Fist of July

July 4th. Happy treason day, colonials! Every year on this day I write a letter to the Queen of England and beg her to take back the colonies. So far, no response. Today I never got around to my letter writing, instead my boyfriend spent the better part of the day using me as a hand-warmer. We have discovered there’s next level orgasms to be had in the fisting game and all we had to add to the equation was my Hitachi magic wand. I’ve had sex on drugs, I know what the rest of the world is missing when they’ve never had a 5 hour bang sesh on LSD, or an 8 hour rolly-polly time on E. This is better than all of that, and accessible while sober. I never really feel the desire to get high and bang again; I’ve found Nirvana. Today in particular it was especially life changing.

For starters, since we both had the day off, we dicked around all day not doing anything of substance. He played Final Fantasy 15, I got insulted on Tinder, we met in the middle and he gave me a mani/pedi. Such a sweet boy. After they dried he tells me it’s time, he would like to bury his face in my beautiful pussy. I’m in. I love how he licks me and sucks on my hood piercing so expertly. Sometimes I post a pic of the top of his head between my legs on Snap… one time in such a pic, Tim Curry could be seen in the background staring judgey daggers into me from Muppet Treasure Island. MIND YA BUSINESS, SIR. Today though, I became the Muppet. Call me Sweetums.

He performs oral on me on a couch in the living room, then disappears and comes back after saying “stay just like that.” My legs in the air, Cheshire cat grin on my face, beaming with orgasm afterglow. He plugs my Hitachi into the wall, and lubes his hand. He has a technique that can’t be beat when it comes to hands in the ham wallet- with one finger inserted palm down he pushes down on the bottom wall inside my vagina… this gives me the sensation of being penetrated by a much larger object; the feeling of “full.” Palm up he inserts one or two fingers from his other hand and gently strokes my gspot. Essentially it feels like getting plowed by a big dick hitting all the right spots, without hitting the back. My cervix is Clint Eastwood giving you the eye. He brings me to orgasm once again; I am properly warmed up and ready for the puppet show. Now is the time to add more lubricant to the whole hand, like you’re greasing up about to stuff a turkey, and I get myself in the right head-space to breathe through any discomfort. I’m still adjusting to this activity, but the key to its success is pretty simple. Arousal + foreplay + lubricant. There’s also a twisting motion that helps to ease in, each gentle push and twist gets a little bit further in until he reaches the promised land.

Once his hand is all the way inside he’ll close his fist and gently add pressure while stroking my gspot with his knuckles. It’s a tight fit but I can manage. Placing the Hitachi directly onto my genital piercing I hit the switch for  the lower of two settings. Instant electricity runs through my body connecting my clit to the pleasure center in my brain. My muscles around his fist tighten like a vice. The penis fly trap has closed around its victim. He’s moving his hand in a gentle stroking motion, but just barely. Most of the work is already done, he doesn’t have to do much at all. Pretty sure my eyes started rolling back immediately but absolutely now I’m staring into the memory of every orgasm I’ve ever had previously, and they’re garbage in comparison. I can’t hear my wailing over the sound of the vibration running through my whole body, but I know I’m singing whale songs to the neighbors. The orgasm hits me like waves crashing into my actual soul, rising up into a crescendo of nonsense. How does it keep going!? Am I even cumming at all or does it just feel that good!? Each wave is stronger than the last; I’m belting out a flat-pitch scream until I run out of breath. When I lose my breath for a moment, I feel the orgasm receding. He slowly pulls his hand out of me while I breathe heavily and focus on trying to control it. The knuckles in my hands and toes ache from clenching, I’m splayed out awkwardly across the couch like I got in a fight with gravity- pretty sure I lost, too. My back is sharply arched but I am just now aware of it as I begin to relax and release tension all over. I feel the giggles rise up within me as I’m floating on happy brain chemicals- but also pure, unadulterated awe. That rolling orgasm was so wonderfully new and intense I tasted colors- they were shiny. Then I notice my eyes are welling up uncontrollably.

Fuck, shit, god damn it. Stop crying after life-changing sexual encounters you pussy! Boyfriend is immediately understanding and informs me what I’m experiencing is a totally normal physical and emotional response after a particularly intense orgasm, because of where those things are located in the brain. I’m not bawling, but I am weeping in awe like I just met Jesus Christ himself and he said I could wash my laundry on his abs. That was some other-dimensional shit I just felt. Do I even need to try DMT at this point, how much more could I blast off? I lay there stunned in near silence for half an hour, playing on my phone while I recover. I’m on Tinder again, this time talking to an adorable sailor up here on leave visiting family one town over. He asks me what I’m up to, I give it to him straight: I’m recovering from the Earth-shattering, face-melting things my Main Piece just did to me with his fist and a vibrating thingy. Sailor is very, very happy I’m having such a good time. I’m feeling frisky, I invite him over to watch. Boyfriend doesn’t want to share me today, but he has no problems showing a young 20-something how to properly pleasure a woman with your whole hand. I’m an exhibitionist at heart, and I especially love to share new experiences if they bring me to complete ecstasy.

I pick up the sailor and bring him to the house on JBER. As soon as the boys meet they start talking military and tattoos. I get a good stare going on while they bro-out for a bit. I could not give less of a shit about what they’re discussing, but they seem happy so I’ll let it slide. Finally there’s a break in their man-babble; curtain call, the puppet show is about to begin! Boyfriend waives sailor over and step-by-step explains how to warm your female partner up before large insertion/fisting, then literally asks permission to demonstrate the technique on me. God, I really love him for that. I’m literally just here to get fisted in front of a stranger, and he still asks for consent instead of just shoving my legs apart and diving right in. I’m freshly shaved and showered, I know my downstairs is pristine and lovely, he attentively handles me with utmost intimacy while giving a live-action demo to a total rando. Once his hand is back inside me I grab my Hitachi and place it on my fun button. Flip the switch, countdown to what it must sound like to slaughter deaf sea lions, blast-off. I ride the wave all the way up, up, up, and over into the next dimension. My eyes rolled back so far I strained a muscle, but wouldn’t notice it until after I come back to Earth. Once again just screaming until I run out of breath, but this time no crying afterward- thankfully. The only time crying is appropriate is during sex, and on purpose. I take the sailor back home and we spend the rest of the evening in various stages of relaxed, or turning me up to 11.

We call this activity FisTachi. More than once he’s yelled WHO’S THE MUPPET NOW!? I’m calling it now, I’mma marry this man.

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