I hand the driver his due, and as I step out of the taxi my flaming red hair billows around my face, blocking my eyes. Sounds… voices… whispers! C...ap! Of course, schools not over yet. I hate him for making me meet him all this kids here. They would point and whisper, but that isn’t even the part I can’t stand. I loathe their pity, I find their normal, healthy lives offending. Frustrated with my hair, I yank it out of my face and let it flutter in the wind behind me like a cape. My Eyes! It is. The car found its parking spot that had a reserved sign on it from the Montreal Police Department.The wait was nearly an hour but the same people came down and got into the limo. Flagging down a taxi was not easy until I flashed money. We got in quickly with the girls. Lauren got to sit up front and keep the driver interested.The driver asked in French where I was going. My high school French was never good so I said, "We're new to the city and want you to just drive for us. Go straight ahead,. She finished undressing me and then applied lube to my dick. She told me to lube up her asshole, so I did. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but it didn’t seem to be rocket science. Kathleen lay on her stomach and told me to enter her back door slowly. I did so, and tentatively probed where the sun don’t shine. “I said slowly, not a funeral march. Get on with it!” I picked up the pace a bit. That seemed to please her. An asshole is tighter than a pussy, so it was a bit difficult to keep. Hearing the sound, Dennis looked up. His mother's skirt was hiked halfway up her thighs, and her hand was doing something between her legs. At first he thought she was rearranging her panties, but that thought soon left his head when he saw the wet, glistening goo on his mother's stabbing fingers. He peeked around the corner of the passenger seat but could only see the side of her face. It was then that Dennis realized that his mother was staring at his crotch in the rear-view mirror. She.