you do with THAT!?” exclaims the woman.
“Why?” he asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Well,” she replied, “it’s nowhere near long enough. It’ll never reach!”
“No problem,” he said and proceeded to slap his forehead with his palm. With each slap of his forehead, his member grew until it was quite impressively long.
“Well,” she said. “That’s quite impressive, but it’s still pretty narrow.”
“No problem,” he said again and started pulling his ears. With each pull his member grew wider and wider until the entire measurement was extremely exciting to the woman.
“Wow!” she exclaimed as they fell into bed and made mad, passionate love.
The next day the couples rejoined their normal partners and went off together.
As they walked along the Earthling male said, “Well, was it any good?”
“I hate to say it,” she said, “but it was really wonderful. How about you?”
“Well,” he said, “It was the weirdest thing. She kept slapping me on the forehead and pulling my ears all night.”
Two 90-year-old women, Bertha and Betty, had been friends all of their lives.
When it was clear that Bertha was dying, Betty visited her every day.
One day Betty said, “Bertha, we both loved playing softball all our lives, and we played all through high school. Please do me one favor: When you get to heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s women’s softball there.”
Bertha looked up at Betty from her deathbed and said, “Betty, you’ve been my best friend for many years. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do this favor for you.”
Shortly after that, Bertha passed on.
A few nights later, Betty was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, “Betty, Betty.”
“Who is it?” asked Betty, sitting up suddenly. “Who is it?”
“Betty - it’s me, Bertha.”
“You’re not Bertha. Bertha just died.”
“I’m telling you, it’s me, Bertha,” insisted the voice.
“Bertha! Where are you?”
“In heaven,” replied Bertha. “I have some really good news and a little bad news.”
“Tell me the good news first,” said Betty.
“The good news,” Bertha said, “is that there’s women’s softball in heaven. Better yet, all of our old buddies who died before me are here, too. Even better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always springtime and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play softball all we want, and we never get tired.”
“That’s fantastic,” said Betty. “It’s beyond my wildest dreams! So what’s the bad news?”
“You’re pitching Tuesday.”