Pussy Wrapped
"You okay there?" Rich Borchers asked. "Yeah," Donald Wenk replied. He lifted his head back into the passenger seat. He'd left a small puddle of sick on the driveway. His stomach still felt greasy. "Nerves?" Rich asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah," Donald replied. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. "Are you really sure this is a good idea?" "We'll be fine," Rich replied. "Nothing to worry about." Nothing to worry about, Donald thought. They were about...