Erotica#1 :: The Unfortunate Fisting Incident of 2009 by Kade #truestory

One tub Boy Butter, one hotel room, two overzealous fuckers. Kade finds himself in an awkward position…

boy_butter-1It’s safe to say that fisting is not everyone’s tube of lube, but mostly, they say that from a point of zero experience. Not me. No sir. I got down and dirty, so to speak, so when I say I am not a fan, I can back it up with experience. The experience of the Unfortunate Fisting Incident of 2009, in fact.

And we’re not talking vaginal fisting here. Nope. Anyone can do THAT. Well, any woman, that is. I’m talking proper, full-on anal fisting here.

Picture the scene…

A little hotel, somewhere between his house and mine, a blustery Friday evening. I meet him there because the kind of things we like to do should never be done at home, in your own bedding. Linen’s just to costly for that. I meet Ian in the lobby as he is getting the keys and we silently make our way towards room 210.

The kind of things we like to do should never be done at home, in your own bedding

It’s all business with Ian and I: Close the door, strip down naked and he’s flat on his back as I take his cock into my mouth. I flick my tongue gently over his jap-eye and lightly graze my teeth over the sensitive skin. Ian’s breath catches and his cock gets harder – I’m damn good at what I do.

Arching his back, Ian grabs my right hand, which has been kneading his butt cheek, and slides it towards his crack. I know what he wants. I know he’s been exploring this fisting thing for a while now and, to be honest, I’m more than a little scared. It’s going to be my first time, and even though I’m only going to be the fister, I’m nervous as fuck.

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There’s no way you’re getting a hand the size of mine into any orifice without decent lube, though. Reluctantly, I release his cock and pad over to my backpack, tossed on the floor next to our hastily-discarded clothing and pull out a tub of Boy Butter.

Yeah. Great name, that.

Opening the jar, I slather huge globs of lube onto his balls and massage it into the skin around his asshole, all the while licking, blowing and biting the skin of his cock.

It’s immediately apparent you can’t rush this. I coax my index finger into Ian’s anus, all the while applying pressure on his cock with my mouth. Ian flexes and tightens his butt around my finger. Is it involuntary? Have I hurt him? No… He’s loving this, trying to milk my finger with his asshole.

Slowly, I slide my finger out, cross my middle finger over it and slide the two back in, easing the knuckles past his sphincter slowly – more for Ian’s enjoyment than for consideration of his pain threshold. He moans and arcs his hips upwards once – I nearly gag as he forces his cock roughly into the back of my throat.

He’s taking strain, his anus tight around my hand, between my second and third knuckles

My left hand holds Ian up at the base of his spine as I hungrily move my head up and down his cock. Man, I love his cock. One of the nicer ones I’ve had. I’m looking forward to his hot, sweet load gushing down my throat. All these thoughts amble across my mind as I slowly twist and pull my two fingers in and out Ian’s asshole. Slowly, slowly I manage a third finger … and a fourth … and my pinkie … and I wonder how the hell I’m going to get my whole fist inside this man. He’s taking strain, his anus tight around my hand, between my second and third knuckles.

Ian moans ‘Fuck me! Fuck me with your fist!’ I pull out almost all the way and pump my four fingers back in a few times. ‘Fucking put it all in! Fist me! Fuck me!’ Ian breathes hoarsely, so loudly I’m worried whoever is in the room next door will hear.

I put my mouth over the head of his cock and graze the skin with my teeth

I pull out almost all the way, and point my right hand like a gravy scoop, four fingers wrapped around my thumb and slowly push against Ian’s resisting ass. More lube is added. Ian arcs his back. ‘Lie down!’ I bark. Straining his legs up like that is forcing his sphincter to clamp shut. ‘Relax!’ I say a bit more calmly. He does. I put my mouth over the head of his cock and graze the skin with my teeth. He loves this. Drives him wild.

I push forward against his butt hole – I feel his knees pull away, to the side, almost like he is trying to swallow me whole, with his ass – and suddenly, my hand is in, slipping past my considerable knuckles. Ian yelps out in a pained, ecstatic cry as his ass clamps down firmly on my wrist.

Feverishly, I suck at his quickly softening cock, thinking he has lost interest – but I’m wrong. It’s just that his focus has changed. Ian writhes against the sheets, against my invading hand deep inside him.

He closes his legs and his hairy man thighs churn against my wrist. ‘Uuurgh, yeaaaaah! Fuuuck! Suck my cock!’ he moans, breathing hard. I suck. I bite. Ian likes it rough. My hand feels warm, like it’s encased in a soft, suede glove. Ian flexes inside and I respond by slowly opening and balling my fist, pulling outwards then slowly back in, rhythmically pumping Ian. I move my head up and down his slick cock in time to my fist pumps and Ian’s cock reacts, becomes harder. He moans.

Jesus! How much cum does he have inside him?

Deep inside him, I twist my fingers upwards, towards my slavishly-working mouth, searching for Ian’s prostrate, gently seeking it out. I find it nestling just up, inside his asshole, behind his balls. I’m sucking and teasing his cock, gently kneading inside. I brush against his love gland and Ian grunts urgently, arcing his hips up, hands on the back of my head, forcing me down on him. Another deep, throaty grunt and Ian explodes a hot shower of jizz down my throat. I want to gag – it’s too much in my mouth. Cock buried deep in my face, jizz shooting out as my hand rubs Ian’s prostrate. He bangs my face down to the base of his cock, again and again. Jesus! How much cum does he have inside him? I realise that my rubbing the prostrate is forcing wave after wave of orgasm through Ian – that I’m in control here.

I slow down but don’t stop. I force my head up against his straining hands, flick my tongue over his raging, swollen, cum-drenched cockhead, all the while inside the man I nudge against his prostrate again. The effects are instant: another flood of hot jizz rushes out, over my tongue and lips and falls back over his cock. I hungrily lap it up. I do it again. Fuck! Why did no one ever teach me this before? Ian is completely at my mercy!

‘Enough! Stop! Please…I can’t take anymore!’ he pleads. I give one last suck, lick his cock clean as he shudders and eases down onto the bed.  I look up at Ian, over his quickly collapsing cock. He is lost in a world of his own … and his ass is pressing shut firmly over my wrist. It’s becoming painful.

I realise with each rush of orgasm, Ian’s ass clamped tighter and tighter

I slowly try to ease my fist out. But it’s tight. Real tight. I hadn’t noticed it but I realise with each rush of orgasm, Ian’s ass clamped tighter and tighter. Damn, it hurts! I force my fingers to close around my thumb as tight as possible and try again. Fuck! I can’t pull it out! Ian’s ass has gone into some perverse form of lockjaw! He looks up, suddenly panicked!

‘Get it out!’ he yells.

‘I can’t! You’re too tight! Relax! You’re making it worse!’ I yell back, trying and failing to get the panic out my voice.

Ian arches his back, yanking with both of his own hands at my now solidly stuck fist buried deep in his ass. ‘Fuck! Get it out! You’re wrecking me!’ he squeals.

‘Stop! Just fucking stop!’ I half-shout back, less concerned about the occupants of the next room, than with a full-on raging, shouting match – about my fist up someone’s ass – erupting while I am literally unable to escape Ian’s frantic writhing.

He collapses back on the bed and tries to sit up. ‘Aaargh! Fuck!’ he grunts. It feels like he is trying to push my hand out his ass like some obscenely dexterous baby. The pain in my hand is unbearable.

‘Don’t do that! Lie down!’ I command, but with little success. His very soft and sticky cock slaps me across the cheek, prone as I am in this position, I can’t escape this added humiliation.

The thought of enduring a medical response team’s horror and judgement is too much to bear

My mind is racing with the myriad problems presented by our situation. How the hell am I going to get my hand out of Ian?

Will there be surgery (FUCK!). Will they have to amputate it? (Oh GOD!) The thought of enduring a medical response team’s horror and judgement is too much to bear. (Well, sir, we, er, fell onto the, er, bed…). It’s not like we can get off the bed to walk to my backpack with the phone, let alone walk to the car  to get to a hospital. (Fucking wet balls in my face.) And anyway, how does one drive with a fist up your arse? Maybe we should try to call a family member? No. Don’t even suggest it. I’m not calling any of my siblings. Let alone my parents. (NOT EVER FUCKING NO!)

I decide I’ll play comatose if it comes to an actual emergency call. When I ‘come to’ I’ll act just as surprised as anyone could be in a surprise fisting incident. Gosh darn, how ever did I get here? Shock, shock, horror, horror.

Fuck.

now you just come lie right here... you and your, er, friend...

now you just come lie right here… you and your, er, friend…

‘Aaargh! What have we done?’ Ian cries out through grated teeth.

‘How the hell did you get the hand out last time you did this?’ I growl back.

‘Well, the last person to fist me didn’t fucking have monster fucking hands did they!? Fucking Frankenstein.’

‘Fuck off.’ I reply, really, REALLY, wishing he could.

Ian twists to the side, slapping me across the face with his soft cock again. He’s doing this on purpose. Our eyes meet – we realise the fucked-up situation we’re in and erupt with laughter (which, incidentally, does not help with the tight asshole wrapped around my wrist at all.)

It takes another 30 minutes of slow breathing and talking quietly to ease up the tension in Ian’s sphincter and, with the rest of the handy Boy Butter, I eventually manage to inch my fist out of his arse. It’s a bummer end to a spectacular fuck session. If you’ll excuse the pun.

We’ve never tried fisting again.