I had finally agreed to a threesome with the man I had been involved in a Dominant/submissive friends-with-benefits situation for the last four months. Since this was largely my fantasy that he had wanted to fulfill, it was going to be a male-male-female threesome. I was nervous, to say the least. He had agreed to write up an ad for Craigslist, let me review it before posting, and screen all the responses…We finally settled on one-not my first choice, or even my second, but he actually followed through.
….I knew that if I could see what was going on, I wouldn’t go through with it, so we agreed that I would be blindfolded and he would take care of me, gauging the situation and making sure the Guest didn’t overstep my limits.
I was kneeling, blindfolded, in the middle of the living room, when the doorbell rang… It didn’t take long before Guest was naked and in my mouth. Nor did it take long after we rolled around a little bit and had changed positions that I started feeling little “feather brushes” against my arms. For the life of me, I could not figure out what the feeling was-they were without pattern but distinct and localized sensations against my skin. It wasn’t until I started feeling them on my face as I was essentially tea-bagging him that I realized that HE WAS SWEATING ON ME. The Guest, this man I had just “met” in the loosest of terms, wasn’t simply sweaty, he was sweating large, gross, hairy man sweat droplets all over my face and torso.
That should have been my clue to stop, but I’m a trooper and a bit loathe to cause a scene. Besides, my Man was there, I knew I was safe, and he and I were having fun.
Fast forward to the end of the afternoon. I’m on the floor on my back after my Man and I finished fucking, kind of spent from all the activities, but still blindfolded. I can feel the Guest’s hands on me, and he asks if he can get me off again. Not one to say no to an orgasm, he starts attending to me digitally. But then the sensation changes-it feels as if he’s trying to fist me, but with his palm or something. The feeling is off…and then it hits me: The Guest is an amputee and is TRYING TO FIST ME WITH HIS STUMP! I don’t go for fisting to begin with, but trying to fit his stump in my vagina was just never going to happen, so I stop the scene, he leaves, and I go to the bathroom to clean up.
When I come out, I turn to my Man and ask, “What he missing a hand?”
“Yes he was. I didn’t think it would be polite to turn him away just because of it though.”
“That’s true, but Stumpy tried to fist me with his stump! Without asking! Had he tried to fist me, that would have been bad enough, but stumping without permission is just poor form.”