Chapter 3: The Fist of Trust

After the golden rain in the shopping mall, with the bitter taste of Sergio's beer still persisting in my memory like a humid reminder, I felt that I needed something deeper. Literally. The international blowjobs had opened my appetite for variety, public humiliation had excited me with the risk, but now I yearned for a surrender that would break me from within. On the app, among profiles of guys looking for quick hookups, I found Raúl: 38 years old, photo of large and veiny hands, clear description: "Fisting master. Progressive sessions, safe, with aftercare. Only serious submissives. Agreed limits". We chatted for a week: we talked about my previous experiences (few in extreme anal), safe words ("red" to stop, "yellow" to slow down), recent ETS tests. He insisted on consensus: "It's not just putting your hand in, it's trust. I'll open you up slowly, as far as you can". The taboo here was internal: the fear of pain, of being ripped apart, but the thrill of being opened like never before made my cock hard just thinking about it. We agreed to meet at his loft in the Born, a loft with high ceilings and a dedicated room: a sling hanging from the ceiling, a table with lubricants and toys lined up like surgical instruments.

I arrived nervous, with my ass already lubricated at home as he had ordered. Raúl opened the door: tall, with a trimmed beard and eyes that conveyed dominant calmness. "Come in, Mateo. Get undressed and lie down on the sling". I obeyed, the cold leather against my back, my legs open in the stirrups, exposed like in a perverted medical exam. He took off his shirt, showing a hairy and strong torso, and greased his hands with the first lubricant: a water-based gel, fresh and slippery, with a minty smell. "We start gently. Relax".

He began with fingers: one, two, three, rotating slowly, massaging my prostate until I moaned like a slut. The pain was minimal at first, just a pleasant pressure that made me drip precum. "Good boy... feel how I open you up". He changed to a thicker lubricant, J-Lube mixed with water, gelatinous and long-lasting, which dripped down my thighs. He inserted four fingers, pushing his thumb inside, forming a cone. That's when the real stretching started: a burning sensation in the ring, like I was on fire, but mixed with waves of pleasure that ran through my cock. "Yellow", I said, panting, and he slowed down, massaging the outside with his other hand. "Okay, breathe. You're mine now".

We moved on to toys: first a medium-sized silicone plug, black and veiny, which he inserted and removed rhythmically until my ass opened up more. Then a larger one, 8 cm in diameter, with vibration. He greased it with an oily lubricant, silicone-based, which didn't dry out and made everything slippery like oil. The pain intensified: an internal fire that made me scream, but each vibration hit my prostate and brought me to the edge of orgasm. "Damn, Raúl... it hurts... but don't stop". He smiled, contro...