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So I got one hundred size large T-shirts made up that read, “Women Gone Wild” “NASCAR” “Las Vegas.” I put them in the back of my rented van along with two big coolers full of beer and ice.I was planning on being there for the whole week as they tuned up their cars, test drove them, and then ran some preliminary races before the final event.I sat in my lawn chair at the rear of my van and just started asking older women if they would show me their tits for a nice cold beer while I filmed them. I got a couple of takers but when I asked to see their pussies for a T-shirt, they refused. I thought that I had just wasted all of that money that I had spent on a flight, hotel, and those T-shirts.Then I had my first. She identified herself as Connie R age fifty-two. Then she lifted her top and showed me a rather nice set of tits as I filmed her. She was not in any hurry to put them away, even when a few people stopped to watch. Then she looked around and dropped her shorts and panties to her. She brushed my hair back from my face and let her hands linger on the top of my head, as if trying to push some sense in there, or perhaps it was just love? She cleaned and massaged my face, using long, slow strokes, as if trying to smooth away all my troubles. And when she sent me off to my class, she hugged me close and kissed my cheek before turning away quickly to hide the tears that I still managed to see. I went to class, but didn’t look up at Josh or shake his hand as I entered. I tried to participate as much as possible, but a breathing exercise where you were supposed to find your ‘happy place’ and from that place try to face your fears, felt hilariously unfitting. I looked up quickly at the end of class and saw Josh throwing questioning looks my way, but I didn’t want to face another worried person and more questions, so I walked out of there as quickly as possible. I heard him call out to me, but just kept walking, hoping he would be stopped by one or more of the women in.