Cop 1: who is this?Shyam: It’s my personal slut sir.Cop 2: personal slut?Shyam: yes sir.Cop 2: then leave this slut to us and you may go away taking...your car.Shyam: sir please take this 1000 Rs and leave us.Cop 2: we can’t leave her. But you may go.Shyam: Sir take this another 1000 Rs. Do whatever you want with her but please leave her sir.Cop 1: that’s the deal.Cop 2: (seeing cop 1) you clear the vehicles and make sure that no one sees this. We don’t wanna get into any trouble.Cop 1:okay you. Only wait ... her brow furrowed. Didn't that mean... ?She grinned, imagining catching the dork red-handed. What was the phrase she was looking for, though? Was it French? Maybe it was in flagrante delicto after all. Sighing, she shrugged, thinking she'd write a paper on the subject the coming school year. The difference between...She drifted off to sleep.It was ten after four. What had awakened her, she wondered? Lifting her head, she gazed sleepily around the bedroom; spotting Bruno curled up. .. one dually Ford pickup ... gooseneck enclosed two car trailer ... tools ... rollaway tool box ... new tires every fucking week ... rally car usually uses three sets.” I ran out of fingers but kept going. “Firesuit, three helmets, shoes, gloves ... all that junk. Rented three bays in the old Gold Bug warehouse. Security for the shop.“Speaking of tools ... remember Dean Wilson?”“Yeah ... airplane mechanic ... he must be a hundred years old.”“He’s dead ... Abby bought his entire shop of. Diane secretly watched more of the interracial videos while her husband wasn't around. There was even one where the pretty blonde wife had a striking resemblance to herself. It took Diane breath away, her fingers working her pussy over frantically damn this all made her so horny! It was almost as if she was watching herself getting fucked by the big dick black janitor.That night, Bill couldn't believe his good luck! For the second time in as many nights, his wife practically attacked him in.