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What a night Last night!
Ouch! My whole body aches, but it's the kind of ache I
crave. No work today, that's for sure. I can just
imagine the shocked looks on the faces of the girls in
the office if they knew how I get my sexual pleasure.
The reserved, prim and proper public relations
specialist, whom everyone thinks is so delicate and
sweet. I'm only 25-years old, beautiful, blonde, with a
great body and a high paying job. That's why I can
envision those old cows in the office puking up their
lunches if they knew that my cunt floods like a burst
dam whenever I have a fist shoved up my asshole.
That's right, I make no bones about what I am -- The
Fist Fuck Queen of the Big Apple. The closer to the core
of my bowels, the riper I become!
I can remember when I lost my anal cherry to a fist so
vividly that it seems as if it happened moments ago,
though in actuality, it's been almost a year. I started
going out with Brad, and I knew from the moment we laid
eyes on one another that the only thing on his mind was
fucking me.
He thought he was hot shit, a big stud. The arrogant
bastard even started boasting about putting his "whopper
between my buns." So one night, I gave in to the
inevitable. In all honesty, I've never been one to turn
down a cock, especially a big one!
Brad had a big one, all right, about nine inches. When I
first saw his prick, proud and erect, I remember having
the overwhelming desire to devour it. I think even he
was surprised at the way I deep-throated his meat. As
the head of his cock intruded deep into my larynx, and
gurgling gasps of pleasure escaped from my mouth, Brad
started playing with my cunt, ramming his fingers in and
out. But he shot his load down my throat before I had
the chance to let his fingers lead me to my own orgasm.
Since his prick wasn't able to return to active duty
yet, I guided his hand to my pussy and motioned for him
to put his fingers back to work. At first, Brad inserted
two fingers into my open box. It felt so good that I
moaned for him to put another one in. He was starting to
enjoy himself, also. He worked three fingers into my
cunt, rhythmically twisting them in and out. I was soon
bathed in my own joy juice. And then, before I knew it,
Brad had shoved all
five fingers inside of my wet hole. At first, I was
scared that he was going to rip my cunt open, but as his
wrist disappeared into my vagina, an uncontrollable
surge of exultation began welling up in the pit of my
stomach, spreading in great waves down to the pulse
of my womanhood.
Brad's fist plowed into my pussy, and I began to
shake in the throes of a giant orgasm. After he slid his
hand out, literally soaking wet, I needed a few minutes
to recover. But as my orgasm subsided, my desire to be
filled up increased. It was as if my eyes had just been
opened to a whole new world. I knew then and there that
a cock, even Brad's large one, would never again be able
to fully satisfy me. I wanted something bigger, longer,
harder, more exciting. I wanted a fist!
I had read about how popular anal fist fucking
had become, and I was always curious about it. I always
like to try new things, especially in sexual matters. So
I told Brad that I wanted him to fist fuck me up my
asshole. He stared at me in disbelief, stammering. He
was scared. He made excuses: he would rip my asshole
open and cause me internal damage; he would get shit all
over his arm; the idea was "weird and for fags." But I
told him that if he didn't do what I wanted, that would
be the end of out relationship, the end of our deep
throat sessions. That did the trick.
I knew from my reading that certain steps had to be
taken if fisting was to be enjoyed. I also knew that the
preparation would only serve to add to my excitement and
enjoyment. Step one was to clean out my bowels with an
enema. I kept an enema bag in the house
for medical purposes, but was never really into using it
for sex. But when Brad inserted the nozzle into my
puckered hole, a shiver of excitement raced through my
body. As the water made its journey into my intestines,
my heart started beating faster, knowing that the
passageway was being cleared for Brad's fist. And when I
shit out the enema I felt relief, not because the
pressure was released from my bowels, but because I knew
it wouldn't be long before I felt Brad's fist
corkscrewing its way deep into my chocolate channel.
But there was still another step to take. Opening a
large jar of
lubricant, I told Brad to scoop up a few globs and
massage it thoroughly on his hand and up his arm. When
the length of his arm and hand glistened from the lube,
I felt confident that the time was at hand, if you'll
pardon the expression.
I got down on all fours, propped up by a pillow, and
spread my ass cheeks as wide apart as possible. Then
Brad plunged one of his lube coated fingers into my
asshole, which was pleading to be plundered. When he put
his second finger in, I could feel my sphincter begin to
relax, lubricated by the jelly and my own juices. When
his third finger plunged into the inner sanctum of my
rectum, my clit actually started to tremble. Easing his
fourth
digit in, Brad began swirling his fingers deeper into my
dirt tunnel. I didn't feel any pain, I just felt intense
ecstasy. It was as if the sensitive nerve endings of my
anus were singing out in joy! When Brad finally squeezed
his thumb into my asshole, and all five fingers danced
around inside my most intimate of orifices, a great
emotion seized my entire body.
As if possessed, I yelled, "More! Shove your fist all
the way in!" Brad, caught up in the moment, did just
that. I could feel my anus opening to accommodate his
entire fist. My bowels sucked up Brad's hand like a
giant vacuum! He pushed his arm in and out of my
shit passage. Brad, too, had become excited; his
breathing was heavy and labored. As for me, I was past
the point of no return. My orgasm started somewhere in
my intestines, gathering momentum until my clit vibrated
and my pussy felt as if it was going to burst! I
came, and came, and passed out!
After that night, every time I saw Brad I demanded that
he fist fuck me. Yet he seemed to be growing more and
more tentative. I think that he thought he was turning
gay or something, the intensity just wasn't there. And I
was damned if I was going to give up what had become my
greatest joy of anal fisting. I liked Brad's big dick
when he fucked me the regular way, but I was determined
to have what I really wanted.
That's when I met Tim. A mutual friend introduced us. We
had dinner, hit it off right away, and went back to my
place. He wasn't classically handsome, but he had vivid
blue eyes which seemed to burn a hole through my body
into my soul. The sexual chemistry between us was
magical. I told him how badly I wanted to please him,
and how badly I wanted him to please me. But I also told
him I was "different" sexually, that I craved the
"unusual." He responded that he'd been involved in every
possible sex scene, and the kinkier the better!
That's when I knew that I had found the ideal lover. And
that's also when I told him that I was a devotee of
fisting.
Tim wasted little time getting down to business. First,
he licked my clit and tongued my pussy. Then, when I was
good and excited and on the brink of coming, he turned
me over. I didn't quite know what to expect next. I felt
Tim's smooth tongue sliding along the crack of my
asshole. He then descended straight down to my bunghole.
His tongue flickered around the opening. The prodding of
his tongue against my tight rosebud felt so very good.
He was lapping away, almost as if there was buried
treasure deep within my asshole. Then Tim's tongue
struck gold, brown gold, as it burrowed right into my
asshole. He pushed his tongue as deep inside as
possible, and it didn't take much of his ass lapping to
make me come.
Tim asked me where I kept the lube. I told him, and he
went and got it. When he returned, he spread my ass
cheeks apart, stretching them to their limit, then
liberally began spreading the grease around my anus. His
fingers darted in and out of my asshole, basting my
insides with the lubricant. What a great feeling!
Asking me if I was ready, Tim quickly inserted his
middle finger into my asshole. Then, without warning, he
rapidly jammed his four other fingers inside, in one
fluid motion. I was breathless. He wasn't anything like
Brad, unsure of himself. Tim knew what he was
doing, and how to do it! In the next instant, Tim's
whole fist was pushing its way into
my poop chute. I was soon overcome by the sheer speed
and firm strength of his motion.
When his fist was buried in my asshole up to his wrist,
I surely thought he world stop, Brad always had, but
Tim's fist continued to pile drive its way deeper into
my anus. I could feel his arm inching its way into my
stomach. I was stunned, but my screams were those of
pleasure, not pain. It soon felt as if his arm was
punching out my intestines, his fingers wiggling deep
inside, where no man had ever gone before. His arm was
buried to the elbow.
Becoming like a wild animal in heat, I bucked and
thrashed about the bed, frantically rubbing my clit as
if my hands had a life of their own. Needless to say,
when I came I saw stars! it took me a couple of hours to
come down from that sexual high!
From that incredible night on, Tim and I have been
inseparable. No, we don't always use anal fisting as
part of out lovemaking; some nights the missionary
position is enough to provide terrific orgasms. But
whenever Tim does fist fuck me, you better believe that
it's special. We've also come up with countless
variations of fisting. I won't soon forget the night Tim
first rammed an
17-inch dildo up my ass, then his own cock, then his
fist, in rapid
succession. That was wild. And I still cream when I
think about the time that Tim simultaneously fucked me
in the cunt with his cock and in the ass with his fist.
He pounded away in unison, pumping both his prick and
hand in and out of my respective holes. We both came
like gangbusters!
And I'm still trying to take both fists up my asshole.
So far the most I've managed to accomplish has been one
hand and one finger of his other hand. But I'm sure that
if we keep on trying, I'll be able to accomplish the
feat one day; practice makes perfect!
But last night was one of my most satisfying yet. Tim
and I had an intimate, romantic dinner, candlelight and
the whole works. We were both incredibly horny and we
almost ripped each other's clothes off. After some
heated foreplay which included a most
satisfying 69 session, we were ready for the main event.
Tim gave me an enema, greased up, and was soon ready to
fist his way into my heart, not to mention bowels! Yet
there was something different about him: he was more
animated than ever. He seemed to take almost maniacal
pleasure in thrusting his fist in and out of my asshole.
When he sensed my orgasm was at hand he uttered,
"Darling, I want this night to be special. I know how
badly you've wanted to take both hands up your ass, but
since we're not at that point yet, let's do the next
best thing." I didn't know what he meant, but I
was soon to find out.
Continuing his frantic fist fucking into the deep recess
of my bowels, Tim suddenly plunged his other hand into
my cunt! Like a piston, he worked both hands in and out
at the same time, one massaging my rectum, the other
forcing my pussy to open wider than seemed possible,
plunging his fist deep into my snatch, my cunt felt like
a whale swallowing up a passing ship. It was truly the
most exquisite feeling that I'd ever experienced. When I
came, I almost jumped two feet off the bed. It felt like
an atomic bomb had been set off inside my body! But Tim
wouldn't stop there. He kept on fist fucking both of my
intimate openings until I lost count of how many times I
came. This kept up until he was too exhausted to
lift his arms and I was too sore to prod him on.
Fuck! Here I am thinking about last night and the sheets
on my bed are dripping wet. Now I'm horny again. I guess
It's like when you have a hangover. They say the best
thing for it is the "hair of the dog that bit you." I
guess the best thing for a sore cunt and asshole is the
"hand of the stud that fucked you." What did I do with
that damn phone? Oh, here it is. "Hello, Tim, my love,
why don't you come over? I'll make lunch, then you can
fist me tonight!"
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