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CALL OF THE DAY: when watermelon aren’t enough

Today is a bad day for phone sex. I am recovering for a 48-hour flu that laid me out, which means that my throat is still too ticklish and dry for the longer calls, or the "noisy" ones (Extreme Top or multiple orgasms or the guy who wants to shove three dildos into my ass at once, end to end). Also, my nose is a fountain of snot. All my Ms and Ns are coming out Bs and Ds and making whole different meanings out of things. I have to go carefully and breathe slow, which are anathema to most really quality calls. Really, I just don't want to take any more calls until the snot is gone.

But my boss took it easy on me yesterday, so I am determined to not be difficult. When she rings up to give me a call from Titty-Fuck Rosary, I only sigh a little bit, and double-check that my water glass is right there. Twenty minutes of any kind of talking is still a chore for me. (That's how you can tell I'm sick.)

I greet him, and as part of that, I mention the switch-up we did on our last call: he wanted me to get some surgery and bump my 42JJs up to 50PPPs. My eyes had rolled back in my head about his insistence on the higher band size—men do not know a damn thing about bras!—but I had given it to him. Now I wanted to know if he wanted me to stay at that size.

Spiky for HIS pleasure!

Spiky for HIS pleasure!

"Definitely, definitely! But you know, I was looking around online for fruits that were bigger than watermelon."
- Oh, yeah? (Oh, dear.)
"Yeah, and I found the jack fruit. You know those?"
- Um, yes?
"Talk about that."

Dear reader, Titty-Fuck Rosary had indeed done his research. I went and wiki'd that thing after our 20-minute call was up, and that is a big, big fruit. I was most interested in the culinary uses for it, which the Wikipedia article details very well. When I was finished with the reading, I was mostly left with two thoughts:

1) I want to try jack fruit ice cream.
2) WHO THE HELL WANTS TO IMAGINE THEIR DICK TRAPPED BETWEEN JACK FRUIT

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate his creativity in seeking items for comparison; he really wanted both of us to understand just how big he likes his big white tits. But he wanted me to SAY it, constantly, in the second half of the call: "big white jack fruit tits", "enormous jack fruit-sized white titties". I'll be honest, the cognitive dissonance was a little much. Even before I went to Wikipedia, I knew that the jack fruit was one of the more unapproachable-looking fruits, with all sharp bumpy bits, so the whole time I was doing his call, I had to push that knowledge away.

Somewhere in his head, he must be pushing that knowledge away, too. He must have seen the pictures. But for him, size overrides spikes, I guess.

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