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How Fisting Turned Me From Daddy's Little Girl to a Wild Child

Finally, his whole hand was inside me, stretching me, making me feel a beautiful kind of tightness that I had never felt. No cock could do this to me, and I loved it. A few seconds later, his hand had formed into a perfect fist, and he gently moved it in, then out. I couldn't believe it. I was finally being fist-fucked like the biggest whore around.

couple preparing for fisting

All my life, I've been good, apart from a few minutes of madness, when everything changed. I'd just split up with my boyfriend of ten years. He was boring me. After years of great sex, I outgrew him. While he became lazy and unimaginative, something inside me kept developing. Without really understanding it, I was becoming what most people would call a total pervert. Images of bondage gear, PVC and gloryholes started to pass through my head at night. I started watching porn videos when he was away. Sooner or later it had to end, so I just left him a note and moved to another town. Almost as soon as I found a room, I met Dan in a bar. Or at least, he said his name was Dan. It didn't matter. It could have been anyone. One thing led to another, and he seemed like a nice guy, so we ended up going back to his apartment. I had a good feeling about him. He was confident, successful, direct and wouldn't mess me around. Little did I know, but he was also a complete monster in the bedroom.

Our Relationship Becomes More Complicated Thanks to Fisting

At first, we just fucked. Then Dan started to experiment with me. I was totally willing to submit to anything. Something inside me had switched, and I had gone from wanting a normal sexual relationship to demanding more. Only it wasn't me doing the demanding. Dan loved to try new things. Whether it was rimjobs, oral, roleplays, outdoor sex or uniforms, he'd always inject something new and sexy into our relationship, and I would play whatever role he wanted. Then, one night started to call the shots. We were in bed and Dan was playing with me as normal. He had small fingers that could play me like a classical guitar, and he always knew how to turn me on. But tonight, it wasn't working. So I tried something new. "Dan," I said, "give me your hand." He did as I asked him, unsure of where I was going. I took his hand and formed his fingers into a fist, then kissed his knuckles one by one. "Why not give it a try, honey?" I said, as sexily as possible, "it's time to go all the way." Dan's eyes lit up. This was new to him. He was a sexually experienced guy, but I sensed that he had never fisted a girl before. Now I was in control. It was all about what I demanded.

Fisting Takes me to the Heights of Sexual Pleasure

I'd never fisted before either. It's not something that people think about when they go to bed. For me, it was something I'd seen in porn movies, but I never thought I could give it a try. I wasn't even sure Dan's fist would fit inside my vagina, but I was desperate to give it a try. He moved his hand down between my legs and entered me again, making me soaking wet as he played with my labia. As he kissed me and worked the entrance to my vagina, I felt it expanding, ready to welcome something massive, something it had never received before. Dan seemed to realise this too, and he started adding more fingers to his probing. One, then two, three and four fingers were inside me, rubbing my most sensitive places, making me gasp with desire. Finally, his whole hand was inside me, stretching me, making me feel a beautiful kind of tightness that I had never felt. No cock could do this to me, and I loved it. A few seconds later, his hand had formed into a perfect fist, and he gently moved it in, then out. I couldn't believe it. I was finally being fist-fucked like the biggest whore around. From being daddy's little girl a few years ago, I'd graduated to serious fetishes with a sex mad guy. And it was all my doing. I had made Dan form the fist, and I had placed his hand over my vagina. It was magical.

Fisting Takes me to Places No Other Sexual Practice Can Reach

Before I made Dan fist me, I had no idea what it was like. Maybe I thought it would be uncomfortable or painful. I hadn't given it much thought at all. It was something other people did, not a good little small town girl like me. Now it was the most important thing in the world. As Dan fist-fucked me, an orgasm grew the like of which I had never imagined. It came slowly, with a kind of breathless tingling. You could feel it grow like a massive wave slowly emerging from the ocean, before becoming a roaring force of nature. This was completely new. Before, I had orgasms almost every night, but this was something else entirely. I screamed, wailed, cried out, I probably even wept. I demanded that he keep going, held his wrist tightly, prayed to God - all the things I'd seen porn stars doing as they were fisted. I thought they were acting. Now I knew they definitely weren't. Instead, they were just like me - fisting addicts who had discovered the most incredible sexual high around. When Dan finished and I exhaled, I knew that everything had changed. I'd grown up. I'd found my true sexual identity. From then on, I wouldn't be a slut like most of the girls around. I would be a fisting addict, surprising guys with my desires and teaching them things that never knew about women. It only took a moment, but when I formed Dan's hand into a fist, I became the woman I had dreamed about - the sexually adventurous free spirited girl who demanded and got what she wanted. Now, I might be a slave to my fisting addiction, but I'm always sexually satisfied, whoever I invite back for a party when the bar closes.

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