On to the mall. Fred drops us at the main entrance and I tell him he’s free for the next four hours, provided the bus and plunder from the first stop is kept safe. He says, “I’ll drive to our local office and have lunch there with my wife, Betty, she’s the receptionist.” I’ve his beeper and can call when we’re ready to go.The MallEntering the mall we go for lunch at the food court. The main topic of conversation is the first shopping stop. The girls chat rather loudly, and I notice quite a few people, both genders, who’re taking time over their meals as they listen in. Men seated near my beauties have trouble when they leave, as crotch adjusting is a bad disease today. I notice one young fellow staring at and drooling over Sarai. I point him out to her. As she looks over at him I say he seems to have a real problem with his clothes, especially in the crotch. She grins, and asks permission to help him. I agree. She goes over and speaks to him, to get his name and number. She leans over. She thanked me for forgiving her for needing his Big Dick and for accepting my new role. When she called she got a recording saying that there was a problem with the line. She showered and dressed, telling me she would stop over at his house and talk to him on her way shopping. I kissed her on the cheek as she headed for the door. I changed clothes and went to my office. I cleaned up the projector and the entire alibi creating evidence and sat at my desk for about twenty minutes. As I left I waved at the guy across the street and he smiled and waved back. When I got home my wife’s car was parked at an odd angle in the driveway. I parked behind her and went into the house. I could hear her crying in our bedroom. She was face down on our bed when I entered. ‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ She kept crying. I asked again, ‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ ‘He’s dead! I told that man not to smoke in his house but he did it anyway and there was a gas leak.’ ‘Are you sure he’s dead? Maybe the house just caught.
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