Hey, Guys!
I hope you are still all on board for a fuck and fist
party. Right now there are the four of us.
2pm on Saturday, January 31.
You all know the address.
It’s fine to park in front of the house until 2am.
xxx-xxx-xxx—give me a text as you leave home, perhaps?
I will have the sling, bed and fuck bench ready.
It might be wise to bring a towel—I have quite a few, but
once I use them under the equipment, I might run short.
Remember I don’t have a hose in the shower. I do have a bulb for touch-ups.
Bring your favorite lube—though I will have a Crisco
container for each bottom. And the lube
I use to fuck…
I will have water and maybe a hot, mulled cranberry
juice. BYOB after that.
What have I forgotten?
See you soon!!
This was the invite I sent to three fist players: a top, a
versatile and a vers/bottom. My guests
have all been mentioned in these posts before.
Leather Top has played at my house and with our friends on the west side
of the state. He is a handsome man in
his early 60’s. He’s a former leather
title holder and a very experienced man with his hands. Roger is the versatile man I wrote about in
His First Fist. And I was indeed the
first man to get my hand in the ass of this in-demand fisting top. He is about my age, with a matching shaved
head. As it worked out, this day, he was
all bottom. The vers/bottom was the host
of the party where I met Roger. Daron is
a bear of a man with a thatch of ginger hair on his head and a great pelt of it
on his chest. I know he can top for
fisting, I have just never seen him do it.
This party was not like my usual fuck gatherings. A fisting party, in my experience, is a much
more laid back affair. You can play for
hours. (We played 3 and a half.) It’s not about getting off in the usual sense
of fuck and release—though hopefully you are giving the man you are fisting
sensations that are actually more amazing than a traditional orgasm.
“So how shall we decide?”
Leather Top asked me. Roger had
gotten on the fuck bench. Daron was in
the sling. “Want to flip for it?”
I nodded. LT flipped
a quarter and said “Heads you do Roger, Tails you do Daron.” The coin was caught and smacked on his thick,
hairy wrist. “Heads it is.”
I moved behind Roger’s pale white ass. The moment I touched him he began telling me
to fuck him good first. I did what I
almost always do; I fell to my knees and stuck my tongue into his hole. As I rimmed, Roger huffed his first whiff of
poppers. Tonguing ass gets me hard. I find it hard to just start to fuck with no
kind of warm up.
Leather Top’s approach was the exact opposite. He had two Crisco-ed fingers going into Daron
as I started rimming. I inserted my dick
into Roger when I was ready. LT smoothly
inserted the rest of his hand into Daron.
I fucked Roger as deeply as I could and began inserting a finger into
him along with my cock. It was the act
of getting his entire fist into Daron that erected LT’s cock and to use it
occasionally as well. I pulled out and
began the slow stretch to start the process of getting my hand into him. LT was now fucking Daron hard. Opposites indeed.
These two men seem to get off more on girth than depth. I know men where I can crawl into them up to
my elbow and beyond, but these two were about that feeling of something wider
than a cock popping through that sphincter.
I started to add fingers around my dick.
I added all four on my right hand.
When I was no longer using my cock as much, I had eight fingers, 4 from
each hand, doing a lateral stretch of his hole.
This seems to be the move that shows me he is ready for my full
hand. My right, the slightly larger
hand, went in first. It was slow, steady
pressure with a slight twist of my hand and wrist that gets it in there. The punch fisting of so much fisting porn was
nowhere to be seen in the playroom that day.
I love fisting for it is an incredibly intimate act. His life is truly in my hands. The level of trust a fisting bottom places in
me is pretty staggering. The slow
stretch. The slower crawl into him. How hot and wet and tight it feels. The snap of the sphincter around my wrist
after the heel of my palm enters.
Amazing. The merest movement by
me, so deep inside, sends off waves of sensation in the man I’ve entered. I can stroke his prostrate—not with my dick—but
literally.
I need to talk about holes.
I’m sure that there are men who play with big toys constantly who have
the stereotypical gaping canyons gay men joke about. Not these men. They are muscle holes. They Kegel regularly. They have more control over their insides
than some cum dump who is ass up in the motel room. In other posts, I talk about how Marco can
relax one moment to allow me in, and in the next moment squeeze down and force
my hand out of his ass. Daron can do the
same. Roger is getting there. And if they can do that with my hand—and make
it feel exciting—imagine what it feels like when they grip down on my cock.
The first time I stuck my hand up an ass was in 1991 or
92. I was at Man’s Country in Chicago. I walked into the only sling room that they
had back then. A fucking hot muscle man
was in it. He liked my dick but asked
for more. I was willing, but a
novice. I was afraid I’d hurt him. I instinctively inserted a couple of fingers
carefully with a slight twist—no jabbing.
He groaned in pleasure and asked for the rest. I added two more with the same twisting
motion. He reached down and pulled the
rest of my hand into him as he relaxed his hole. The closure of his anus snapping around my
wrist hooked me on the spot.
Wanting to learn properly I spent a weekend at a gay resort where
a fisting club had taken over the play area.
They had “hands on” demos. I was
declared a natural by the club president.
They couldn’t believe I had never bottomed. I had a naturally empathetic feel for what was
happening in the ass I was invading.
I have found that most fistees are excellent teachers if
they need to be. They can help a partner
through his first time. Listen to
them. Watch their eyes, their faces. Move slower than you might think. Don’t jab.
And file your nails…
No comments:
Post a Comment