[Continued from "The Day of Fuck (Cock No. 2)."]

Cock No. 3 was Jules Verne.  No, not the writer of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, but nonetheless that’s the nickname this one’s gotten.  We had gone out once before.  We met at Velvet Cantina, a Mexican restaurant/bar in the Mission.  It seemed to be a bit of a bridge and tunnel crowd, but after a couple of strong margaritas and finally getting a table it wasn’t so bad.  We had fun even though we didn’t get around to getting me a new tattoo.  (Damn San Francisco tattoo parlors for not being open late-night!)

On the Day of Fuck Jules Verne picked me up and we went to dim sum.  I hadn’t had dim sum since I dated Ms. Absinthe, and she had a slight allergy to shrimp so we could have very few of the dishes.  She did, however, introduce me to chicken feet.  Yum.  I told Jules Verne I liked chicken feet on the drive over.  He agreed to try them, but I could tell he thought I was a little gross.  He did try the chicken feet, barely.  Lucky me, I got to eat the majority of them.

Lunch was very nice, though not without its problems.  Jules Verne’s credit card was declined so we had to wait while he called the card company.  Apparently the card, which was in his hand, had been stolen.  After that was resolved, we went to the parking garage to get his car, stopping on the way to pay for parking at a machine.  The machine ate the parking ticket, so we had to wait for an attendant to open up the machine to retrieve it.

Jules Verne was afraid to do anything else for fear that something would go wrong, again.  We drove to his house in the Oakland Hills.  Well, his parents’ house.  His parents’ house that was well-stocked with wine.  The parents, conveniently, weren’t home.  The day was gorgeous so Jules Verne and I sat on the patio sipping wine and enjoying the view.

Of course we got to talking about sex.  Of course.  A large duffel bag appeared from which he pulled a huge dildo.  Huge, not “super” at all, SUPER.  I’m not sure if he asked, but I told him I could take it.  Perhaps I can, but that was not for the Day of Fuck.

What the huge dildo in Jules Verne’s possession told me was that he was a size queen.  No, he’s not a queen.  But he likes to see big things going in pussies.  Isn’t that was a lot of porn is all about anyway?  Well, he clearly wanted to see it live.

That Jules Verne and I were going to fuck eventually became inevitable.  I wanted to go upstairs and fuck but he refused me.  What?!  I could tell he wanted to fuck me, I was offering myself to him, I was wanting his cock in me, so why was I being refused, dammit?  He was worried the maid would show up.  Uh, we’ll just tell her not to clean the room in which we’re fucking.

Only “maid” wasn’t quite the right term for her.  She was apparently Jules Verne’s nanny when he was a kid so he felt an affinity to her as a child for a mother.  He wanted to keep the illusion between them that he was not a sexual being.  Fine, whatever, but I wanted to fuck.

Into the car to drive back across the Bay Bridge to San Francisco.  To my building where my neighbors’ apartment was still an option for fucking.  I deposited him there and then had to, for the second time of the day, go to my apartment for my Magic Wand, the Pure Wand, lube, and condoms.  And for the second time of the day it was clear that I needed a Doctor of Fuck bag always at the ready.

For the next couple of hours Jules Verne fucked me in my pussy and ass with his cock, the Pure Wand, and his hand.  I lost track of where went what and I didn’t care because it all felt good.  It was clear that both Jules Verne and I liked fucking pretty damn hard.

At one point both of us could tell that I was going to squirt or gush or whatever – I was going to female ejaculate.  And I really wanted to, I did, but I was on my neighbors’ bed and I was worried about the state of their bedding.  Worrying does not a huge orgasm make.  By the time I decided, “Fuck it, I’ll wash everything anyway,” it was too late, the moment had passed.

My pussy still felt fucking great.  We were having a lot of fun … until I looked at the clock.  Fuck, it was late.  I had another date that night, and I don’t like to spring a threesome on a guy without warning, so Jules Verne had to go.

I sent Jules Verne on his way and realized my pussy was quite sore.  I was a bit worried, as the next fuck of the day was the Russian.  The Russian has a delightfully huge cock …

[To be continued ….]

I swear.  True story.

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