Desi Erotic Teen- Part 5

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'I gathered the kids together, making sure we had all the sunglasses and hats that we'd arrived with, and began the walk home. I know it was wrong, and I'm not proud of the feelings I was having, with a loving wife and family, but I couldn't wait until Monday morning when I would see Helen again.The rest of the weekend passed by without incident and when the alarm sounded on Monday, I almost bounded out of bed and into the shower. I arrived at the station earlier than usual, and could have caught an earlier train, but I chose not to. I stood at my usual spot absent mindedly reading the morning paper when I felt her standing beside me. I turned and was greeted with that large smile once again. We managed to find two seats together on the train and chatted about this and that for the twenty-five minute journey. It all seemed so natural, the conversation flowed nicely. The train came into the noisy crowded station and we left the train heading for the tube. It eventually came to parting. "How are you tonight, sweetie?" There was a definite glint in her eye. "I'm getting hungrier by the minute,” I replied, grinning. Let me tell you, that was no lie. She looked fucking delicious and the longer I spent gazing over her cleavage the hungrier I got. Eventually, I got around to noticing the sleigh-shaped name tag with 'Betty' drawn across it in more of the same green glitter. "Nice to meet you, Betty. I just love your outfit."I was smirking terribly and Betty flushed happily back at me. "Thank you, babe. What's your name, or should I just call you Santa?" Oh, Christ no, I'm Bob," I said, trying my best to sound cool. Believe me, that wasn't easy. It's hard to make 'Bob' sound like a cool name. To my relief, Betty seemed to think it was, or maybe she was just being nice. "You do seem to have an appetite, Bob. What would you like?" Tearing my eyes away from her tag, I saw a playful smile gracing her face. It was just a hunch, but she was either very proud of her crafty work,.
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Your mom is almost family -- she will be family.”Kara put her hand on his knee. “Thanks. It will mean a lot to Mom.”“You’re doing very well with the stick,” he said.“Thank you ... I do like this car, Adam. I could get used to this. The Buick really isn’t my style.”“Then, why did you buy it?”“I didn’t. It was my dad’s.”“What does your mother drive?” he asked.“Mom doesn’t drive.”“How does she get around, out in the suburbs?”‘‘Well -- I drove her places until I moved out. Her church has a community center that runs something called the Senior Taxi service. They keep a list of seniors who volunteer rides to other seniors.”“Sort of like a private-label Uber,” he remarked.“Sort of, except the rides are free, but only around town. Mom also has groceries delivered. She manages. I tried to get her to apply for a learner’s permit, but she says she’s too old for that. Once in a while she calls me for a ride, but she doesn’t like riding in the Buick. It reminds her of Dad. The Buick’s a good car.

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