megstar's blog post - Fisting

My previous blog entry resulted in some rather interesting conversations with some fellow nudesters, one in particular had me trying to explain why I like fisting and the sensation it gives. I couldn’t find the words to describe it quite how I wanted to at the time so said I would write an entry on the subject and see if I could clarify my thoughts better for them on this subject.

Now to some the idea of being fisted does not fit with their personal preferences, maybe just the thought is enough to make you cross your legs tightly and vow that you are never going to try it how could you enjoy the act of someone slowly easing their fingers into you one at a time, stretching you as they manoeuvre theirs fingers as if they were going to cast a shadow on the wall of a duck.

No to some it holds no interest, there is nothing wrong with this each to their own but for me there is something so unbelievably erotic about the whole act that I’m glad to say that every now and then there is nothing quite like a fist easing its way into my pussy.

I can remember the very first time I was fisted, it happened after a particular great night out many moons ago. Myself and my OH had spent the evening with friends in our local, the walk home had been interesting to say the least and once home somehow (innocent look on face) the porn appeared on the TV. Now we had watched this particular video (yep that’s how long ago it was) a good few times and certain aspects of it had been acted out in the bedroom but the fisting scene we had only ever joked about with neither one of us owning up to the fact it had more than intrigued us. That night though I was all for trying it out and through some tactful moving on my part and obvious willingness on his it became the first night I had ever been fisted.

There’s something about that first time that made me feel incredibly dirty the following day, I had by all means enjoyed the act but I also felt like I had been the worse person for enjoying it. I wasn’t normal if I liked it, I could only imagine the look of horror on my friends faces if I told them that I’d tried fisting last night and admitted it was awesome. Somethings just aren’t seen as right and fisting at the time was one of them.

The next few weeks after that first time the OH tried to fist me again and at first I would be enjoying it but suddenly it would get to the point where I would have to stop. I suppose I had been brought up in this little bubble where anything other than straight forward sex was wrong, none of my friends had mentioned anything like it and I couldn’t get over that burning feeling of shame at the back of my thoughts for enjoying what was taboo for most. We ended up having a conversation about it one night where after the OH saying how I seemed to enjoy it, what was stopping me from doing it again I admitted that it felt wrong. His reply was simple, if I enjoyed it and he enjoyed it how could it be wrong? I smile now as this is probably one of the only times I’ll admit that he was right, how could it be wrong if we both enjoyed it?

Over the years I have learnt that I love fisting, yes there has been a few times where I have second guessed my feelings towards it but I can’t deny it, I love every once in a while to feel that overwhelming fullness that only a fist can achieve.

Now it’s not about being unsatisfied with a cock in my pussy and it’s not a size issue with cock either, it’s about the feeling of being helpless as my pussy envelopes around a wrist, freezing me on the spot for that split second before my body is over taken with the biggest rush of feelings exploding over it.

The build-up of having someone playing with your pussy until you are in that space where all your senses are heightened, the anticipation as slowly another finger slides into me, filling my pussy until another finger joins in. That moment when the fingers slide out leaving me wanting more and then feeling the knuckles of a fist easing into the entrance of my pussy.

Laying there with my legs spread wide fully exposed and all the focus on me is at times quite overwhelming but once I have got past that it is replaced with nothing but pleasure, my skin tingles, goose bumps appear and all the cares in the world float off into the distance. Distractions gone I can pick up on all the different sensations that curse though me.

I have only been fisted by 2 people, it comes down to a trust issue and I have to know that the other person is as into it as I am. There is a certain intensity that it brings with it. The moment my pussy feels those knuckles pressing against my lips it naturally tightens up in anticipation, slowly relaxing as the pressure builds and then eases as entry is achieved. The fullness in those first few moments takes my breath away, it sends me soaring high as slowly my pussy is stretched to accommodate the fist wanting to fill me. Slowly my pussy opens up letting the fist further in until it sits there inside with my lips closing around its wrist. Now at that point I like to just feel, feel everything within me and revel in it before going any further to take just that little moment to register all the feelings that emit from the fullness in my pussy and then and only then to slowly move taking that little bit more inside and then that bit more moving faster until I give up that last little bit of control to the other person.

They take over and push deeper into me. A chill passes across my skin before exploding into a soaring heat and then I am flying lost in the moment. My hand reaches down and rests on his arm, feeling the muscles in his forearm tighten with each long thrust as he pounds into me.

Completely theirs… lost and only to be found once again when they release me. Once I have been granted the most unbelievable orgasm with their fist deep inside, fingers moving, knuckles pushing against me turning this way and then that. My mind completely taken over with the thundering waves crashing down from my clit, my pussy pulsing grasping tightly around the wrist, my fingers gripping hold of the bed sheets as I fight to contain the groans of pleasure. And then as the orgasm slowly calms the slow release as I feel him begin to pull out, gasping as he nears the knuckles once more to the tight entrance trying to relax which is near impossible as the next orgasm starts to build…waiting until he has removed his fist from me and cumming all over again my clit aching from the strong pulses that show no sign of stopping.

And that is why no matter what others think I love fisting….

x