She had once worn it on a flight from LA to NYC. It had left a deep groove either side, the more she wore it the tighter she could tolerate it.
Clearly it would have been difficult to hear its tiny bell through her clothes. But now, as Jean-Claude lit his cigar, his fourth wife Barbra was on all fours, Barbra was grunting in a very unladylike way, begging, cursing in Austrian and shaking through one orgasm after another. The bell attached to her clitoris wouldn't stop ringing. Jean-Claude smiled widely at me as he reached under his wife and tickled the tip of her clamped and now engorged clitoris.
"...did you bring a tiny pump bulb small enough for her clit?" asked Jean- Claude.
