ads by AdXpansion

Fisting for Beginners — Giselle Renarde

Before I met my boyfriend Andrew, the only image I had in mind of “fisting” was a Mapplethorpe photograph of one beautiful black man with his hand fully inserted inside another beautiful black man’s ass.  To me, that was “fisting.” 

I knew Andrew was bisexual before we started dating, and the idea of him with other men always intrigued me.  One time, I asked him about Mapplethorpe and fisting.  I think my exact words were, “Do people really do that?”  I wanted to know if fisting was a real thing.

“Yes, people do it,” Andrew told me.  “I’ve done it.”

That really surprised me.  Andrew wasn’t muscular with gleaming black skin like the guys in the photograph.  He was white and scrawny and not particularly photogenic.  Still, he said he’d done it and I believed him.

I wanted to know more.  I asked him if he’d been on the receiving end or the giving end, and he said, “Both.” 

After I’d let the subject drop conversationally and percolate internally, Andrew brought it up again.  He asked me if I wanted to give it a try together.  I cringed.  It was still early in our relationship, and I hadn’t let him anywhere near my ass.  Now he wanted to stick his whole hand inside?  Or did he want me to shove my fist up his ass?  My hand wasn’t all that big, but it still didn’t seem possible or even all that appealing.

After a stammered and stilted conversation, Andrew clarified his meaning.  “We can see how many of my fingers will fit inside your pussy,” he said.  He promised to stop the second I felt it was too much, and assured me it was an experience unlike any other.

I could tell by the look in Andrew’s eyes that he really wanted to try fisting with me, so I agreed.  Hell, I’m no prude.  I like new experiences.  And I trusted him.  That was a big part of it.  Andrew kept mentioning that concept, trust, and saying it was an essential part of fisting.

Andrew took me to bed.  He kissed my lips as he undressed me slowly, running his fingertips all over my body.  Easing me out of my underwear, he brushed his fingers through my pubic hair.  That made him smile.

Stroking my clit slowly, Andrew kissed my breasts.  When my pussy was wet and ready, he pressed one finger inside.  I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he pushed two fingers in my slit.  I sighed as he eased those two fingers out, and then pushed them back inside.

For some reason, I’d envisioned fisting as a violent encounter.  What we did together was exactly the opposite.  Every move he made was slow and loving.

He brought three fingers close together and set them at the mouth of my wet pussy.  He pressed those three thick fingers into the juice.  Once they were inside of me, he let those fingers open up and play in my pussy.  Andrew was right: this encounter was like nothing else I’d ever experienced.  He kissed my chest and my breasts, my neck and my mouth, and he said nice things the whole time.  I felt like I was his whole world, and everything in his life was about me, my pleasure, and his task of filling me as full as I could go.

When he took the three fingers out, they were very wet, but he made his hand wetter with lube.  He curled his baby finger in with the other three and pushed all those fingers slowly inside my body.  I watched in amazement.  Andrew’s fingers weren’t exactly small, and somehow he’d put four of them inside my pussy.  It was quite a feat.  More astounding still, nothing he did hurt me.  Not even a little bit.  It all felt warm and wonderful because he was taking his time.

We breathed together, gazing into each other’s eyes as he let his fingers expand me.  Whenever anything felt even close to painful, I’d let him know and he’d go even slower.  I don’t know how long he spent working me up to it, but at some point I looked down to find that somehow, miraculously, he’d gotten those four fingers inside me all the way to his knuckles.  It seemed impossible, but there it was.

Andrew asked me if I wanted to stop or try for five.  Now that we’d gone so far, the idea of feeling his fist inside me seemed divine rather than scary.  I encouraged him to get that thumb inside.

He didn’t let my pussy close up.  He only took his fingers out of me until he could squeeze his thumb against his palm and douse his hand with more lube.  He didn’t force his hand inside.  He turned it in slow semi-circles, left to right, right to left.  It made me think of those beautiful glass juicers, where you put the orange half on top and turn it back and forth.  Andrew’s fist was the juicer and I was the orange.

I was spurting and wet when his whole hand rested inside of me.  The feeling wasn’t orgasmic in an everyday sense, but orgasmic in a cosmic sense.  We looked at each other for a very long time.  We breathed together while his fingers waved like sea life inside my pussy.  The whole experience was almost more meditative than sexual, but it was sensual too. 

Fisting sounds like something gritty.  That’s what I thought until my Andrew came along to teach me how uplifting a sexual experience could be.  He was right: it brought us closer and added to the intimacy of our relationship.  Fisting wasn’t at all what I thought it would be.  It was a thousand times better.

____________________

Giselle’s other sexy stories published here on Every Night Erotica can be found here.

Eroticist, environmentalist, and pastry enthusiast Giselle Renarde is a proud Canadian, supporter of the arts, and activist for women’s and LGBT rights.  For Giselle, a perfect day involves watching a snowstorm rage outside with a cup of tea in one hand and a chocolate truffle in the other. Ms Renarde lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head.

Giselle has sexy story in the anthology “The Bad Girl’s Sweet Kiss” available from http://www.xcitebooks.com/category-208/9781908006639.html or http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0049H963C.

For more information on Giselle and her work, visit her website at www.gisellerenarde.webs.com or visit her Donuts and Desires blog at donutsdesires.blogspot.com.


ads by AdXpansion
  • http://www.readingbypublight.blogspot.com Steve Isaak

    Informative, entertaining, above-average work – stunning, dare I suggest UNDOUBTEDLY LIFE-CHANGING FOR SOME, stuff.