Fisting

A year ago a male friend asked me to fulfill a strap-on fantasy for him - which is another story for another time - and during the aftercare he asked if I had any unfulfilled fantasies. I said I wanted to try fisting. It was something that I was fascinated by and terrified of at the same time. This friend had the most skilled hands I had ever encountered, so he felt like a safe person to try it with. He found a local workshop that taught the mechanics of vaginal fisting and we made plans to go.

I was married at the time. We were polyamorous, but he was disturbed by the idea. He was upset that I had never mentioned this desire to him, that I wanted to share this first with someone other than him, and that I felt a fisting workshop was an appropriate second date. He was even more upset when I told him I was considering asking to volunteer as the demo. It was a huge argument and I ended up cancelling.

Weeks later I still wanted to try it. I was worried about letting my partner being the one to do it, but figured that as long as we went slowly, weren't goal oriented, and did a lot of checking in that it would be fine. We kept a copy of "The Whole Lesbian Sex Book" next to us - open to the fisting section - the entire time.

We used big globs of lube. His hand was a perfect duck bill, palm up. We worked everything in up to that last thumb knuckle and it was such an intense, burning stretch - and then it was in. His fingers curled into a fist and he slowly began to move. It was the most beautiful sensation I had ever felt and I started to cry. They were happy tears and I felt like I was releasing something very deep and old. I felt open - emotionally and physically, exposed, overwhelmed, and unable to do anything other than to focus on keeping the pelvic floor relaxed and taking everything in. I was glad that I had chosen to do this with my partner in such a safe space.

Fisting is now a very regular part of my sex life. I am fucked with a fist far more often than a penis or dildo. It is the most reliable way to bring me to orgasm and I am grateful for it. But as often I am fisted I have never been able to duplicate the emotional high of that first experience.

Attraction is a Moving Target

I was at a large pagan convention on Saturday. Boyfriend and I sat down with a group of people we knew to have dinner. I was next to a very gender-queer individual. This person was dressed in a corseted green velvet Renaissance-style gown with high heeled boots and had a full, bushy beard and mustache. The multiple, conflicting gender cues and the fact that this person was clearly interested in me was appealing. I had a lot of fun ordering the person to kneel on the ground to give deep, hard neck bites in the lobby as non-pagans who just happened to be at the hotel on an odd weekend looked on in confusion.

So, gender-queer person (GQP) and I wandered outside with a beautiful trans woman that I had been in play space with before, but had never really interacted with. She seemed interested in me too. The idea of a threesome with me, hot trans woman (HTW), and large-breasted/bearded/corseted GQP suddenly seemed very appealing. Just the intersection of so many types of queer sexual orientation/gender identification - in addition to being the most "masculine" one involved while still being the only cis-gendered female in the threesome - made it seem like an experience that I needed to make happen.

We found a cuddly proto-orgy happening in one of the hotel rooms. I got naked and started giving people massage to join in. Soon GQP was down to bra and fake breasts, I was hair-pulling and biting, HTC started to get involved - but then lost interest. I told GQP to leave bra on, but it eventually came off. Suddenly, I realized that the hairy legs I had caught a glimpse of under the dress peeking over the tops of the boots that had been SUCH a turn-on were no longer appealing now that GQP looked like any other naked hairy man. Kissing became uncomfortable. I had no interest in anything other than giving pain and sensation play. Luckily GQP was very subby and seemed completely okay with it. Even interest in that was fading after a while and I was glad when the other couple left in the room asked us to give them some private space and I had an excuse to get dressed and leave. I felt incredibly shallow as I realized that if the dress had stayed on I would have willingly - HAPPILY - done so much more. Attraction can be so arbitrary. Or maybe that's just me!

Later that same night I was part of another cuddly threesome with the same HTW and a gorgeous cis-gendered woman (CGW) that, up until that very moment, I thought I had not been attracted to. As she invited me to cuddle with her and told me how much she appreciated my presence I realized that what I thought was lack of attraction had actually been fear of rejection. She is very stereotypically beautiful in that head-cheerleader kind of way, incredibly intelligent, and I didn't expect her to invite me into her circle. CGW, HTW and I spent most of the next two days together sharing, bonding, and I think it ended up being a very healing experience for all of us. Sex and sensuality blended into just holding and loving.

Such a contrast. To have the first experience end within hours of the second one beginning has made the lesson even clearer to me: I need to slow down and listen more to what is right in the moment instead of trying to create what I think I want. I need to reserve judgement of others and stop assuming that I know how they feel about me.