The Paw (II)

The Paw was an amazing place. Its nudist atmosphere, its dim lights, its pounding music that got you high and dehumanized you, the poppers, the smell of sex....

One night I went back to the bar. After undressing and buying poppers at the bar, I went down to the basement, got on a swing, with my ass lubed up, and started sniffing poppers.

Through the haze of the high I saw a guy who started caressing my asshole, and seeing my submission, he put lube on his hands and started fisting me.

Fisting is a very pleasurable practice if it’s done well. If it’s done well, it gets you so turned on that you only want one thing: to get fucked.

My fister was an expert. He started by putting in fingers and gradually increasing the dilation until he got a fist in. At that moment I felt open and very horny. The poppers and the fist combined were getting me extremely worked up. I needed a cock, I WANTED a cock.

Then he put in his other fist and I started begging him to fuck me in the ass. He didn’t pay much attention, and I, almost crying, begged him to give me cock.

In the end, without warning, he shoved it in all the way to the balls in a single thrust. I felt completely impaled. It didn’t take him too long to cum inside.

I thought it was over, but it wasn’t. He drove it back into me and then I felt something hot—he had just pissed inside me.

My orgasm was brutal.