With eyes still closed, Mavis caressed her firm titties and pinched the nipples. One thing, though, she frowned: Hank wasn't the robber who had raped ...er. She reviewed the situation quickly. And it hadn't been Willie Quentin. And she was positive it wasn't Dell Emerson. Who? Her quest for the man with the tantalizing growth--or wart--on the side of his penis might never be fulfilled. She could fuck all the Mormons and Catholics in Utah and still not find him! What a helluva way to try to help. It was becoming frustrating but the only saving grace was that I had nothing to do outside and with a stack of menus to order in, it was certain that I had no intention of going out in that heat.As I stared at the white screen with the taunting cursor blinking at me, I was startled out of my trance by the sound of my apartment intercom. I hit the talk button and asked, “Who is it?”I was greeted with an enthusiastic, “It’s Meeeee!!!”I buzzed the bell and then unlatched my front door and went. More

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