Play Day - Monday Part Three

From previous post here....I collapse back onto the bed. I suck at his cock. I feel so spent, so gloriously spent.

I am pulled out of myself or into myself depending on how you look at it. Floating and spacey, I lie back as instructed. My cunt is sopping wet. He works his fingers inside me until he is fisting me - hard. We don't play with this anymore. There is no gradual process of working into being fisted. It is expected that I open and accommodate his hand. I do....Oh God I do. When he has his fist inside me I lose my head. It draws out the most intense orgasms. Each movement he makes is magnified by a thousand. His hand twists and shifts and my whole body lurches and I am gasping. I don't remember him telling me to quieten down so that either means I was a. quiet (not likely) or b. he had other plans and he was allowing me to go off in my head so he could unwind his deviousness out to its fullest.

** Note **

Kendra at TBK "came out" last week (see how long ago I wrote this). I find her bravery and honesty refreshing and inspiring. She also did a gorgeous post on fisting . SO, dear readers (as promised) here I am being more honest with YOU! I have been a little reluctant to come out about fisting. It is something I thoroughly enjoy. If you sift back through my archives there are several spots where I talk about it, though not expressly. You may find it if you know what you are looking for. Now I am calling a spade a spade! Oh and for any my sub-sisters who may be a tad scared of the prospect - don't be...Being fisted is as close to God as I think you will get in this life and a goal well worth working towards!

** End Note **

He had other plans. I came. My ears were ringing with the intensity. Being fisted is like drowning in the shallows while waves keep pummeling you and you can not stop to draw breath.

I was in such an exhilarating combination of off in my head and totally present to my physical experience. Usually he is inside me deep and hard. I felt myself stretching and pulling. I have no idea what he was doing. I remember begging at one point for no more. Usually he pushes me through that. This time he did not. He stopped. He told me to lie back on the bed and rest while he went and had a shower. I lay back and did not move a single muscle.  I am not convinced I could have if I had wanted to.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"Being fisted is like drowning in the shallows while waves keep pummeling you and you can not stop to draw breath."

Wow!!! What stunning eloquence you possess! I must experience this for myself one of these days, but I'm afraid I'm too chicken shit to dare ask for it. I'm afraid I'd never be the same again, really! Ouch!! Nonetheless, getting fisted is definitely on my bucket list! :-D