Disclaimer: User-Generated Content with Erotic Material
The following story was submitted by a user and contains erotic content. It represents a personal fantasy or experience as told by the author. Tom Rocket’s explicitly distances itself from the content of this story and does not endorse or adopt any of the views or actions described. This publication is intended solely for the purpose of free expression and entertainment within the framework of our community guidelines.
I’ve always been into cocks and love getting fucked hard. As a city kid who grew up in Berlin, I never had any trouble finding suitable fuck buddies. After all, the capital is full of good clubs, and the gay community is known to be one of the liveliest in Europe, if not the world. So as a young gay man, I had plenty of choices and tried everything my imagination could come up with. I ended up sticking with one particular kink, and today I’m going to tell you why fisting became and still is the main theme of my sex life. I used to go out with friends a lot, hitting the various pubs, bars, and clubs, places like Busche, Berghain, and whatever else there was. We always ended up having great sex, which was probably because, at least according to my friends, I’m the kind of guy you don’t push out of bed. On one of these nights out, I met a guy who opened the door to the world of fisting for me. Markus, as I’ll call him, was a real man. A little older, gray-streaked hair, a hot body, and a slightly hairy chest—in other words, he had everything a man with a preference for older men could want. Later, it turned out that he had a huge cock in his pants, which he knew how to use, which can’t be said for all men. “Hey, sweetie, fancy a drink?” he asked me that evening, and I liked his deep voice. “Sure, why not,” I replied, and we got talking. As always, I let myself be persuaded by the guy to go to his apartment. I let my friends know and told one of them that I had sent him the address of my new acquaintance on his cell phone, just to be on the safe side. Unfortunately, you never know who you’re going to end up with, but Markus didn’t mind telling me where he lived. Because buses were running infrequently at that time of night, we treated ourselves to a taxi, and on the way there, I knew that it was going to be a hot night. “Come in and make yourself at home,” he said when we entered his apartment 30 minutes later. No sooner said than done, as soon as the door was closed, I threw myself at him, threw my arms around his neck, and pressed my tongue between his lips. Besides fisting, hot make-out sessions were my passion. While we were still kissing, Markus maneuvered me into his bedroom. My eyes widened when I spotted a sling attached to the ceiling in one corner. “Well, you’ve got everything a guy could want,” I said with a laugh and lay down in the sling for fun. “Are you into that?” asked my new acquaintance, and I nodded. “I’m no pro, but I think it’s pretty hot to be taken like that,” I replied. “Want to try?” he winked at me, and I started to undress, which was answer enough. He also began to take off his clothes. A dream body appeared, along with a cock wrapped in leather that already seemed to be quite stiff. “If you want, I can train with you a little,” he grinned, grabbed me, now naked, and lifted me back into the sling. What followed can only be described as extremely hot. I lay comfortably in the sling, my cock sticking up in the air, and he started sucking it so well that I let out a loud moan. “Lick me,” I said, and his tongue wandered to my asshole. First cautiously, then with more and more spit, he finally pushed his tongue into my ass and licked me like no one had ever done before. “Do you like fucking or do you let yourself be fisted?” Markus asked, and I answered with a nod. “I haven’t tried it yet, so take it slow,” I said decisively and let my head fall back again. The guy had everything you needed for fisting ready on a side table. He unscrewed the large can of fist butter and smeared it all over my ass. “Let’s get started with some fist training,” he said and began to carefully stretch my asshole with his now gloved fingers. First I felt one finger, then two, then three, and at some point I could feel the pressure as he tried to penetrate me with all his fingers, now pressed together at the tips. I took a deep breath in and out, tried to relax, and took a few sniffs of poppers. Suddenly, his hand was buried in my asshole. At first it was a little uncomfortable, but over time the pressure disappeared and a pleasant feeling spread through me. For me, this feeling is always a sign that I can let myself go and am “completely open” in the truest sense of the word. Markus was really good at what he was doing; he seemed to have done this many more times than I had. With each of his movements in and out, a feeling of happiness spread through me. The stimulation from his hand, the trust I had in him and the feeling of being in “good hands” made me hornier and hornier. I jerked off my cock, kept sniffing the poppers and eventually asked him to fuck me with his cock. He did me the favor, and his cock was truly gigantic. I didn’t really care about the size of cocks as long as the guy knew how to use it. But this cock was a particularly impressive piece of equipment. After the first “training session,” my asshole was properly stretched, so his huge thing didn’t bother me anymore. He was able to slide his cock into me without any problems and then fucked me really hard. His orgasm was huge, and he squirted his cream all over my body. My cum was really small in comparison, although the load was enough to squirt all over my face during orgasm. After this session, which lasted until morning, we made plans for the next weekend, and he promised me that my fist training wasn’t over yet. The following week, I couldn’t think of anything else but Markus’ hand in my ass, and the thought made my cock rock hard. As agreed, I rang his doorbell the following Friday evening and he said I knew the way. When I got upstairs, the apartment door was already open and Markus was leaning against the doorframe. “Well, ready for the second training session?” he grinned at me. “Always, I couldn’t think of anything else all week,” I replied and stepped inside. As he pushed me through the hallway, he said, “Did I mention that I’m throwing a party tonight?” Cool, I thought, there’ll be lots of hot guys and an exciting evening ahead of me. Sure enough, the living room was full of guys, all good-looking and, most importantly, almost naked. Only then did I notice that Markus was also wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy shorts. “I think I’m a little overdressed,” I said with a laugh and asked Markus where I could leave my clothes. He took me to a guest room where I took off all my clothes except for my jockstrap. Scantily clad, I went back to the living room, where the other guests looked me up and down. “This is Philipp,” Markus said, winking at the others and telling them to be friendly and behave themselves. What followed over the next few hours was more than just fist training, it was a real orgy. It started with two of the guests taking me between them and, while we were talking on the sofa, they started caressing me, playing with my nipples and massaging my cock with their hands. We started making out, which turned me on even more, so at some point I asked them if we wanted to fuck. “Just fuck?” one of them laughed and then said, “Markus said you need a little practice with fisting.” All right, at that point I knew where the evening was headed. It seemed to have been arranged with the host that the bedroom was available, and so the three of us found ourselves there shortly afterwards. I let one of them lift me onto the sling and made myself comfortable there. I didn’t have to take anything else off, so one of them started licking my ass thoroughly and fingering me carefully. Meanwhile, the other one helped himself to the side table, pulled on a glove, reached boldly into the jar of fist butter, and then began to pamper my asshole. The other one ran around the sling and pushed his hard cock into my throat. Amid loud moans and extensive cock sucking, the one with the glove slowly and skillfully pushed his hand into my ass, carefully turning and pressing. That feeling when a hand penetrates deeper and deeper, pressing lightly against the intestinal walls and stimulating them through friction, is actually indescribable. You have to experience it. That night, the training didn’t just consist of taking one hand, but two. The guy who fisted me was apparently a complete pro. He skillfully placed his hands and arms together and guided them into me. My sphincter had long since given up any resistance, I had replaced the poppers bottle with a breathing mask, which was also on the side table, and so this time my ass was not only trained by one hand, but by two. The two took turns, and when one fisted me, the other got a blowjob until the end. When both had relieved themselves, Markus entered with a stranger, and these two also had their fun. I don’t even remember exactly how many hands I had inside me during this fist training, but it was definitely mega hot. I’m still in contact with Markus today, and I’m now a real pro when it comes to passive fisting. Thanks to that evening in the bar and meeting Markus, I’m now part of a large and active (funny, right?) community. We meet regularly for fist parties where people can have fun with me. Every now and then, I actively fuck myself, but I know why fisting only plays a passive role in my personal sex story. Nothing beats that endlessly horny feeling you get from passive fisting. I did try it as the active partner once, but then decided to stay on the passive side.
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