DRIVING MISS DAISY – Part 2A

2017 school sex stories: DRIVING MISS DAISY – Part 2A

Fiction, Cheating, Consensual Sex, Group Sex, Romance, Threesome

Daisy betrays me and I take her for a ride before I find salvation

Daisy didn’t have to work, but was bored sitting at home every day. It might have been different if we had children, but we didn’t. After some research she decided on a career selling real estate. She completed the 75-hour licensing course and passed the exam in just a month. The real estate trade was flourishing in Suffolk County so she found a position with a nearby firm easily. I bought her a new Toyota SUV as a present once she had earned her license, knowing that she would have to transport clients throughout the area. Daisy seemed to love her work, especially the flexible hours. She was almost always home before me and she always had dinner ready by the time I returned from my office.

I was in my workshop after dinner one Monday evening working on several birdhouses when the phone rang. I let it go thinking that Daisy would get it upstairs. I did pick up after the third ring and was about to speak when I heard Daisy say, “Hi, Mom—I have to speak quietly because John is downstairs in the basement. You know he doesn’t want me to speak with you. Why didn’t you phone my cell like you usually do?” I immediately pressed the MUTE button and laid the phone on the table top as I listened to the conversation that would change my life.

Mom: Fuck him, Daisy. Who the hell does he think he is? I lost your number so I had to call you here.”

Daisy: Well, he’s going to be my husband, but he’s in for a few big surprises once he is.

Mom: Did you get the gift I sent you?

Daisy: I sure did although I couldn’t open it at work. What would my coworkers think if I pulled a stainless steel cock cage out of a box? I really liked that extra ring that’ll hold his balls locked up nice and tight and no lock, just those bolts with the letter ‘S.’ What will they think of next?

Mom: They’d probably look up to you as an empowered woman. Well…the women would. The men…let them fear you the way that asshole John will. He’ll be just like your wimp father. He’s worn one of those things for years. That’s one of the ways I use to control him other than beating his ass when he fucks up which is almost every day. Well, I do use his cock cage to shock the hell out of him several times a day, too. There’s nothing like burnt balls to make a man cower in fear. You’ll see.”

Daisy: I know, Mom. I remember the last time you beat him with his belt, too. I’m looking forward to doing that to John. I swear…the first time he screws up he’ll be over the arm of the couch with his pants at his ankles. How long has it been since my father last had an orgasm, anyway?

Mom: I’m not sure…three, maybe four years. I do milk him regularly, draining his semen into a wine glass for him to consume as soon as I release him. I have to keep him healthy–after all, I do need him to go to work, don’t I? How is the plan working?

Daisy: Hold on. I want to check on John. I wouldn’t want him to come up while we’re talking.” I heard her place the phone on the counter and walk over to the basement stairs. I was humming a song while sanding a roof for one of the birdhouses when she stepped halfway down. She continued a minute later. “Okay, Mom—he’s down in the basement working away on some stupid birdhouses. Just what I need—bird shit all over the laundry. Although, why should I worry? He’ll be doing the laundry and everything else once we’re married.

But, to answer your question—the plan is working great. He is so gullible. He believed all the bullshit I fed him when we were back in school. He thinks I’m his loving wife even though we’re not married yet. He burned the pre-nup when we got engaged. I’m letting him fuck me every night so he’ll be used to cumming often plus he trusts me now. I’ll just drug him and he’ll be locked up when he comes to. Of course, I’ll have to break him like you did with my sperm donor. I’ll have to beat him mercilessly, but he’ll break quickly. He’s no he-man. Then he’ll do anything I tell him to in the futile hope that I’ll let him cum. I’ll probably let him once every two weeks at first just so he’ll have that hope. But, every day? Like that’ll ever happen.

Mom: How is it going with your boss? How often are you fucking him now?

Daisy: Fantastic—I did him twice last week and came home to give John sloppy seconds. He ate me after I’d been with Greg. He really cums a lot—a regular Peter North–so I had to use a maxi-pad to keep it in. Wouldn’t want to deprive my hubby-to-be his special treat, would I?

Mom: No, of course not. That’s just what he deserves for treating me so badly. I can’t wait to beat him and make him eat my asshole. It’ll make what I do to my useless husband look like child’s play.

I’d heard enough. I hit the button on my phone to close the circuit and made a racket as I closed and locked the door to my sanctuary and started up the stairs. I heard Daisy say something quickly as I stepped into the kitchen. I looked at her, but she avoided my gaze. I told her I was filthy with sawdust and needed a shower. Then I turned and walked up the stairs.

Daisy was history, but first I needed some revenge, both on her and on her slimy boss. I’d met him a couple of times—most recently just about a week ago– and I hadn’t been impressed. Of course, he knew at the time that he was fucking my fiancée and I didn’t. What I did recall from our meeting was how much he loved his brand new BMW 7-series sedan. I had a plan to have some fun and revenge at their expense by the time I reached the top of the stairs.

As part of my graduate studies I had worked with a team to develop a computer-controlled robot. That’s what I had in mind now. Let’s face it, a car is only a bunch of computers with an engine and wheels. I could begin on my plan first thing tomorrow morning. Now all I had to do was avoid eating my girlfriend’s filthy cunt. I might take advantage of her bodily pleasures while I could because I probably wouldn’t see Daisy again once I was done with them.

I had finished my shower by the time Daisy had climbed the stairs. I gave her a questioning look and she smiled. “Oh damn, I wanted to shower with you. Just wait a few and I’ll be right back. She kissed me, but I turned my head so it landed on my cheek. She turned immediately, a worried look on her otherwise beautiful face. I kissed her lips this time and swatted her butt. “Oh…have something special in mind, sailor?”

“Ahoy, matey!” I swatted her butt again and jumped into bed.

Daisy rushed through her shower, intent on leading me even further into her trap. I’d had no idea when I’d met her or even now what an outstanding actress she was. What a fucking bitch! She was even worse than her mother.

Daisy slid into the bed a few minutes later first kissing me and then climbing over my body to “69.” After hearing that phone conversation there was no way I was putting my mouth on her boss-fucking cunt. In fact, I was going to be tested tomorrow right after I made my purchase. I made a mental note to phone Cara, my secretary, from the car to let her know that I would be late.

I played with her cunt with my fingers until she turned around to ask what was wrong. “I feel like I’m coming down with flu. I’m really congested and I feel a bit feverish. Would you mind if we took tonight off? Maybe I should sleep in the guest room. I don’t want to make you sick, too.”

“Oh, poor baby. Let me feel your forehead. Oh…you do feel a little hot. Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get up.”

“Thank you, darling, but you have to get up early for work tomorrow. I’ll send Cara a text that I’m not feeling well so I’ll probably be late. Sorry.”

“Oh…you’re too good to me.” She kissed my cheek and rolled over to sleep. I rose slowly and walked out the door thinking that truer words had never been spoken, especially by a lying cunt like you. Once in the guest room I pulled the comforter down and climbed under it. Unfortunately, I was unable to fall asleep for several hours. My mind was racing a mile a minute.

I was half asleep the following morning when Daisy slipped into the room and placed the back of her hand on my forehead. “I hope you’ll be okay, darling. I love you so much,” she whispered, confusing me even more. Why would she do that if she held me in the total contempt she had so clearly described to her mother? Yes, I was confused. I rarely acted on impulse, preferring to have as much information as possible before acting. That was what I needed now—more information.

I dressed as soon as I knew that Daisy had left for work. My first stop was an automotive supply store where I bought an automotive scanner—an electronic instrument that reads the data output from the assorted computers that controlled a car and its engine. I only wanted it for the multi-pronged plug that connected to the car’s computers. I knew from personal experience that such a port could also be used to feed the computers information and/or instructions.

Once in the office I accessed the internet looking for technical data on the BMW 7-series vehicles. I found it easily enough. It was in German. That was okay with me. My dad and both of my dad’s parents spoke German even though they were from Italy. My grandparents emigrated to the U.S. from an area in northern Italy near Bolzano. That area had been a part of Germany until after World War I when the territory was given to Italy as reparations. Even now residents of the area spoke German as their primary language. I knew that for a fact having accompanied my grandparents on a trip to their ancestral home way back when I was in junior high. I had grown up with my grandparents and had spoken German as well as English as a child. Then I had studied German both in high school and in college. I was fluent. Good thing, too—I needed proficiency in a second language to qualify for my PhD.

My grandfather’s name had been Gottesfreund, but when he passed through Ellis Island the immigration official took one look at his Italian passport and another at his Germanic name and cut it to what he thought was more appropriate—Gotti–and that’s what stuck.

I found the information I was looking for without too much trouble—where was the socket for the computer, what did each pin on the plug service, and what computer language had been programmed into the car’s firmware. Firmware is essentially software that is built into the computer’s motherboard. I’d need that to write my program—the one I would use to take control of asshole’s car. The more I thought about it the more fun I realized I was going to have.

I knew that I could write the program in a day or two, especially after accessing the records of the robotics study in the university’s database. All I needed was acceleration, steering and brakes, although maybe no brakes might be better. Unfortunately, I’d have no opportunity to test it—or would I? Maybe…just maybe I could. I thought I had it mostly done by the end of the day. Next I had to make my control panel. I’d do that tomorrow. I stopped off at WalMart on the way home and bought two phones from Tracfone with 60 minutes of talk time each. I thought that would be plenty especially with triple minutes for each card. I left them in my trunk where I knew they would be secure. Then I drove to Radio Shack where I bought some do-it-yourself electronics, again paying cash so there would be no record of the sale. Damn, I–thought–I forgot to get tested. Okay—tomorrow would be another day.

I managed to nurse my “flu” through the week and I wasn’t at all surprised when Daisy asked me if she could go out for a few drinks with her co-workers Friday afternoon and evening. “Go ahead,” I told her. “After this miserable week you deserve the chance to go out and have a good time. Just be ready to show me your appreciation when you get home. I’m sure I’ll be feeling a lot better by tomorrow night.”

I slept in our bed, but still no sex and we didn’t spoon the way we usually did. I faced away from Daisy instead. I was up early and, skipping breakfast, drove to MacArthur Airport in Islip where I parked my car and rented a pickup truck to use during the day. I wouldn’t want Daisy to recognize my car as I followed her.

Sure enough, she walked out the door arm in arm with her boss, slimy Greg Waterman at just after four that afternoon. I watched her kiss him once they were seated and a minute later I followed in my drab grey Ford truck.

I was wearing a ball cap and sunglasses along with a cheesy fake mustache as a disguise. It must have worked because I drove up right behind them and they never noticed. Of course, Daisy would have had trouble noticing anything with her face in Waterman’s lap. Even from thirty feet behind them I could see her head bobbing up and down. I also saw her wipe a droplet of what I thought was semen from her lips then lick it from her fingers. They stopped at a bar and I assumed that they would be inside for at least an hour. That would be all I would need.

Keyless entry for any automobile relies on radio transmission. All anyone who wanted entry to any car would have to do is duplicate the frequency of the key fob. I had learned the range of frequency from the German language technical data booklet I’d found online. A simple scanning transmitter required less than five minutes to open the door. I pressed the latch that opened the hood and threaded a short length of optic fiber cable past the radiator to the grille where I taped it into place. The other end I threaded through the fire wall between the engine compartment and the dashboard.

I connected it to the cell phone via a tiny motherboard that held the firmware I had created. The phone and firmware I had taped to several grouped wires to keep them from falling and being discovered. Both were connected to the computer socket which was, in turn, connected to all of the vehicle’s computers. My control would send what might be considered an electronic text message to the circuit board in the car.

The final step was a second fiber optic camera that faced into the cabin. With the two cameras I’d be able to see where they were going and everything that happened between Daisy and Waterman in the car. I was in the clear once I relocked the car doors. I had worn thin vinyl exam gloves like those used by surgeons and my old clothes would find their way to the Salvation Army later tonight. Paying cash for the items purchased meant there was no real way to trace them back to me.

I was back in my rented truck more than twenty minutes before they exited the bar. In that time I had been able to start the car and move it to another parking spot on the other side of the entrance–now for the fun to begin!

Daisy was anything but prudent when they walked out into the fading sunlight. She hung on Waterman’s arm and even leaned up to kiss him passionately as people walked by and I seethed silently only twenty feet away. My relationship with Daisy was dead—deader than dead! All I had to do now was bury it. I was amused when they looked for the car that wasn’t where they had left it. Other than the phone and cameras I’d left a little present for Waterman behind some maps in the door pocket.

Watching through the interior camera I saw Daisy take Waterman’s cock out of his pants. Even hard it was only half of what I had so I wondered what the big deal was. I followed them out of the parking lot, turning right heading eastbound on Route 25A toward Kings Park and the parkway to Commack where I knew there were a host of motels. I waited until they were on the highway before parking and turning on my remote control unit. There was no way I could drive two cars at the same time.

I held it in my lap, watching the car’s progress on my laptop as I used the joystick to drive erratically through Kings Park where there was only a single lane in each direction. It was funny watching their reactions as Waterman tried futilely to control the car. Neither the steering nor the accelerator nor the brakes worked for him. His attempts to push the gearshift lever into park were also useless. I had glanced at the forward camera just in time. Only a few hundred feet ahead of them was a Suffolk County Police car. I steered close enough to sideswipe the car then took off at high speed in an area where the limit was only thirty-five.

Waterman raced eastward with the cop right on his tail, siren blaring and blue and red lights flashing as he apparently paid no attention. Past Kings Park the road turned sharply to the right toward Smithtown. He was hitting seventy when he ran the light at the corner. I made him swerve around several cars, passing in an area marked with a double yellow line and a sign at the roadside that clearly said “NO PASSING.”

Suddenly, I pulled over and slowed down, stopping on the shoulder. I couldn’t see the cop, but I was sure that he was really pissed. I could hear him tell Waterman to lower the window when I pushed the joystick forward, leaving the cop standing there in obvious fury. Seconds later the race was on again.

I felt that I had done enough at this point. I didn’t want any innocent driver injured or killed so I pulled the car over once again and switched my console off, a huge smile on my face. Turning the truck on once again I drove to the airport and turned it back to the rental agency. If asked I could always justify renting it to transport several desks from a nearby Office Depot to my office. That was exactly what I had done earlier in the day. Now I drove to the office where I went to my desk to obliterate any evidence of the programs I had written from my desktop computer. Then I went out to dinner to plan ahead for my future as a single man.

When I was in the shared office suite we had a secretary and mail facility that each office shared. Running the mail room was a real responsibility, making sure that each office was properly billed for anything shipped from the suite. That service was manned by a young black man named Chester. I had seen some of the other business owners treat him badly, but I had always taken the time to speak to him and compliment him on the job he did. Chet and I became friendly and I took advantage of that friendship earlier in the week.

Chet lived in Roosevelt, a predominately black community, many of whom were poor. He had told me several times that he could score some drugs if I was interested. I wasn’t at the time, but I asked Chet to come through for me on Tuesday morning. We met on Wednesday for lunch—my treat—and I paid him handsomely for the favor. “Make sure to keep your fingerprints and DNA off the bottle, John.” I agreed as I took the paper bag from him and slid $3,500 across the table in exchange.

“Thanks, Chet—you’re a real friend. I’ll be careful–in fact I have a couple pair of exam gloves in my car. I can’t get her boss’s prints, but I can rub the bottle against the steering wheel so his DNA is on it. Enough of this, let’s enjoy our meal.” And we did, Chet telling me how much I had been missed. He also told me that his wife was pregnant with their first child. I wished him the very best of luck even as I felt terrible jealousy for the normalcy of his relationship.

I had dropped the plastic prescription bottle in the door bin after rubbing it vigorously into the plush leather steering wheel. No fingerprints, unfortunately, but plenty of DNA to incriminate the bastard. I had thought to frame Daisy with some cocaine, too, but I just couldn’t. I was dumping her for the second time and that was enough.

I returned to my home sometime around eight that evening, going immediately to the shower, seemingly to await the arrival of my spouse-to-be. I did try phoning her cell several times, but both calls went to voice mail. My first just asked where she was—I hadn’t expected her to be so late. The second was a lot more frantic. It was a Friday so I could have stayed up late. Instead, I fell asleep easily, making up for all of the sleep I’d missed out on during the week.

I woke up around nine and, not surprisingly, Daisy was nowhere to be found. I made coffee and sat in the living room to check on the weather and news, relaxing and thinking about making another call when the doorbell rang. There were three men in suits holding badges and police ID’s when I opened the door. I’m nothing if not thorough so I checked each ID carefully with each face then asked them to come in.

“I’m glad you’re here, detectives. My girlfriend supposedly went out with some co-workers last night and never came home. I suppose I should report it. Her name is Daisy O’Neill.”

“Um…you don’t seem to be too upset.”

“Well, if you heard your wife or girlfriend having the conversation with her mother that I heard Monday night you wouldn’t be too upset either. I went to visit her parents a year ago May and once we were back on campus I broke our engagement. Her mother treated her father like he was a servant or worse—like he was a slave. I looked into that poor man’s eyes and all I saw was a hollow shell of a man. As much as I loved her I wasn’t interested in that kind of future for myself. She begged me for another chance about two weeks later. I stupidly agreed with some conditions that she met–at least I thought she did until Monday night.

“I don’t have a recording of the call but I heard enough—drug me, tie me down and beat me into submission, lock my genitals into a monstrosity of a penis cage that I found last night in one of her drawers, and basically make my life a living hell. She thinks I burned our pre-nup, but the lawyer has the original, not that we’ll ever need it. I was just about to box up her things. She can leave with her personal belongings which won’t be too bad—new car, $30,000 diamond ring, about $10,000 in other jewelry, at least $5,000 in clothes and shoes, and whatever she managed to make selling real estate. So…gentlemen, why are you here?”

“We found your girlfriend with her boss. He hit a county patrol car in Kings Park then led the officer on a merry chase. He stopped once then took off when the officer approached the car. Funny! Ha ha! He finally stopped on the side of 25A where the road turns to meet 25 in Smithtown after nearly killing about a dozen motorists. He was arrested, but he claimed that the car was driving itself.”

“I’ve read about that, but from what I have read self-driving cars are supposed to be safe, not reckless.”

“Yeah, we’ve read about that, too. I’ve actually seen a demo. It was pretty neat. Anyway, it seems that Mr. Waterman was high as a kite—cocaine, as well as alcohol—and so was your girlfriend. We found a good-sized vial of what seems to be cocaine in his car and a plastic bag of what also looks like coke in your girlfriend’s purse. Of course, she told us that it was his.”

“Of course. That’s the kind of thing that happens in junior high school.”

“You’re right. I have two that age. I hear that all the time so Miss Daisy spent the night in the precinct. Boyfriend—boss, or whatever—he’s out in Riverhead in the County Jail. She told us you’re some kind of computer whiz. Mind looking at something for us? Our techs haven’t a clue. But, first–mind telling us where you were last night?” He held out the remote control I had built.

“Knowing that Daisy was going out I worked late then went out to eat at the Waterside. I think I have the receipt in my wallet.” I pulled it out and found the receipt almost immediately. After handing it to the detective, I took the object and looked it over. “Well, this is obviously a cell phone and this is a three-way port that would allow data to go either into or out of the phone. I don’t have the foggiest idea what this other thing is.”

“It’s a plug that connects into the car’s computers. That’s what the department’s mechanics tell us although this thing on the top was added.”

I pretended to examine it closer. “Hmmm…okay, I see. Can I take it apart?” I did once I had permission.

“Is that some kind of control device?”

“You mean software that could control the vehicle through the computers? Maybe, but if you look closely you can see that whatever was in here is burned up. I don’t think you’ll get anything from it. Mind if I look at it under a magnifier? I have one in my office.” They followed me into the small bedroom that was now my office. I turned on the desk lamp and looked closely under the glass. Then I showed it to the detective. “See these tiny lines? They’re some kind of circuit board…really small, but they’re all burned to a crisp. This is a computer chip, but you can see that it’s all melted. I’ve seen this before. Assuming this was built to control the car whoever built this designed it to work once and only once. What was in these other ports?”

“Some kind of what looks like really thin wire.” He held out a piece for me.

I took it into my hand and checked it under the glass. “It’s fiber optic cable. Lots of computer companies use it to transmit data. It’s faster and safer than a regular wire, but as it is I have no idea how it was used. It’s just a conductor with a USB plug on one end. Let’s say you had several offices in buildings around the county. The best way to connect them to a central server would be optic fiber like this except that would be insulated to protect it from the weather.” I handed everything back to the detective. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“No—thanks for your help. You coming to the precinct to pick her up?”

“No. I suspected she was going to cheat on me. I heard that on the phone call, too. It was over then, but I thought I’d fuck her a few more times before I kicked her to the curb. She can take a cab to her office or wherever her SUV is then she can pick her stuff up here. After that I don’t really care. I’ll have her stuff on the porch. The locks will be changed today. I’ll be lucky if I never see her again.

“You can tell her that she really blew it. I’ve been in business less than two years and I’m already a multi-millionaire. She could have had a life of luxury. She killed my love for her with that one conversation—her dastardly plans for me, her cheating. I would have done anything for her before that. Now I’ll do nothing. Tell her that, will you?”

“Yeah, we’ll tell her.” He reached out to shake my hand then turned and the detectives walked away—out of the house and out of my life.

I had all of Daisy’s stuff on the porch by the end of the day. The locksmith had charged me double for immediate service. I paid him gladly, just as I paid the garage door guy to change the code. I changed the alarm code myself then I retired to what had been our room, lay back on the bed and cried my heart out. I was all cried out an hour later. I really had loved Daisy with all my mind, body, and soul. I thought at the time that I was now exactly like Daisy’s father. I used to be a man. Now…who knew?

I fell asleep there fully clothed until Daisy phoned collect Sunday morning. “John, you have to come and bail me out. This is a terrible mistake. Please, I’m at the precinct. I need your help.” I was silent for more than a minute until she continued, “John? John?”

“I suppose we have to speak sometime and now is as good as any other. We’re done, Daisy…finished.”

“But, why? I love you. We love each other.”

“Well, to start with there was the conversation you had with your mother Monday evening. I forgot to mention that I installed a phone in my workshop. I heard all of your plans for me. I’d have to be an idiot to allow that to happen. You know what a memory I have.” I spent the next five minutes repeating everything word for word, hearing Daisy gasp several times. “I found that ‘object’ your mother kindly provided for you to use on me—stainless steel…durable as well as decorative, if you’ll pardon my sarcasm. Unfortunately, it had a terminal accident between my anvil and sledge hammer. You’ll find it in one of the boxes on the front porch right under a check for your earnings. I hope it was for real estate sales and not for fucking your boss.”

“John, please don’t believe anything in that conversation. I have to act that way or my mother won’t talk to me.”

“Would that be so bad? She helped to fuck us up once before and now she’s done it again. If you didn’t mean anything in that conversation why didn’t you mention it to me? Why didn’t you show me that contraption so we could destroy it together? And don’t tell me you didn’t have sex with your boss. I saw you leave your office. I was there in the parking lot when you kissed him and I followed you to the bar. Even in the truck I was driving I could see your head bobbing up and down and I saw you wipe a dollop of semen from your lips. We’re done. I’ve put all of your stuff in boxes on the porch. Pick up your shit and go. You’ve had a profitable year—new car, expensive diamond ring, jewelry, clothes—probably coming to more than a hundred grand. It would have been more if we had been married, even with the pre-nup.”

“We burned that.”

“We burned our copies. The lawyer has the original. I’m not an idiot, you know.”

I could hear the regret in her voice as she spoke, “So…there’s no chance for us?”

“No…none. Goodbye, Daisy—I don’t want to see you again…not even once. If I do I’ll pursue a restraining order. Why don’t you go home to mommy dearest?” I ended the call thinking that I had really dodged a bullet, but where was I going to find a replacement? My skills with women were still nothing to brag about.

I spent a quiet Sunday lolling around the house and thinking that I should get a boat. At least then I could go fishing, something I hadn’t done since I was a teenager. Yes—I could easily afford a boat and maybe even a membership at the yacht club down by the harbor. I could certainly take a look at some during the many spare weekend hours ahead.

I went to work early Monday morning and every morning for the next month, staying late because I really had no life other than my work. I must confess that I was less than cordial to my employees. Okay, I was a real grouch. Then on Monday morning exactly four weeks later I was in my office well before my secretary, Cara, arrived at 9:00. She looked in, shook her head, and disappeared, returning five minutes later with two cups of coffee, closing the door as she brought them to my desk. “Okay, John, I’ve worked with you for almost two years and I’ve never seen you act like this before. Something’s up with you. What is it? You’ve been a different person for the past month.”

I took a deep breath before speaking. “I broke up with Daisy. I had no choice.” Then I explained about the phone call with her mother.

I could tell that Cara was pissed. “That fucking bitch!”

“I’ve had a few dozen similar thoughts over the past month, but I sort of got even that first Friday night.”

“Oh?”

——————-

Parent Post: DRIVING MISS DAISY – by senorlongo

• DRIVING MISS DAISY - Part 1B
• DRIVING MISS DAISY - Part 2A
• DRIVING MISS DAISY - Part 2B