'"Now get out of my way you big fat tub of lard," continued Tracey, "I have to ring for a taxi." She tried to push me out of the way. "And don't think...of offering me a lift I wouldn't go with you if my life depended on it."I knew that was the signal. "It does Tracey, believe me it does."One short jab with my right fist connected flush on the jaw. She collapsed into my arms and though she was a dead weight I had no trouble lifting her up and dumping her into the back of my panel van. There was a. The grey man was still there, sitting on one of the chairs and still writing."Mrs. Brocken," he said, looking up and then focusing deliberately on my face. "My condolences on the loss of your husband. I need just two signatures and I, uh ... I'll be done."He seemed embarrassed and apologetic and I didn't understand much of what he was saying."Sit down, Dare. Sit here." Joe was guiding me to an empty chair, but I frowned at him, growling softly before I could stop myself. I wasn't going to sit. I just watched as her hand started moving faster and faster in and out of her pussy, which was, unfortunately, covered by the end of the nightgown. Her forehead was a bit moist from sweat, and she moaned silently. I couldn’t get enough of the view. My friend’s mom, masturbating right in front of me. I wanted to stroke my cock, but I didn’t dare. Her hand moved faster and faster, until she lifted her hips up, climaxing, which caused the nightgown to slip down to her stomach, revealing her. As I approached the center of the district, they became damn gorgeous, beautiful enough to be models. I had read that most of the ladies there were not Dutch, and, indeed, some were obviously of distant nationalities, mainly Indians with their tawny skin and beautiful nipples. I passed around the area several times, mentally marking my choices for the evening’s delight. I didn’t really have a particular appearance I was looking for, in fact, of all the ladies I visited it seems that they were.