Cavernous Hole

In a fit of exploration, I wanted to try everything. Among those, I hadn't somehow fit into my basket of topping turned out to be fisting. Without going into details or boring you with the mechanics of things, a little online searching netted me an experienced bottom. We arranged a time, I trimmed my fingernails and over he came.

Well described in previous postings on myself, athletic prowess turned out not to be forte, so whenever I ventured into new arenas, a slow and almost scientific-methodical process ensued. I lubed up my right hand and he rolled onto his back, his freshly shaved hole in front of my gaze. I just touched his hole and worked a single finger in, surprised at how quickly we got down to business.

"Let me know what to do," I said. I'd explained to him my interest and lack of experience. I hoped for a good educational session.

"Just a sec," he said. I froze, worried I'd done something wrong so far. Then he took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, "I'm ready."

You've probably heard the joke before or just some good, old fashioned ribbing among friends. But at that moment, the joke became reality.

The sphincter opened like nothing I'd ever seen. Open sesame. And with that, my fist to the wrist entered him with no resistance. In fact, a sucking sound swallowed my fist whole. Within five minutes, my hand snaked its way beyond the colon into the large intestine. And, bicep deep, my fingertips tickled the entry to his small intestine.

The sensation did not turn me on. In fact, I started to laugh. I regained my composure and kept it straight up. But inside, I heard two words over and over and over again.

Meat Muppet.

I felt as if I could make his mouth move with the movement of my hand.

Slowly I removed my hand and, eventually out of obligation to the kindness he showed in opening up his ass, I jerked off into his ass. I couldn't fuck him. His ass just was too loose for me to get enough friction to get off.

I never fisted again. I have no desire to try it again.