“Elf, darlin’, fist-fuck me.”
This is nothing like what I might have expected as a morning greeting. “Vas?”
“You heard me. I told you someday, and someday is here. Make me yours, as I have made you mine.”
Mein Gott, he means it! He seriously wants my hand up his ass. All of a sudden, I am nervous about this.
“My fingers – the nails – I could do damage –“
“You won’t, darlin’. But if you do, I’ll heal, as always. I’m takin’ much less of a chance with you than you took letting me inside you.” He smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk you through it, if you’ve never done it before.”
“Vell, as a young boy, Herr Grüber had me do it to my customers a few times. But vhen I got older, no one vanted my hand inside them anymore.” I spread my fingers as far apart as they can go, displaying my thick fingernails.
“I guess they didn’t! But I can survive a lot more damage than your customers could. I cleaned myself out real good, so you should be able to get your hand pretty far in.” I must still look as surprised as I feel, as he has to encourage me even further. “C’mon, Elf. It was you that asked if you could fist me, remember?”
His words are confident and sure, but the tone of his voice does not quite back them up.
“Vhen did you decide you vanted this?”
“A little while ago, while I was sitting here watching you.”
“Vhy?”
“I was watching you because you’re beautiful, darlin’, and I like looking at you. In case you haven’t noticed, it turns me on.”
“I have noticed. But that vas not my question. Vhy do you suddenly vant me to do this? There is more to it than you have said, nicht wahr?”
“I’m – well, I’m really not sure exactly.”
I sit up and stroke the side of his face with my hand. He is more upset than he is letting show. “Mein Schatz, are you certain you are ready for this?”
“Yeah. But I can tell you right now that I ain’t gonna like it.”
“Then vhy should ve do this?”
“Because I need to.”
His words make me realize that I need to also, but I am afraid I will not be able to do it well enough. Perhaps he feels the same way.
“All right, you have talked me into it.”
Logan reaches into the bottom drawer of his nightstand and comes up with a green nitrile glove like the one he used when fisting me. “Here. This will provide some protection for my delicate ass. If you can figure out how to get it on your hand, that is.”
I just smile. Opening my own nightstand, I take a pair of larger and heavier gloves out of the bottom drawer. They are meant for dishwashing, not medical procedures like the one Logan is offering me, but the sections for the fingers are much larger. It is also bright neon yellow. I have already tucked the third and fifth finger sections of the glove inside out, so I slide my own fingers into the remaining three sections fairly easily. I hold my hand up to show Logan, wiggling my fingers. “See? The color even goes vell vith my skin.”
“Why do I get the feelin’ that you’ve given this some thought already, darlin’, and you’re not nearly as reluctant as you sound?”
I duck my head and look at him from underneath my eyelashes. “Vell, I may have done that,” I reply coyly.
“Damn, Elf,” he says, laughing. “Sometimes I wonder who really is the top around here after all.”
I teleport directly into his lap with my legs wrapped around his waist and my ass pressing down on his erection. Before he can react, my arms are around his neck and my tongue deep into his mouth, taking advantage of his gasp of surprise. Then I pull away, grab a handful of his unruly hair, and jerk his head back.
“Lie down and spread your legs, mein Schatz, and I vill show you.” I am not quite so confident as I am pretending to be, but I do not want him to think he must tell me how to do this. As I discovered for myself when Logan did it to me, a big part of fisting depends on the bottom being able to have enough trust in his partner that he can let himself go and really get into what is happening. If he has to concern himself with what I am doing, it will not be as good. And I want so much for him to allow me to give him this pleasure, as he once did for me. I am not sure of how I myself will react, but I know how I want him to react: I want him to feel the same sort of absolute surrender that I felt.
He lets me push him back on the bed, where I prop him up on some pillows so I can more easily reach his anus. He looks at me with that shit-eating grin on his face that I love so much and says, “Have at it, Elf.”
His penis is already rigid and quivering, without any further touch from me but just because of his own anticipation. I must not disappoint him. I have already gotten the Crisco out of the box on my nightstand. As I slather the soft white goo generously onto my hand and his ass, I talk to him.
“Unlike that time you fisted me, I have not been taken by surprise. In addition to raking back through my memories of fisting adults in my childhood, I have also looked up information about it, both online and from books, because I knew this day vould come, sooner or later, and I vanted to be ready. I know I can not harm you no matter vhat I do, but that does not mean I vish to be careless and cause you pain.” I begin massaging his anus, while my other hand simply holds his hard cock lightly. “I vant to make you feel as intensely as you made me feel. I vant to touch your soul, as you touched mine. That is not something that can be done in ignorance.”
I insert a finger into him, confident that the glove safely blunts my nails. He opens easily to that, as I expect, but I push far in regardless, then withdraw and add my second finger. This is also not difficult for him to accommodate, but I work them around inside him, twisting and spreading my fingers. I add my thumb, sliding it right down the groove formed by my other two fingers, pushing my hand in deeper and stretching him more widely. My knuckles press against his sphincter now, but I encounter no real resistance. He is breathing deeply and regularly, eyes closed, mouth opening slightly as he inhales, head tilted back, looking both concentrated and relaxed, both at the same time.
I slide in easily, and am left with the ring of muscle gripping only my wrist. I am almost surprised to find my hand inside his body, it has happened so suddenly. I stare at the strange sight, trying to comprehend what I have done. It is so incredible and yet also entirely ridiculous. I feel as if I should laugh, but do not.
I am in him, not with my cock, which is accustomed to being enclosed in that way and is something intended for such a purpose, but with my hand, which is meant to touch and feel, explore and use. This is definitely more intimate, an act of conscious deliberation, not an instinctive reaction to sexual desire. I am almost afraid that I have dared to do such a thing. My hand is actually inside my lover.
But I must not let him think I am being hesitant. “Good. Very good,” I say, as if it happened just as I had expected it to. I clench my hand into a fist and hear him draw in a breath. I wiggle my fingers and he moans.