Fisting — Perverted Experimenters
A joke came to mind—"At first, the cat was afraid of the vacuum cleaner, but then—nothing, it got hooked."
Moreover, my wife was initially afraid that by developing my asshole, she might lose me as a partner, thinking I might turn gay. But I'm confident in myself—I'm HETEROSEXUAL, it's just that my asshole is an additional erogenous zone that constantly aches in the perineum from unusual desires for sexual intimacy. Otherwise, you could call a girl who likes anal gay—it's just not for everyone.
My wife has wide hips, a giant pear-shaped ass, a very deep vagina, and a hand fits wonderfully in it. We've developed it so much that even two hands can pass through, and my asshole is no smaller—so between the two of us, we have three holes, all roughly equally developed. At the same time, at rest, all openings are pleasantly tight, muscles toned, and nothing gives away that when needed, the holes can be wide. During fisting, there's incredible stimulation of the walls and everything inside—the orgasm is insane! And nothing feels loose after fisting.
I'm standing doggy-style; this time, my wife decided to spice things up by playing with my asshole using meat products. She bought various sausages, wieners, frankfurters, etc., at the supermarket. I even asked why so many. Turns out, she specifically took different sizes and diameters to work on developing my asshole during another training session, as the anus often serves as an alternative to a stretched vagina—it's fun to play and entertain with. The well-lubricated hole, anticipating entry, internally quivered and demanded something to be pushed deep inside immediately. The anus, still tight and neat, gladly accepted my wife's fingers, which applied lube along the contour with soft, gentle movements from the periphery to the center and light penetration inside. That's how we gradually prepare the sphincter for another honeymoon night. It'll get more intense later, but delicacy is always necessary.
I insert an ordinary wiener into my husband's asshole; the tip sticks out. I command, "Tighten your asshole." He tries, once, and a piece of the wiener breaks off. Well done, great job training those butt muscles—even though there are no teeth, the gums are pretty good, and he quite easily cut it in two—cool, damn. I try two at once; he tenses up and cuts them again—well, more like crushes them with muscle strength. I insert one frankfurter (just a thicker wiener); he strains and again crushes it into two halves. I continue with two frankfurters; he squeezes, squeezes, doesn't succeed, but it's still cool. I pulled out the remains of the sausages that stayed inside after crushing—quite a thick little bag formed. A joke came to mind: "They say sausages help. Crush three kilos of wieners with your sphincter—consider yourself on the path to success. Champions crush carrots." TRAIN, squeeze, unclench, and then you'll calmly soar to seventh heaven even faster than now. From the pile, I chose the longest cheese sausage, about 50 cm, but quite thin in girth. It's fairly flexible, not stiff, with rough edges and strings at the ends.
I see on the laptop screen how a flexible stick pierces my anal, the string of the sausage diving into my insides and slowly, with a twisting motion, advancing deeper. A feeling of fullness emerged—an unusual strap-on. My wife is having fun; the size isn't big, but quite rough and a bit stiff compared to rubber helpers. It goes in calmly; half is already inside, twisting, overcoming bends, but then it finally hits a stop. My wife is thrilled; I'm already feeling great from the unusualness of such an action—indescribable sensations. She starts moving it back and forth, making thrusts—first with small strokes, then almost full insertion, speeding up more and more, periodically adding lube. It moves like a piston in a cylinder—pleasantly, damn—warmth and pleasure from the triggered orgasm spread throughout my body. She played around, caught a bit of pleasure herself; I see she's enjoying the external view of my asshole. She left the sausage half sticking out of my exhaust pipe, stepped back, admired it. After fisting, the hole will tighten up and be elastic and tight again.
She stopped in the upper position, slightly bent upward, pushing, resisting a bit literally millimeter by millimeter, pushed it further. Everything sits tightly; it won't bend—the diameter is too big. Two different-caliber sausages stick out like pipes—beautiful. This is when we started stretching the ass, measuring diameters, and brought it to a state where it opens so beautifully and enticingly, only with a smooth ring of anus. And now, his wrecked anus is stretched lengthwise like the number 0, and after fisting ends, it will be a real anal pussy. I like it to the point of terror, and he's not against such mutual relaxation. The hole became like a slit; we started with 4.5, then 5.2, and off we went—now we've reached 10 cm. After extracting the last object, it looks like a HOLLOW surrounded by a crater of swollen lips. And mine has an even cooler view of my genital slits—in a calm, undeveloped state, they're tight, of course, slightly stretched openings, but when my husband works on them, there are two vaginas side by side. Practically indistinguishable in size, my anal hole looks like another pussy with recreated labia. My husband long ago promised to gift me two candelabras from both holes—he kept his promise.
I remembered that I got carried away and forgot about his member—not good. My husband said we have three vaginas between us, but he completely forgot that there are three smaller holes for both of us. We use them too, but more rarely. His urethra in his dick is quite well-developed, and any of my fingers goes in freely. I found the smallest wiener, dipped it in lube, and pulling back the already tired member that had stopped ejaculating sperm, turned it face (the glans) toward me. He tensed a bit, but there was no strength for a full erection.
My husband's pleasure center had completely switched to anal orgasm. Poking my little finger into the oblong slit of the canal, I penetrated a bit inside, lubricated it; my husband didn't object—on the contrary, he purred a little from pleasure. Lubricating the entrance, I started screwing in the thin wiener; it went in calmly for a few centimeters. I stepped back to admire—probably only WE like such debauchery (or maybe not), but damn, it's cool. Sticking out of the ass in different directions are sausage sticks; the dick hangs down, and a meat stick sticks out of it too.
I twisted the second sausage in the ass; the first one sticks out in the center like a 45mm gun barrel. I pushed it past the bend of the intestines—it wouldn't go further, lacking flexibility. With my index finger, I pulled the rim of the anus, checked the gaps on the sides, took a third sausage just like the first but shorter, and pushed it into the gap between my fingers. I see how the string dived inside (she likes watching the string; she specifically chose ones without aluminum clips, only strings). A bit tight, but tolerable. I moved the whole trio around and started pushing the third sausage past the bend, through the second sphincter. Tight—slowly and carefully, I finally found the entry point, a little bit, and pushed it to the level of the second sausage. My sensations—wonderful; an orgasm sharper and longer than during regular sex hit me again.
I finally remembered the dick—otherwise, it's lonely and doesn't want to cum—nothing left, it's already used up its sperm reserve. Skillfully spreading the oblong exit canal with my little finger, I started screwing in a small wiener. Soft, somewhat elastic, it freely overcame resistance, went inside. I tensed the muscles, and after lowering it like a weight, I pulled the member down—cool and pleasant, damn. She's shaking from the work done; her eyes feverishly shine—I love when she's in this state, good girl. With both hands, I grabbed the whole still life and gave a little jerk—CLASssss. Now three barrels stick out of my asshole, hanging in different directions; the dick tenses from inside and is pulled down by the wiener sticking out of it. In the opened triangle, the pink wall of the intestine is clearly visible. I admired it; she continues stuffing the ass, increasing and stretching the diameter. Three frankfurters went into the large gaps. Six wieners went into the small gaps along the contour and between the large sausages. Good thing they're soft; the last one was pushed in with difficulty—they'd already started getting crushed by my toothless anus. CLassss. When it became unbearable from tension, I say, "Stop, machine, not going further."
Yes, fisting is a pleasant thing—I adore inserting various objects into my husband's anus and moving them around, spreading waves of orgasm through the nerve endings, making him twitch, emit some inarticulate sounds—something between grunting and moaning. M-m-m-m... Practice has shown that for me, this hole is more interesting and offers more possibilities. Had great fun; my pussy even shot off from pleasure, orgasm after orgasm, but the excitement hasn't faded yet. I pulled out the small sausage products from his ass. On the table remained large sausages like doctor's sausage. Just very thick in diameter—I'll try. The thickest one, slightly bent sideways and shaped like an intestine, is wrapped at regular intervals with thread. The size is impressive; a thought crosses my mind—will it fit? Where else would it go? Our limit is 12 cm in diameter; here, perhaps even a bit more, but it's not a glass jar—it's still a soft stick. I add lube inside the asshole and thoroughly coat the sausage, press it against my husband's volcano, and start pushing, tucking it inside. The blunt end resists, but with extra effort, slightly twisting, it slowly sinks inside a few centimeters. With small movements, persistent effort, gently and tenderly, forward then back, I start pushing it in. My husband groaned but endures; the sausage's contour, from round, started deforming into oblong, squeezing into the shape of the number 0—after all, the asshole is developed more vertically than in width. I pushed it to the stop—hard to believe such a size can be pushed inside.
My husband is panting; stars dance before my eyes. I start thrusting; two hands don't even close around this club. My husband opened up completely toward me, flew off, and is tripping. I played enough, satisfying him and myself. Quite sharply, I pull out my tool. I like the view at this moment of this aromatic, big-holed ass—admired the gape (from English "gape"—hole, slit, breach).
Words came to mind: "In such a HOLE, a whole person would get sucked in during the heat of passion, and the unified Rescue Service would hesitate, then have to pull them out." The sensation is that the ass is simply boundless and bottomless. During fisting, everything stretches, and it's wide for the man too. Loving fisting is quite a strong self-denial. We all love to lie down and receive pleasure. After good fisting, your hands cramp from the effort. After all, you can't stop just because you're tired. If the partner's arousal subsides, you'll have to start all over.
Our largest anal plug is 12 cm, and the remaining loaf of sausage will probably be even bigger, though it's soft. I watch on the screen as my wife generously pours lube on my hole. She pressed it—visually, it won't fit, so now it'll be uncomfortable and maybe even painful. I relaxed; something unfamiliar, large, just a sewer pipe advances into my rear. Good thing the tool is soft; the sausage spread along the inner contour and maximally filled all space—tight, damn, but tolerable. I opened my eyes and started catching pleasure. From the reciprocating movements in my ass—bliss, damn. During a pause, an incomparable view opens—a curved sausage, slightly flattened at the entrance, resembling a defective tank barrel sticking out of my anus. After playing and satisfying me with another wave of pleasure, she extracted the club.
She commanded a flip and laid me on my back on our fucking chair, spread my legs and fixed them so I wouldn't hold them. Left the wiener in the dick—looks cool; it's longer than his tiny little boy and looks like an extension hanging sideways and down. His ass easily stretches over a 10 cm bumpy plug; I decided to continue the game with hands. The anus by this time looks like a well-stretched anal pussy, enticing with its debauched appearance and highly arousing. I took a long sausage stick, waved it with both hands. Damn, looks like a blunt samurai sword. Holding the end with both hands, I carefully tuck the tip of the sword into the swollen crater of the anus; the string cheerfully hid inside. I push—it goes easily; I twist a bit—the bending 50-centimeter sausage, resisting slightly, confidently advances inside. Holding it like a two-handed sword, I continue pushing, and now the hand gripping the stick has passed inside with it; the second hand got stuck in the middle—two fists one after another simply don't fit in this shithole, and the edges of the hands get in the way. My husband is tripping; I start cleaning with such a long ramrod with a hefty thickening at the end in the form of fists.
I change the entry elements, placing the right hand against the left, and slowly push the second hand in—it goes; roof slates fly off in whole packs—such action drives you wild. How beautiful my man is—a person who entrusted his soul, essence, and his body. You forget yourself and flow in a stream of nirvana.
She turned me, we changed positions; again, I catch pleasure because fisting is the highest bliss—a feeling that overflows you from inside when my wife's hand is in my ass—it's something unforgettable. First, with a long saber, she pierced my insides, and at the end, she tried and succeeded in pushing it in along with her hand. Then the magical little fist began ramming my pleasure centers through the leathery volcano of the anus—I'm flying off, unreal bliss when you feel a female hand "there," and don't forget about such a delight as double penetration. The ass stretches easily, effortlessly; my wife is a fine specialist in enhanced expansion and perforation of my delightful flowing hole. She reasonably slows to a complete stop, waits a bit for the spasms inside me to pass, and again starts accelerating. She extracts both hands, folds them in a lock, and with a squelching sound, pushes through the barrier of the anus—an incredible feeling when it seems you're bursting from inside, you try to relax completely. Hands in a lock freely slip through like into a barrel. Oh, I love this kind of pleasure. Though they don't go far. She starts making reciprocating movements, driving both hands in a two-stroke engine mode, stirring the juices inside me. She simply trips from this and squeaks with pleasure. Gently and carefully, she listens to my reaction to her actions—after all, fisting is like a dessert with its own sensations of something especially sweet. My wife brings me to complete ecstasy with her movements—it's magnificent; for me, it's like a gift, a wonderful, sweet surprise. Preliminary development of the rectum was finished long ago, and by mutual agreement, we sail together on waves of pleasure, masturbating anally—there's a chance to taste plenty of interesting and new things. Oh, yes!!! Super!!! Mind-blowing!!! I really like it!!! Cool!!! Top-notch!!!
Author Serge Pogorely