1. Addicted to Fist


    Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Gay Male, Author: klammer, Rating: 60, Source: xHamster

    ass twice before finally putting it away on the table. He held a bottle of poppers under my nose and told me to take a big hit, which I eagerly did. &#034Gentleman,&#034 he announced, &#034I will now take total possession of this slave with my fist. When I am inside him, I will own his body, his heart, and his soul. He will depend on me for his very breath. Because I will own him. I will fist him beyond his ability to comprehend what is real and what is fantasy. I will become his God.&#034 I was flying so high on the poppers and the C by now, I didn't fully comprehend what he had just said. I just knew I was ready and hungry for his fist inside me. &#034Please, Sir&#034 I groaned and squirmed. &#034Please give me your fist, sir.&#034 &#034Do you give yourself up to me, boy?&#034 he demanded loudly. &#034Do you give me your ass and your soul, pussy boy?&#034 &#034Oh yeahhhhhh, yes sir!&#034 I shouted. &#034Yeah this is your ass, this is your body, this is your soul, SIR!&#034 He gave me virtually no warning as his hand thrust itself into my gaping open hole, pushing itself to the peak of his knuckles almost immediately. I gasped in combined pleasure and pain and tried to thrust my asshole into his fist for even more. &#034Fucking CUNT!&#034 he yelled as he roughly plunged his fist at my hole, trying to gain entrance without much, if any, preliminaries. Hell, we both knew that the rough fucking he'd just given me had been all the foreplay I'd need. &#034FUCKING FIST!&#034 I ...
    yelled as his hand plunged all the way to the wrist in one brutal stroke. &#034AAHHHHHHH!&#034 I screamed as he twisted his hand from side to side inside me. He wasn't remotely gentle. He acted like he wanted to hurt me this time. His face showed a determined meanness that cared about nothing other than pleasuring his own brutal instincts and showing off for the captivated audience. But I was already in heaven. &#034FIST ME, SIR!&#034 I shouted. &#034FUCKIN FIST ME HARD, SIR! PLEASE!&#034 He responded by pushing his hand further inside me, going past his wrist and now towards his muscled forearm. I groaned loudly and must have tightened up. Seconds later he stuck the bottle of poppers under my nose once again. I took several deep snorts and closed my eyes as he rammed his arm a few more inches deep inside me. It was once again indescribably pleasurable as his fingertips wiggled inside me, eliciting nerve functions that I'd had no clue about until the previous weekend. Now I was feeling them again and going bonkers on the fact that not only was he deep fisting me, he was doing it in front of all these men whose gasps and sighs and whispers told me they were thoroughly enjoying the show. &#034More, Sir!&#034 I moaned. &#034I need MORE, SIR!&#034 I yelled. &#034YOU!&#034 Jim yelled at a man near the front. &#034Get up here!&#034 I opened my eyes as a hard bodied 30-something man wearing a leather harness, a massive hardon, and nothing else jumped on the platform. &#034Your job is ...
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