Okay, it was third-hand gossip. Jill told Steve Banyon who told Joey who told me. Fourth-hand.Mingo time. Mingo Bernard Cochran, to be precise.If Bull...og Bannerman is a fixer, Mingo is a tinkerer. Or tinker.A tinker in the sense of a roaming handyman. He’s sort of like the Romani, he travels the greater Kansas City area in a battered VW Bus, repairing lawn mowers, clocks, watches, toasters. And looking to steal anything that doesn’t have someone watching it closely.Mingo also tinkers with. As she rubbed the lotion onto her pussy, I noticed her hips were gently moving to match her hand strokes. This is when I realized a strain in my pants. My dick was as hard as it ever was. I started to rub my dick through my pants.Dawn stopped rubbing herself and went to the bedroom door and locked it. She walked to her bed and laid down. She laid atop the covers and her hair spread across the pillow. My little angel looked so tempting. She moved her hand to her pussy and began to rub it.. When I finally crawled out of bed and wandered out of my bedroom she was already up. Not only that, she was making breakfast. I smelled bacon. It smelled damn good, though anything would have smelled good at that point. Also, there was coffee, which I badly needed, being slightly hungover. Not hungover enough not to notice how good she looked in one of my plaid shirts – she must have borrowed it while I was still out cold - and little, if anything, more. I couldn’t tell, though it was short. Before she could accept it, I nuzzled her head aside and descended onto her neck. I was her predator and she was my feast, I was going to devour her. I worked my way from her neck to her chest kissing and nipping. Down to her waist and between her thighs. As I was about to begin my deed, I looked into her eyes and saw that they were begging. I teased and toyed with her, tongue exploring and knowing full well where the clit was. I just wanted to see her wriggle and strain in frustration. Her.