Deepfist
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 mu 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
Vaseline, 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 petroleum jelly, 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
Vaseline 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, 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 Vaseline. 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 hershey highway.
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 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 18-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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