I was grinding against her, but that wasn't enough. She lifted her leg into me, bringing me dangerously close to a premature explosion. Curling her fingers underneath my shirt, she lifted and pulled it off.
"So," I grinned, "That's how you want it, is it?"
She moaned. I kissed down her neck and helped her finish what she had started. Soon, no clothing could be found on either of us and we both seemed to like it that way.
Moving my way down her neck, chest, and stomach, I reached her holiest of holies, and what a hole it was. Ripe and ready, I prepared myself for a deliciously sensual snack.
As I moved in for the kill, I noticed that a tiny, horseshoe-curved, golden bar punctuated her center of ecstasy with a little ball on either end--she had a clit ring.
"You have a clit ring," I whispered excitedly.
She picked her head up and looked down at me. "Be gentle, but play around with it."
Not being one to disappoint a lady, I went to work--pushing it up, pushing it down, pushing it all around.
She yelped, slammed her hands on the bed, and gripped it viciously. I pulled away. "What's wrong?"
She growled. "What're you doing? Don't stop!"
"Yes, ma'am."
A clit ring truly seems to cause an increase in stimulation. Never have I heard someone yell with such enthusiasm and joy during a sexual act. Her head thrashed around, her back arched, and her legs tensed. I thought she'd orgasm at least fifty times before the night was over.
That was, of course, until the unimaginable happened.
"Uh, waip--" I began.
"Huh? What the hell's the problem?"
"My woung--my woung ich kaup ih yor wing."
"Your tongue--your tongue is caught--where?"
Having twisted my tongue through her ring, I had pushed it in much too far to easily pull out.
She sat up. I yelled, "Woh! Woh! Wep me kwist awoun."
"What? I can't understand you!"
"Ah haff to kwist awoun."
I began twisting around so that my tongue would at least be oriented the right way. She pounded her hands on my lower back. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I don't want your ass in my face!"
Suddenly incensed, I yanked her ring lightly with my tongue. She jumped. "Ow! What the hell are you doing down there? Get back to where you were before. Let me see."
"Ah tink dat we shou--"
"Twist back around, damn it!"
Slowly, I placed myself back into the first position. She sat up slowly, looked down, and groaned. "How the hell did you do that? What were you thinking?"
"Ah tink yuh shud starr bing nas to me."
"I am being nice to you, now get the f*ck out of my ring."
I pulled it again, and again she yelled. "Ow! F*ck, what the hell are you doing?! I should've known that this would be a disaster. What were you thinking?"
"Waip! Ah haff ang idea."
"Well, now's the time if you have an idea."
I put one hand just above her nether regions and pressed down while I lightly rocked my tongue back and forth, hoping to free a little of it at a time.
A little less than half of it was out when she spoke again. "What are you doing? That feels weird. Stop it."
"Am almost owp."
"You're almost out? Well, keep going but stop doing whatever you were doing. It felt funny."
Deciding to ignore her, I continued to pull out gently, sliding back and forth to lubricate my escape. It was working, and I imagined myself free from the vagina of doom.
She slapped the back of my head. "What the hell are you doing? That sh*t feels funny, now cut it out!"
If there's one thing I hate more than being stuck in a clit ring, it's being stuck in a sadistic b*tch's clit ring. All I wanted was to escape, go home, turn on Cartoon Network, and have some hot chocolate.
Pausing for a moment to collect my thoughts, I settled gingerly into a more comfortable position. She whined, "I just want you out of there. That's all. You can't just get out? Just get out!"
She hopped onto her knees and pulled away as hard as she could.
The moral: Make sure that whomever does your clitoral piercing does it well enough to prevent certain things from tearing, certain people from being brought to the hospital, and certain relationships from ending as a result.
