It may be packaged in a psuedo new age purple box and endorsed by Dr. Laura Berman. It may be named after a Roman/Greek goddess. It may be made of somewhat hygienic TPR. It may take four AAA batteries and have serious power in comparison to most cock rings. It may even have heart-shaped buttons on the control pack.
But it fucking hurts. It hurts both of us. It pulls on my boyfriend’s pubic hair. It jams into his stomach when I ride him. It grinds into my clit in missionary — hard. And we aren’t even very rough. The fleeting stimulation I can get from this cock ring does not make up for pain.
I’m tired of stupid-looking cock rings. I’m tired of cords. Hell, I’m tired of batteries. I’m sticking with Bo.
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