Ring My Bell ... Often

"I want to see it," Jason said, as soon as we were back in the car. I looked out the window at downtown Annapolis. Anyone walking by would have had to bend over to see in the window. I lifted my skirt. Nestled among my black stockings and garter belt there it was, a shiny gold bell dangling from the membrane against the helmet of my tgirl clitty. We were both entranced, but I just smiled.

It was new and Jason would be the first to dangle it so to speak.
The tiny metal bell hung from a ring and trembled at the tip of the longest protrusion of my skin, the perfect dangle from my clitty or cock as men call it.

Jason stretched out a hand, hovered near. "Does it hurt?" he asked. It did. It ached. My whole clit ached, like it does when I've been aroused too long without satisfaction, ached like anything swollen will after a while. Jason lowered his hand, not touching the ring or the bell, just cupping his hand to hold heat over my 7” clit. He grinned at me. "Maybe I can make it feel better."
It was late spring. We were driving fast in Jason's sporty little car with the windows down and the radio on. Jason kept his hand in my lap whenever he wasn't shifting gears. I kissed his neck. He squeezed my leg. My clitty throbbed.

Jason's fingers brushed against the slippery skin. "I'm going to stop at this World War II rest area, it’s just across the Old Severn River Bridge, " he said. He swerved towards the entrance. There was a squeal of tires as he hit the brake hard, spinning the wheel like a racecar driver and sliding us sideways to a stop perfectly between the painted lines. I didn't know he could do such a thing. Neither of us stopped to think about it. We just slammed our doors and moved out onto the rest-area lawn, down the hill towards the River.

It was early afternoon. There were a couple families at picnic tables. A few more fishing off the old bridge that is now use as a fishing pier. There was an older woman being pulled here and there by a very distractible dog. And there was Jason and me lying in the grass, making out like it was our last hour on earth. Jason's hand was under my skirt, pulling on that fascinating little bit of metal. The clinging sound fascinated him. My fingers were curled into his shoulder, leaving marks that would last for days. He rolled half on top of me grinding into me. "I want to fuck you," Jason groaned in my ear, and I nearly pulled down his zipper then and there. I want his cock and wanted him to ring my bell.

But not here… too many people! "We will get arrested," he said.

"I know," I said. "But then again, we got away with that blow job in the airport parking lot."

"True," he answered. "And the restaurant restroom."

"No, someone walked in on us that time."

"Yeah, but we didn't get arrested." We both sighed. We couldn’t go to his place… or could we?

We looked at each and sprinted to his car.