One time when my wife and I were fooling around, after she had stretched my bottom hole with her fingers and several large anal implements, including two dildos, a butt plug, a glass knobby thing, she then put her fingers back in. And then she put them in a little more and turned and twisted her wrist. Her ministrations caused me to involuntarily gyrate my hips and push toward her and my pushing toward her caused her to push more
So, there we were. I was twizzling my hips and pushing toward her and she was twisting and turning and pushing her pointed hand inside me.
And I think we were both kind of wondering how far this might go. I knew about fisting because I am much more well-versed in all-things kinky things than my wife. She was not familiar with fisting. In fact, she has never even heard the term or that putting a hand all the way inside of a bottom is a thing, but she knows that I have lots of kinks and she goes along with nearly all of them and she was halfway in anyway and she knows I think that “more is better” so she knew that I would like to push this thing a little more.
So, there we were. Got the picture? I’ll quickly bring you back up to speed on the visual—you’re welcome.
My hips are twirling and thrusting toward my wife and she’s got her fingers working their way into my bum and she’s pointing and pushing and twisting and turning her pointed hand . . . and suddenly, POP! Her knuckles skipped right past the ring and her hand was all the way inside my bum.
She looked at me and smiled. And her eyes said, "Did you feel that?"
And I looked at her and smiled. And my eyes replied, "Did you feel that?"
Yes, our eyes can talk to each other. Sometimes they carry on extended conversations without us even knowing, unless they strongly disagree on something. Then we hear about . . . or see it.
"Are you okay?" she asked, with her hand still lodged securely in me, wondering if we had ruptured anything.
"Yup, I’m fine. How's your hand?"
"Squished, but fine."
I kegeled to squeeze my bottom hole tight.
"Can you feel that?"
"Yup, I certainly can. Can you feel this?” She turned her hand so her thumb kissed and caressed my prostate
"Mmmmm, I’ll give you 30 minutes to stop that . . . or until I orgasm, whichever comes first."
Well, that was the first time she fisted me, sort of by accident because we both pushed a little beyond where we had been before.
And now her “pointed-hand” repeats this activity almost every time she plays with my bum, and it's always good, but the first time was the most impressive because we were both surprised when it happened.
We even purchased a pointed-hand replica of a woman’s hand and forearm. And we affectionately named her Kimberly and I have a crush on her, pun intended, because I crush her in my bum.
Kimberly lends us a hand, pun intended, when my wife’s wrist is a little tired of trying to reach my tonsils because I keep encouraging her to push farther in. Sometimes, Kimberly is suctioned to a wooden stool and points skyward and then bumward for insertion and then bellyward, , once inside.
.