Memorial Day

Her name was Anna. She's a cute brunette, also a sex blogger, in town visiting Jefferson. She and I took a bath together, and I washed her. Then we had sex.

At one point I had several fingers in her, and I was rubbing her clit. Before I knew what was going on, four of my fingers were in past the knuckle, and she didn't seem to be having any problem with it. Jefferson supplied the lube and rubbed it on my hand, then I brought my thumb in and carefully wrapped my fingers down into a fist, worrying about her cervix as my nails scraped her insides. But eventually, I managed to get my entire fist into her.

I had never fisted anyone before, she had never been fisted successfully before. Two cherries popped.

After she came we all jokingly compared hand sizes, and I suggested to her that she have a go at me. This proved harder for me, as fisting always has. I was fine and dandy in the beginning, I laughed and joked. But this did not last for long.

As Anna got more and more of her hand inside of me, my breathing became labored. I stopped breathing a few times, and Jefferson had to remind me to breath, he coached me, encouraging me to inhale and exhale. Periodically he would check and see how much we had in. Finally, when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, we had almost her entire hand up inside of me, down to the part where the hand narrows into the wrist. She slowly pulled out, and we looked at her hand, and I lay there for a long moment, unable to move.

I had trouble walking to the bathroom afterwards, but I managed, and feeling more than a little tender, crawled back onto Jefferson's bed, and he and I fucked for a bit before I had to leave to go home.

Memorial day had never been more memorable.