She was 30, 5’5”, slim and fair. Unlike high society ladies of Delhi, she wore a salwar suit and had a braid that almost touched her hip. She said... “You don’t have to call me mom, you can just call me Rashmi ji.”I was thinking how and why? She’s quite a beauty and dad is 20 years older than her. Still, I moved on, settled in my old room upstairs. I started partying with my friends. It was over 2 months before we saw each other again. As I woke up from my hangover from Friday night, Rashmi was. Steven realised it was Sunday and whatever it was these two kinky women had got planned, they'd got all day to do it!"Well are you going to be a gentleman and open the door for us?"He smiled and rubbed his crotch through the skimpy shorts as Wendy climbed rather unladylike into the back seat, legs falling wide apart and completely naked beneath her tiny mini skirt."No panties Wendy" he commented, "Just a gorgeously wet pussy, ready for action!"She smiled sweetly up at him and closed her. Angie on the other hand is a pretty well-known slut that has a reputation for fucking both men and women so she was all over the thought of fucking Sandra. She had wanted that from the first day they had met.The girls got together a few times after that in privacy and explored each other’s bodies but never really got down to a hot woman on woman romp.Their lives both took a turn for the worse and they both ended up alone trying to meet the monthly bills. Angie took on a second job to try to. And a couple of macroeconomists putting together the Davos agenda.For some odd reason, Fowler Crescent reminded me of the Corleone homes on Long Island. Rumor has it that Puzo based the residential setup on a Kansas City mob family. I, for one, chose to believe it.I sat up front the first couple of times the Hakleford cousins and I followed Mr. November on his late night journey from 6th Avenue to Fowler Crescent. Less conspicuous. Then I reverted to my backseat position. Town Cars — the.