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Okay, it was more frustration than brilliance that led me there. I was nowhere on the Edwin Caruthers Foundation case.It was a Friday morning, not a race day. But there were crews working on stock cars, drivers doing practice laps, people watching. Car people I guess.The sun was out, my tan looked good, looked healthy. I’d left my bra at home, figuring car people are guys and guys are boob people. It’s one of the Tricks of the Trade. Page 256, you can look it up - use your boobs to get their attention.Blue Bermuda shorts that came pretty close to matching my eyes. Sleeveless top, bare midriff, white. Hey, if you got ‘em, flaunt ‘em. Plus, for some reason I was feeling pretty frisky this morning.My cover story - I thought I’d seen an old family friend out here racing a while back. Had to leave before the race ended. Anyone know Jim Woolsey?It took four tries, then a teenager bent over a Chevy engine, doing something with a wrench, kicked a guy in the boot. “Dad, someone to talk with. I could feel my mother tense and begin shuddering, the whimpering caught me slightly off guard but I carried on sure my mother would stop me if needs be. Then a flow of juices flooded out of her. I lapped them up quickly, and then felt my mother lift my head away from her pussy. She had a glazed smile on her face as she said, “That was good John. So very, very good.”She bent down and kissed me. Not the tender mother son kisses we’d had before but a passionate lip lock. I hadn’t been kissed before and I wasn’t sure what to do, I discovered it was a gently exploration of each other’s mouths, not fighting each other to see who could get who’s tongue furthest into the others mouth but a simple rolling of the tongues together, moving back and forth from each mouth. We settled back next to each other on the bed as we kissed. My dick placed itself firmly at my mothers’ stomach and demanded her attention, whilst my hands explored the whole of her body.Suddenly she broke away from.
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