They started touching each other casually while talking. Raj had a good sense of humor and was making mom laugh a lot. And she would lean over while laughing and keep her hand on his shoulder and chest. Because of this leaning and touching, mom’s pallu dropped off her chest, once again revealing a generous cleavage. Raj once again started staring.Mom- “lo fir shuru ho gaye. Itna acha laga??”Raj gave a nervous chuckle and said- “haan, acha to hain!”Mom- “kaho to aur pass se dikhau?”. saying this, mom moved closer to him and dropped the remaining pallu down to her lap. Her boobs were now pressing against his shoulders. Raj then shifted a little and placed his left hand on mom’s boob. He started to press it gently from over her blouse. Mom quickly held his hand but did not push it away. She said- “uff! Ye kya kar rahe ho? Main to mazak kar rahi thi!!”. but Raj kept squeezing it slowly and gently.He said- “main to bas theek se dekh raha hun!”.Mom- “nahi na! plz!”. But she was not even. He got them and we made ready as the Chevelle kept on coming—we were doing 60mph and he was still doing between 80 and 90 miles per hour. Jim and I waited to spring our happy little trap. He got to within 100 yards, at the closing speed—about 140+ miles per hour—he’d go by us in mere seconds. We sprang our trap. Jim reached out the right-front door with Mom’s big red mixing bowl and held it on the roof with his hand. Meanwhile, I thrust Dad’s big gun-shaped timing light out the driver’s window and pointed it at the Chevelle. Our front bumpers were just fifty feet apart when we saw him flick his eyes toward us. Those eyes got big as flywheels when he saw what he presumed to be a red Starsky-and-Hutch —style revolving light on the roof of a car that had a radar gun pointed at him. His little brain could only think one thought at the moment— ‘COPS!!!’ Just as his car flashed past us, he dynamited his brakes. The front wheels locked up and those undersized tires I mentioned screamed on.
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