“Do you want to try fisting me?” Willem* asked in his charming Dutch accent, as if he were asking if I wanted fries with that.
I was behind him in the bed, so he couldn’t see the look on my face when I paused to consider. I know, I know: What’s there to consider?! But you have to understand, the man had thoroughly sexed me already—we’d been in the fuck cave of my West LA bedroom for hours, letting the sun do its thing outside while we shut the curtains and did our thing inside.
We did our thing with him on his knees, begging for mercy as my fingers grazed the back of his throat. We did our thing with his cock in my pussy, a toy for me to use however I pleased. And we had just finished doing our thing with my strap-on cock up his ass when he asked if I’d like to try fisting (for the first time ever). So my initial, internal reaction was: I’m already so satisfied!
But then again, when in the hell was I gonna get the chance to stick my fucking hand all the way up someone’s fucking ass?!
So I gave an enthusiastic yes—because of course I did. My whole kinkship with Willem was an enthusiastic yes. We found each other on one of the kinkier dating apps, Feeld. He was an experienced dom in his late thirties who had two more months in the country before heading home to The Netherlands (where he, his girlfriend, and their kitchen-table polycule lived together). I was a horny sex writer who thought two months sounded like the perfect amount of time for my non-monogamous heart (and pussy) to explore with someone and not get too attached. I was calling him Daddy by the end of our first date and, soon after, we found ourselves in a loving dom/sub dynamic. We were fucking hot—both of us tall, fit, and skilled at dirty talk.
For weeks, I got to enjoy leaning into my submissive side with all six-foot-seven of Willem. He’d tie me up (you should see the Polaroids!) and make me feel held. We’d talk through every aspect of whatever kink we were going to try and I always felt safe. Then, on the fateful day in question, we decided to switch—it was my turn to be Daddy.
“Holy shit, okay, let’s do this!” I answered as I jumped off the bed and over to my dresser. I slipped off my strap-on and removed all of the rings on my left hand. I’d decided I should use my non-dominant hand because: (1) It’s probably less strong and therefore smaller, and (2) Because, like, what if I somehow got hurt up there?!
Willem had been seriously training his ass to be able to accommodate bigger girth, maintaining a steady regimen over the past three years. He’d shown me his exercises once—and let’s just say dragons can fly…in anal canals, when you put your mind to it. So I knew that if anyone’s body could physically withstand a human hand up it, it was Willem’s. But I was still genuinely concerned that I could hurt him—especially since I had long, 1950s-style nails at the time!
“We’ll go slow and I’ll help,” Willem reassured me, picking up on my nerves.
I took a swig of my Topo Chico, set it down and looked directly at him while I put a fresh glove on my hand and doused it in lube. Inside, I was thinking, what in the actual fuck am I doing?! But I trusted Willem. Somehow I knew this was going to work—and turn me on like crazy.
He knelt on the bed with his ass out towards me and a bunch of pillows in front of him so he could lean forward as we progressed. I put my wet, gloved hand at the opening of his asshole and made a fist shape.
“No, like this,” he said, reaching back to open my hand. “First, you’re gonna dive in with all your fingers facing forward. Then, once you’re in, you’ll make a fist.”
“What that fuck?!” I recoiled. “What about my nails?!” I practiced the choreography and grimaced, wondering how this could be humanly possible. (In hindsight, adding pieces of cotton to the inside of my glove to soften out my nails would’ve eased that worry.)
“Trust me,” he said, “It’ll work.”
Pushing my fingers and thumb together, I told my hand to suck it in as I applied pressure at his opening. His asshole was already gaping from me pegging him, so I was able to get to my first knuckles quite easily. When I felt resistance beyond that point, Willem jumped in to help.
Reaching his long arm back, he grabbed my wrist to pull me deeper inside, guiding me to his limits. He was employing a technique to accept anal penetration—clamping down against me for ten seconds at a time with an inhale, then relaxing on an exhale and allowing my hand in deeper. Slowly but surely, taking breaks to pull out and add lots of lube, I watched as my left hand started to disappear.
“Okay, this is the widest part of my hand!” I said as my largest knuckles approached the horizon.
“I want all of you inside me, Daddy,” he said, leaning forward on the pillows and tilting his pelvis so the rest of my hand was swallowed in one smooth motion. I’d never felt anything like it—to be enveloped by someone else’s insides. It made me jealous of cock-havers, I’ll admit.
“Oh my God! What a goooood boy! Daddy is all the way in!” I was literally dripping with the power of penetrating my kinky giant.
But my job wasn’t done yet. I still had the task of folding my fingers in on themselves to form a fist while inside him. I actually remember thinking about Harry Houdini in that moment, escaping restraints while under water. Maybe his spirit heard my call, because by some miracle—and with steady reassurance from Willem that everything inside felt okay—I began bravely curling my digits….
“Ahh!” Willem moaned.
“Good ‘Ahh’ or bad ‘Ahh’?!”
“Good! Keep going,” he said between breaths.
I closed my eyes and prayed as I neared the peak position (my fingers and palm at 90 degrees). Then—and I’ll never forget this—in one cascading motion, just as my fingers gathered to a fist, my entire appendage was instantly sucked deeper inside, strongly. It was like there was suddenly a gravitational pull for which my fist was no match.
Willem let out the biggest, most satisfied moan, and it was suddenly clear to me how special this was for him. This whole time I’d been thinking of it as a chance to check something rare off my Fucket List, but for Willem this was his chance to submit. To let down his nearly-seven-foot-tall walls and give himself over to Daddy. To feel full and receive for once. I smiled and nuzzled my face into his back.
“Daddy is so proud of you,” I said, starting a gentle rhythm of pumping my fist forward and back an inch. “You are taking it incredibly well. Does everything feel okay?”
“Yes, Daddy,” he said with a smile.
I glanced down at my forearm, the tiniest peak of black latex reminding me I did indeed have a hand—it was just in another world at the moment. I wished I had the wherewithal to add a vibrator on me because I could have cum in seconds, but my sole focus was on Willem. I reached around with my right arm and picked up his hard cock, but he stopped me before I could stroke.
“I don’t want to cum,” he said. “It feels so incredible getting filled up, I just want a few more minutes of this.”
His wish was my command. I stayed right there, letting him relax around me, moaning as I filled him up in more ways than one. About five minutes later, I was physically feeling the pressure—it’s tight in there and a girl can only hand-le so much—so we started the process of pulling me out.
As you can probably imagine, out was way easier than in. We reversed our steps and had wipes ready on the exit for a super easy cleanup. I washed my hands and returned to the bed to hold Willem, wrapping my legs around him from behind like a baby bear.
“I know you don’t want to cum, but I think I must,” I whispered, nibbling his ear after a few minutes of cuddles.
“You must, Daddy! Please let me help you,” he said with gratitude in his eyes.
I crawled in front of him, making myself the little spoon as I handed him a glove.
We didn’t have to use lube this time—his fingers slid right inside my super-soaked cunt. I closed my eyes and flashed back to my POV fisting him, how I’d looked down to see nothing but the bottom of my glove and the power I felt having such a big, strong man at my literal fingertips. I clamped down around his three digits inside me as I neared the brink.
“I’m cumming!” I screamed.
“Good, Daddy, cum!” he encouraged.
I liquified around him as images of my fist inside him and his fingers inside me blended into an instant-mental porno—one I still watch behind my eyelids to this day.
My fourth orgasm had me spent, totally relaxed as we lay there holding each other for what felt like forever. Then we washed up (his head towering above the shower’s), dried off, ate some food, and gathered his things. As Willem hopped in his Uber, I waved goodbye…and, man, did my hand look different to me when I did.
GG Sauvage is a writer and all-around artist on a mission to f*ck shame away and empower people with self-love. She designed The Sexiest Deck Alive: Erotic Oracle Cards to Turn You On & Help You Turn the Corner, co-hosts the Basic Witches podcast, and wrote the audio drama Sex and the Synchronicity. See her work at Refinery29, Vogue Italia, Vulture, CollegeHumor, and WhoHaHa, and check out her website for more!
