Carla wasn’t my first experience with deep pussy fisting, but she is the most memorable.
Here’s how we arrived at me giving her a deep pussy fisting.
I first see Carla in my yoga class. She starts flirting with me, or I with her. It doesn’t take much for us to eye each other in our yoga pants. One day, I spread open my legs in too-tight pants. Her response is to lick her lips and spread her own, claiming she’s doing some complicated move that escapes me.
Honestly, once I see the outline of her labia, I’m hooked. She knows it.
After class, she meets me by my truck, and it doesn’t take long before we slip inside it. Her legs wrap around my face in the darkness of my truck. I’m licking her through her pants, able to taste how wet she is on the fabric alone. She manages to lift up her hips and drag her pants off; I slip my head underneath so as not to get caught.
As I put two fingers inside her, wetness dripping down my wrist, I put my mouth on her clit. It takes only a flick of my tongue before she’s shouting and clamping down on my fingers. Suddenly my face is sprayed with wetness. Her loud panting fills the interior of my truck, echoing off the leather interior.
“So, that was a thing,” she says, once she’s able to breathe normally.
The Proposal
“So how do you feel about fisting?” Carla asks me a few weeks later. To give an idea of the scene, we’ve hooked up many times. We’re in a hotel room, and after a few rounds of us finger banging pussies, we’re both looking for something more. We’re both drinking some wine from the hotel glasses, extra towels piled on the side of the bed.
“Like for me, or for you?” I ask. I’ve not been fisted before, and I’m not sure I could take her fist. I stare at her nails, and she laughs.
“You fisting me. You’ve got short enough nails. Won’t scrape me. I love the feel of something stretching me out,” she confesses and then downs her wine. Next, she shimmies down to my lap, opening her legs. Her soaked kitty is on display, nice and red from stimulation, clit peeking out of the hood. I stroke it a little, putting my wine glass down on the side table, adjusting my hips to really fuck her.
“Yes, Elise. Fuck yes,” she pants. So, I slide two fingers inside her. Wet gushes out of her hole, and I use that to slick up my hand again. A third finger and she’s tight, still. I move in my pinkie.
Before long, I’ve moved my thumb under my middle finger, and she’s taking my hand. I twist my hand to get the bump of my thumb knuckle in, to stretch her pussy just a little. It takes only a moment before she’s gasping and I can close a fist inside her.
I thought I’d be finger banging pussies. But, I am instead deep pussy fisting.
Need To Go Deeper
So there I am with my hand inside Carla’s pretty pink pussy. The same pussy that’s squeezing my hand, like it wants me even deeper. I’m surprised by how tight she still is. Her insides are super warm and soft, gripping my hand like the inside of a mouth. Muscles clench and massage my hand. And her insides only get tighter as I begin to stretch out my fingers, as I try to move into her sweet little womb.
Her opening grips my wrist, wide around it while I push myself, centimeter by centimeter, inside. I can see a bulge in her pelvis where my hand stretches her out. Other than that, I drink in the sight of her. Sweat drips down her breasts and onto her stomach. She grips her sheets tightly in her hand, pulling parts of the fitted sheet off her mattress. The entire room is hazy with lust, from the wetness of sweat and slick to the cloying smell of her pussy.
Carla pants as I move my hand a little deeper, knuckles brushing against her cervix. She whines, lifting her ass up. Instinctively, she’s trying to get me as deep as possible.
Really, she’s such a needy slut. So it’s no surprise when I brush my knuckles against a tight knot of muscle that something warm squirts onto my arm. Her body shakes and I smile, giving her a little more deep pussy fisting while she orgasms.
Honestly, her orgasm moans are gorgeous. I don’t regret a thing.
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