White didn't attack him as she had done the previous week. She was very flirty however, and they headed up to bed soon after dinner was over. I couldn...t help myself, and I once again snuck into the sitting room.By the time I got there, they were already going at it. Mrs. White was once again on the bed, and Mr. White was on top, pumping his cock into her pussy. Given the squelching noises cumming from her pussy, Mrs. White was clearly enjoying herself."Hold me down," I heard Mrs. White say in a. "You will. Sit down." I nodded my head toward a chair, and she sat down. "I need to look these over a few minutes."She sat down, looking puzzled and a little pouty at not being told what was going on, and I began to examine her course work. The courses were American Literature (a survey) and Ancient History; fortunately, I knew quite a bit about both. She was failing both courses, but neither one too badly; it would not take too much to bring her grades up to passing ones.She apparently had one. It was her idea. She said, "I know you have some kind of a plan." We understood - for appearances sake - publicly she would be an unwed single mother. I was not happy about that but for now that seemed the best.I also found out that the pump-up dildos were only good for about four months with the use we started giving them. They blew apart while in use. Luckily the first time it happened I was the one that had it inside me.It took the girls two hours to get the base section out of me. That. That kind of skull fracture is what killed that NASCAR driver a couple of years ago.”I frowned grimly, “J. D. McDuffie.”“And a couple of Indy drivers in the past, if memory serves. I think one was Vukovich, but I’m not sure.”“That sounds right,” I said. “Bill Vukovich died at Indianapolis in the 50s. There was another one, too, Tony Bettenhausen, a few years later. I remember reading about them when Winston Cup Scene ran an article about J. D. McDuffie. How does that happen? The article talked.