SFH3 Run #1805: Venereal Heights
|:||Holly Park @ Bocana|
|:||Do Her Well|
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife who does not know about his big cock chains.
However little known might be the views of the wife on this fact, but regardless of this such a truth was so firmly fixed upon the minds of the hashers that all were very careful not to inform Mr. Fiid’s wife of any cock chains, big or otherwise, that they had become intimate while in the confines of his household.
Ms. Stinky Floss, upon exiting the bathroom while toweling her hair dry, remarked that it was a very lovely domicile, and that she could not believe there were no cock chains, big or otherwise, to be seen.
Mrs. Fiid replied that she couldn’t either.
Mr. ABBAH emerged from the bathroom as well, remarking in turn that his virgin wasn’t there nor were the virgin’s cock chains which he had definitely left at home, and asking Code For Penis if he had ever experienced such a thing. He said he had not, and together, they raised inquiring eyes to the wife.
The good Lady Fuck Buddy gave a loud laugh, almost but not quite forced, and said that she had know Mr. Jack the Ripper to utilize very large cock chains in the past, but he had quite given up the habit upon settling down. She whispered that perhaps if anyone in their cohort knew where to find them, Mr. Muff Daddy would be the one.
Mrs. Fiid’s lips were pressed quite firmly together, and she but raised an eyebrow, yet this was invitation enough.
Mr. Blowqueen cast a friendly arm around Mrs. Fiid’s shoulders and told her that all of the best cock chains of reasonable size and weight were of Swedish origin, and only would take two nights to put together for a person of reasonable intelligence. Mr. Circle Jerk objected to that characterization, averring that familiarity with cock chains greatly hastened the process, and he of course had none of that. Mr. Backside Banger was happy to share his experience while Mr. Hand Pump gently corrected him on the parts that he thought required a more delicate touch. But to a man they denied that any cock chains should be in the immediate vicinity.
Mrs. Fiid was relieved by the sight of Mr. Cockagami, panting and puffing, who pulled a jockey box through the door and swore upon the remnants of his dignity that he had not a single cock chain to offer but that he did have beer.
Mr. Shaft, at this, gasped and threw his hands over eyes in relief and thanked the gods of the massive cock chains that he did not have to suffer any longer. However, he in fact did have to suffer a moment more to wait for Mr. Good Shit, who demanded beer given that the talk of cock chains had left him quite parched.
After a full appraisal of the beer situation, Ms. Cockamole confided to Mr. Saigon Sally that she too had noted the deficiency of cock chains in the region and had traveled quite far to seek one, but had the greatest of luck inside a chamber pot. Mr. Brown Eye grew red and refused to speak with her for the rest of the night. Mr. Yari-Ben pulled her to the side and offered a trade for this information regarding the cock chains in the form of patch.
Mr. Douchicorn tactfully inquired whether cock chains were a hair product, while Ms. Lauren laughed giddily and Ms. Liz took him to the side to explain. Mr. Buck Fucka opined that some tools could have multiple uses, which Mr. Three Fingers concurred with, but said that such days were far in his past.
Mrs. Fiid, at this point, had begun to make excuses to Madam Ska Skank, who patted her on the shoulder and tutted at her, and offered her a fashionable coat without any depictions of cock chains at all on it to drape over her shoulders. Mrs. Fiid waved her off, declaring it was quite late indeed and she felt it best to retire for the night, at which Mr. Gloryhole waggled his eyebrows and told her felt retirement would suit her quite well. Then, unfortunately for her frail constitution, Mr. Cuming Mutha took her by the hand and said something definitely not about cock chains in Australian, and Mrs. Fiid was forced to smile and nod though she understood not a word.
The actions of Mr. Cuming Mutha served but only to delay Mrs. Fiid for but the second longer that it took for Mr. Arno to trip over a large box on the floor, spilling not only his beer, but its contents as well everywhere. Mr. Dick Ass Mother Fucker gasped in fright, while Mssrs. Zippercised and Crabs attempted to shield Mrs. Fiid from the frightful view. Mr. Yes Sir Yesshesfat surreptitiously acquired at least one of the items, only to be accosted by Mr. Wrinklepecker and Mr. Deadbeat who wanted their fair share.
Mrs. Fiid, fed up at last, pushed through Mr. Zippercised and Mr. Crabs and stared wide-eyed at the pile on the floor.
“My,” Mr. Udder Moron said gleefully. “Those are some big cock chains.”
“I told you!” Mr. Fiid jumped up and down in anger. “I told you over and over not to tell her. I allowed you into my house, out of this horrid storm, I fed you, I granted you access to my facilities, and there was but one condition. Don’t Tell My Wife About The. Big. Cock. Chains.”
“Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Fiid placed a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder. “You of all people must know that a lady’s imagination is very rapid. It jumps from admiration to love, and from love to big cock chains in just a moment. Don’t tarry too much longer,” she added before removing herself towards the door. She paused just a moment more at the threshold. “Besides dear,” she said airily. “I’ve seen bigger.”