Her fists had entered me time and again, but alone, letting me recover as best I could from the excess of the previous weekend. So I felt John more th...n Jenny, and had to bite my lip and squirm as he twisted and thrust his clenched fist past the rim. Once he was inside, it was lovely of course, and my tunnel only too happy to accept his traffic!As he slowly reamed me by way of hello, the doorbell rang again. Our other two guests had arrived. Liz and Eddie. Liz was the other Fisting Queen in. But she wasn’t with him mentally. She didn’t tell him her fears anymore, she wouldn’t tell him her problems, or when she wanted to do something dangerous. She wouldn’t tell him her worries. She would talk with him but not about anything really important or about her. She still laughed with him, but her laugh was different, it didn’t have the same life, the same spark. She didn’t want to tell him her struggles anymore. She didn’t want him to worry about her, didn’t want him to know just how far. More

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