Jerry was already there as were a small group of onlookers. These things always attracted a small crowd. I rolled down my window as I pulled up my car...next to his. I signaled to a third party who acted as the race coordinator that I was ready. I could hear the rumble of the big block 409 engine through the dual exhaust pipes as I revved my engine."You don't have to do this." Debbie said in a pleading tone, her head resting on my lap.The race coordinator stood with his arms in the air about ten. Uh.. No.. Sir I know we can't... shouldn’t... I mean won't... being employee and employer and after last time... The talk we had about never again... And... I'm sorry I don’t mean to flirt so!" She stammered but he felt her eyes gazing in to her eyes and felt warmth spread throughout her body. His eyes traced from her eyeballs to her mouth and back, even daring to look at her ample bosom as it lay below him. He brought her back up and gave an exaggerated tug pulling her slightly closer into. My mom is one of those typical Indian women who always d****d themselves in the traditional saree and there is nothing better an Indian woman can wear.My mom was the average kind of woman..not too fat but not on the skinny side either.Her breasts were of 38D nice wide hips and long legs.Her wheatish skin was always a complement to her beauty along with her shoulder length straight black hair.She always wore that low cut blouses revealing her smooth skin at her back and her sarees were worn so. Her breasts were lovely and quite large. ‘A cousin?’ ‘She’s my father’s best friend’s only daughter,’ he answered and smiled when Charlotte nodded. His mistress had an intelligence he respected and it was nice to be able to carry a conversation without having to explain things to her. ‘I remember now,’ Charlotte said as he cupped her breast. His large hand were more than filled by her generous flesh. ‘A Lord Scott, Earl of Lindsay died five years ago. He was thrown from a horse. Was that her.