My friend destroyed my slutty asshole with his fist – my first anal fist training and juicy prolapse

Title: My First Anal Fist Training: A Deliciously Depraved Debacle

It was a sultry summer evening, and I found myself sprawled on my bed, fingers dancing over my iPhone screen. The cursor blinked expectantly as I contemplated the words before me: “My Friend Destroyed My Slutty Asshole with His Fist – My First Anal Fist Training and Juicy Prolapse.” I’d been craving some kinky literature to help me unwind after a stressful day, and this tantalizing title promised just that.

As I began to read, I could feel a familiar throb between my thighs. The words were graphic, detailed, and dripping with carnal desire. The author, a self-proclaimed anal slut, recounted her first foray into anal fisting with her best friend. They’d grown up together, their relationship built on secrets, mischief, and an innate curiosity about each other’s bodies.

The night in question began innocently enough, with the two friends lounging on the couch, bodies pressed close as they giggled over their inside jokes. But as the minutes ticked by, the mood shifted. Fingers found their way beneath clothing, teasing and stroking as they reveled in the forbidden fruit.

I couldn’t help but imagine myself in the author’s position – horny, willing, and utterly at the mercy of my best friend’s desires. As the story progressed, I found myself reaching for my secret drawer, pulling out my trusty set of anal toys. The book may have been about a fisting adventure, but my body ached for something to fill me up, deep and hard.

The author’s friend was gentle at first, caressing her ass, working his fingers into her tight hole. But as she relaxed, he grew bolder, stretching her, pushing his hand deeper. She described the pain and pleasure of being filled beyond her limits, the burn of his knuckles against her walls.

I could practically feel the pressure building inside me as I read. I slicked up my smallest plug and pushed it into my eager hole, gasping as it sank in. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more, needed to experience that delicious blend of agony and ecstasy for myself.

The author’s anal training session grew more intense, the friend working his entire hand inside her, his palm pressing against her stomach. She cried out, tears streaming down her face, but begged for more. I understood that desperate craving, the need to be used, claimed, stretched to the breaking point.

I reached for my next toy – a thick, textured dildo, perfect for fucking my ass. Pushing my pants down, I repositioned until I was lying on my back, legs spread wide. I coated the toy in lube before pressing it against my entrance, tensing as the flared head popped inside.

The author’s story took a turn I hadn’t expected – as her friend’s hand probed deeper, her asshole prolapsed. I shuddered at the description, equal parts horrified and aroused. To experience that level of destruction, that complete surrender to pleasure and pain… it was intoxicating.

I began to thrust the dildo in and out of my hole, imagining that I was taking my friend’s fist just like the author had. The pressure built with each stroke, my muscles clenching around the toy. I could feel my own asshole fluttering and twitching, desperate for something more.

As I fucked myself harder, the author’s friend coaxed his girl to cum. He rubbed her clit while his fist pounded her guts, and her world exploded into a million glittering pieces. I could feel my own orgasm building, my pussy dripping onto the sheets. I pumped the dildo furiously, chasing that sweet, burning release.

The author and her friend collapsed together, a sweaty, sticky mess. She marveled at the wreckage of her abused hole, proud of how much she could take. I continued to fuck myself, lost in the fantasy of it all. My friend’s fist, his cock, all the depraved pleasures I’d only ever dreamed about.

Finally, I came with a strangled cry, my body convulsing around the toy. I rode out the waves of my climax, painting my fingers with my gushing juices. As I deliberately pulled the dildo from my fucked-out asshole, I couldn’t help but moan at the complimentary stretch.

Lying in my post-orgasmic glow, I pondered my own desires. I wanted to experience everything the author had – that intense, borderline insane pleasure of anal fisting. I wanted to have my guts rearranged, to be made into a human fuckhole. But was I brave enough? Sensible enough? The risks and rewards were so tantalizing, but what would be the cost of my depravity?

As I cleaned myself up and got ready for bed, I knew one thing for certain: This little kinky story had opened up a whole new world of possibilities. I might not be ready to jump into a fisting adventure just yet, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep reading, keep learning, keep dreaming. And who knows? One day, I might just decide to find out if my slutty asshole was up for destruction, too.