Last night, after visiting a fun munch, I came home to discover Sons 1&2 were out, and Son3 was already fast asleep. In our house, this magic alignment of the stars means only one thing: BOOM! Husband and I can make some noise.
We started out soft and slow: talking, caressing, and relaxing into each other on the bed. Since we were about to have sex, it was natural that our topic of conversation be sex related, and we shared a few nonsensical whimsies with each other, the kind of silly intimacies that fill you with a heightened sense of awareness about the other person. We got onto the subject of fisting, and I mentioned to him again I would love the opportunity to fist another woman. Now, I've mentioned this to him many times before; I wasn't telling him anything new. But for some reason, last night, this fact tapped his cerebral cortex. "If you really want to fist a woman," he said, "you could start with yourself." "That's not possible," I scoffed. "I can't fist myself." "I bet you can. You won't know unless you try." I paused for second to look at him. "Are you serious? You want me to fist myself?" "Absolutely!" As he bounded off the bed to get the lube, I realize he had taken my question of disbelief as a sign of enthusiasm. I was in for it now.
He set me up with a pillow under my butt, and ordered me to spread my legs. "I'm going to go first, to get you ready," he said. Gee, thanks, I thought. For the next few minutes, I didn't really think anything anymore, because I do like fisting, and Husband knows what he's doing. But I was nervous, too, about what was to come, and my nervousness made me tight. "Relax, this is going to take a few minutes," he said, easing his hand in further. "It should take more than a few minutes!" I grunted. "You're tight." "I'm scared." "Don't be scared. I'm preparing you. You can do it."
A few minutes later, he pulled his hand out...and ordered me to put mine in. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I kept saying. "This is not going to work." Husband held my leg out wider. "Just reach in...c'mon...you can do it."
I slipped my hand inside myself. Now, I'm no prude; I've touched myself down there many times before, for the sake of tampons and hygiene. But this? This was way different. I wasn't just touching myself, I was sticking my whole hand in there...and Husband's face was right there, watching me. I felt...sticky. And a lot more roomier than I'm used to. His own hand had really stretched me out. I hadn't been expecting that. I wasn't expecting how easily my hand fit in there. I wasn't expecting how much I'd like it.
Husband kept moving my legs around and pulling me up so I could reach in more. "There you go," he said proudly. "How does it feel?" "Sticky," I said. "And weird." "I don't think it's weird. I think this is fucking hot. Where's your phone?" "Downstairs." "Damn, I can't get a picture."
The scene lasted a few more minutes like that, then we progressed on to other things.
After everything was over, and we were back on the bed, sated and showered, he remarked again how hot I looked, fisting myself. "We'll need to do this again," he said. "So you can have pictures. You can put them on your blog." He was quiet for a moment. A quiet, thinking Husband is always a dangerous situation. "You know what?" He said, the excitement high in his voice. "You should do a whole 'Will It Fit?' series on your blog. We can plan on different things to try, and every time we do, we can take pictures. It'll be fun." (He started humming the tune from the "Will It Blend" series on Youtube. Yes, he can be a dork, but he is a sadistic dork, what can I tell you.) "It'll be...fun?" I said. "What kinds of things do you have in mind?" "Some stuff we have in the garage...do you really want to know more?" "No!" I tried to turn away in horror, but he grabbed me, kissed my head, and laughed.
So now I have joined the proud (are we proud? Let's say we are) ranks of women who can say they've fisted themselves. It's sticky. It's also kind of (REALLY) degrading...which I guess for me, is what adds to the fun. I have no idea what Husband is planning next. After all these years, that man still keeps me guessing. But stay tuned, because pictures are coming.