Mattie’s Last Ticket
She slumped against the back seat of the car, sweat staining her skimpy tee-shirt, drool from her mouth packing dropping like fine fish line down her chest. I slapped one of the soft mounds that was the gauze packing over her newly pierced nipple and she arched her back – my buddy at the piercing and tattoo shop had bought the line about this being her idea and not to worry about the gag and ropes, just do her tits and her labia and there’s an extra 100 for him. ...