I made it out the door and across the street without anyone seeing me leave. That was a relief. Then all I had to do was walk the distance to the cafe...and sit down. I kept glancing around to see if anyone was looking. No one was. Next thing I knew I was nearing the cafe, and there was Raymond! He was early too. That gave me some comfort. “Hi Raymond!” “Hi Tracy, glad you could make it.” “Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t stand anyone up.” “That’s really nice of you. Can’t say that about everybody. "She knows she can trust you," she told me in slow measured words, "with the lives... of her children. You proved yourself worthy of that trust. This..." she tapped the card in my hand, "... is just plastic." Gee, you sure know how to fuck up a good time!" But I took her point. The card was beneath mentioning as far as Mom was concerned. She trusted me with far more important things than her money. That's why she had never bothered to tell me when she slipped it into my wallet. She just assumed. She was wearing her normal garden work outfit consisting of tight black stretch pants, and a white t-shirt cut just above her waste. Brad speculated that she was in her mid 40’s, but she looked much younger. She had long, straight jet-black hair that was in her usual pony tail as she hacked away with her garden tools. Her tight black pants revealed her thin figured body. Brad would wait for the moments in which she’d bend over and stick her tight, yet curved ass in the air for him to lust over.. ) Sheblushed and smiled at my words but did not say anything further.We finished our lunch and then we first neatly bundled those files which wewanted to preserve and kept these bundles away. We then resumed our verificationwork on racks.This time we stood very close to each other and did the work. So practically herballs and buttocks were in my eyes and manytimes my hands brushed her body. Sosoon I reached the height of my excitement. I started to purposely touch her hipor thighs. Though I was.