They’d talked so fluidly, opened up so much. She was so sharp and so natural. The more he thought about her, the more attracted he became. But doubt... crept in. They were so different. His father was an engineer, his mother a teacher, upper middle class city folk. Her deceased father had been a trackman for the railroad and her mother a factory worker, rural working class. And there was the color thing. He’d played sports and music with black guys, and had appreciated their prowess and bonded. “What? Catching them,” mom laughed along with Seema.“Yep,” Seema chimed in. Raju and Raj laughed.“It’s because beautiful women like you keep us so hyped,” I said, reaching up to pop his mother’s barely covered butt-cheeks. Seema and Raj looked at each other, surprised. “It’s what you like to see, right?” Rani said facing Raj.“Yes, ma’am,” Raj said.“Honey, don’t look at my tits and then call me ma’am,” mom chuckled. “You make me feel old. Call me Rani.”Seema and I laughed.“I told you my mom was. More

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