Before starting today's post I would just like to thank my readers for the positive response to my post on Thursday. It does take a lot of courage to be this open with you all, but you make it worth it every time. Thanks. And fortunately by writing out my problems I was able to make this fun post remembering an event from almost exactly a year ago.
August 21st, 2010 is a fairly important date to me. Around that time I was packing up all of my things to move. Not just what I was bringing to college, but everything I owned had to be either packed or thrown out because sometime during that year at school my mother was planning to sell our house and move. She did, and now most of my stuff is in storage, waiting to be unpacked. But packing it all was a big step. I was essentially moving out of my childhood home (though really the 5th home total I had moved from). I was also dealing with the fact that I had recently had my last ever sexual encounter with my mentor Paul before he moved out to California to live on the West Coast. But why that day in particular is important to me is because that day was the last time I had a fist in a man's ass.
I love fisting, I really do. There is something almost mind-blowing watching anal lips bloom out to surround your hand as you plunge in, only to tightly grip your wrist the moment you're there. The way the man you're inside has to trust you totally, and you have to trust yourself. The warm sensation of being fully in there, of having the most of your body possible inside...It is intoxicating.
My talented bottom for this session was from out of state, but currently staying at one of the many campgrounds we have here. He was upfront about wanting a fist, and I was excited to give him one. He had pictures of him with his hole filled and clearly had experience in hole stretching and fisting. That's what I usually look for in a fist partner. I've had too many guys tell me they want to get a fist, but demonstrate a clear lack of experience in even slight anal training. Fisting is not something that a newcomer can do starting out. It takes time and patience, and even someone who is experienced can have an off day and not be able to take it. So fisting virgins and I have a bad track record. Lucky for me, this guy was a pro.
I was a bit unsure about fisting him in his camper, but he said it was plenty of room, so I figured I would go for it. The campground makes you pay even to just be a guest for a day, so I ended up leaving my car at a nearby park and ride and getting picked up by him. He was the perfect image of a pig in disguise. A late thirties man in a plain white polo shirt over light brown cargo shorts, but his buzzed hair and goatee told me what I needed to know. The first thing he said to me when I got into the car was, "I've got a big plug in me, getting ready for it to be your fist instead." The man was singing my tune.
I had never been in a camper before, so I was amazed at how open the space was inside. Whoever makes those things are amazing. My attention was quickly stolen, however, by the dildos of various large sizes laying on the bed next to a tub of Crisco. I was in my own little piece of heaven as the two of us stripped down and got on the bed. One thing that really get's me off is working another man's ass open with toys. Anal stretching has always been an interest of mine and I have developed a taste for seeing men invaded by larger and larger items. So when he pulled his legs back to show me the butt plug he had in, I was quickly shifting to that animalistic side of me that wanted--no, needed--to get that ass spread as wide as possible.
When I pulled the plug out of his ass I knew that it wasn't going to take much time to open him up. His ass practically gaped at me around the plug as I pulled. The plug was big. Bigger than any I own. I picked up the first dildo and got it nice and slick before pushing it into him. The entire time I was working him open with increasingly larger dildos, I wanted to watch his ass open wider and wider. But I couldn't. I found myself constantly looking into his eyes. There are many men with beautiful eyes, but only a few who have ever been able to capture me in them like I was. I think his lightly green-blue eyes are what makes this event so special to me, not the fact that he was my last fisting partner. They were deep, and I was hooked in them, and I think he knew he had me. We gave each other mirroring intense looks, the kind of look you get when you are staring at a man you are about to become incredibly intimate with, a man who will be in your mind forever. At some point I found myself aggressively kissing him, never closing my eyes or moving my gaze from his.
When he was ready for my fist, I thought I was about to shoot. I had been jerking my cock too much, so I had to take a quick break and fuck him. His sloppy hole did it's best at hugging my cock. The sensation of fucking a loose hole verses a tight hole is something that has to be experienced, even if it isn't your thing. I came in him quickly and immediately after pulling out began to push my hand in. With my fingers pressed tightly together I slowly, but steadily pushed in, feeling his hole opening. It was the only time I was able to pull my eyes from his. Instead I watched as my knuckles went past his sphincter and my hand popped inside.
We both gasped, but his was followed by a deep moan. I slowly moved around inside of him, rotating and feeling his hole from all sides. It was incredible how receptive to my motions he was, and I was feeling him on my arm the way one might feel an ass around their cock. It was sending intense feelings through my whole arm. But the best part was when I looked in his eyes again. We were connected very deeply now, and he was sliding ever farther down my arm. The more I put in, the wider his eyes would get, and we both would gasp and kiss roughly as I moved inside of him.
When he came, his cock shot intensely hard all over the two of us. I remember his ass spasming around my arm, taking me the deepest he had all afternoon. It was hot to be that deep in him. I don't have an incredibly long forearm, maybe fourteen to fifteen inches at the most, but he had a good eleven of them in him, and I'm not exaggerating. When he finished his orgasm, he didn't pull off like I expected. Instead he got on all fours with my arm still in him and had me keep going. At various times moving into the night I had two hand in him, my arm almost to the elbow, and my fist opening and closing right where I knew his prostate was. Everything I did inside of him felt like it brought us closer to being the same being, if that makes sense. Through my arm and hand, I felt like he had become another extension of myself. It was an incredibly intimate feeling to have. We were both in total piggy heaven, covered head to toe in his Crisco. I came more times that evening, and so did he. Then we sort of fell into each other, messy and happy, and rested for a bit.
I was in somewhat of a daze as he drove me back to my car (after a less that satisfactory shower in one of the campground bathrooms and some food he bought for us). I kept wanting to hold him and stare into his eyes again, but I knew I couldn't distract him. I was amazed that he was able to sit and drive the car, even though I had helped him in working his ass tighter before I left. He still had to be pretty damn open from what I did. When I got out of his truck and into my own car, I couldn't help but feel sad at leaving this man. I would say that he was the best fisting session I have ever had. Since then I've tried, but just haven't been able to get a session going. There were too many fakers and flakes in Ohio who said they would take a fist but never followed through. I doubt that my own sorrow at losing such a great fuck (probably forever, I don't have a way to contact him anymore) caused me to self-sabotage my luck, but I am a little sad that it has been over a year for me now. When will I fist again? Hopefully soon.