With the first pump, her clit was pulled into it. Her body jerked. It was saying, “Yes, please more!”A couple more pumps. The vacuum sucked her cl...t in further. Deep. “Yes, again,” Jessie begged with a grunt.Once more. That was it. The cylinder was ready to come off. The clit clamp was ready to go on. Jessie waited in want.The clamp slid over her plump erect clitoris. As it closed around it, Jessie flinched. Now her clit matched her nipples. Red with blood. Stiff with reserve.It felt good to. Gay? He snorted. What did the dresser have to be happy about? AIDS?But the boy stood there staring and the manager wondered if he should go over and say something. That particular mannequin had been dressed today in a silken ecru blouse, with a short, short skirt of woolen tweed in navy, with green and red plaiding stripes. She wore bone colored pumps and clutched a vinyl ecru purse to her plaster bosom. Her wig today was that hideous shade of red that no real person ever had.The manager. More

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