Open Me Up

For me fisting is one of the hottest, more intimate, sexual acts out there.  To trust a partner enough to relax, to open wide, to envelop them within you – to cradle them tight and deep and incredibly slickly – is an act of such mindfulness that I have done it with very few people.

Fisting isn’t quite as it sounds (any more than a blow-job is!) – but the name puts many people off trying it. I think that’s a shame, because the sensations – both as the fistee and the fister – are amazing.

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Fisting Me Gently

I love being fisted. It doesn’t happen too often – it takes a long time, a lot of lubricant, and a very persuasive hand – but the sensation of being filled beyond full, where every flex and movement and stretch of muscle translates itself across my body, is delicious.

I have only ever been fisted successfully by Apollo. Which is not so say I haven’t had a lot of fun trying with other partners! Hylas with his (comparatively) enormous hands has never gotten past four fingers, but it’s a blast getting that even that far. Apollo, though, has hands smaller than my own – and that means sometimes we’ll come home from work on a warm Friday afternoon, slide out of our clothes, and relax on the bed with our end-of-week Gin and Tonics and our delight in each other. Those afternoons are our Fisting Dates.

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