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Hand It Over - Scene 3 Part 2
Here is the conclusion to Mason Garet and Aaron Hammers fist debauchery! Its hardcore, its full on and it's everything you expert from us here at FistingCentral.com the handball masters!
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Rock Bottom!
Rocky just sort of appeared out of nowhere, late Friday night as I packed up my truck for a trip into town.
"Hey," I said, stuffing my bag of tricks into my tool box and locking down the lid. "What are you doing, out walking the streets?" I didn't really need an answer. Nothing Rocky could do would surprise me. I've known him much too long for that.
"Man," he said, "I need some air." He seemed a little jittery, coming closer. When he got right up next to me I could almost feel him grind his teeth.
"Yeah?" I asked. "Well it looks like you chose the right night to get it." Sweat on his arms and his forehead plastered down hair in the moonlight. One drop fell off of the tip of his nose. I leaned back against my truck, folding my arms and feeling sad. "Rocky, my man, you've been using again."
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Your Ass is Mine - Scene 2
Matthieu Paris pulls out our biggest toys and gives us a great solo show. He rides toy after giant toy - heck, he even takes on the lube bottle!! He squeezes down on the thing, pouring out thick, syrupy, clear lube onto the next long toy which he promptly shoves up his wanting hole.
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The Birthday Boy!
I met this dude playing a music gig. We got to be friends, but we never fucked. I figured, what the shit, he's twenty, and I'm forty, and that's that.
It wasn't.
He came over to practice every Friday afternoon, and it always took about three hours - one hour of practicing, and two hours of bullshitting, drinking coffee, and talking sex. And it was always kinky sex.
Finally, after about six months of this, I decided to invite him to a meeting of the Friday Night Handball Association for his twenty-first birthday. The FNHA consists of about six super-hot dudes who get together every week for a fisting orgy. It's sort of a moveable feast. We usually play at the local tubs, however, and anybody who's hot enough to catch our interest will generally be permitted into the sling room - almost always bottom men. The top men in this town are few and far between and have well-established rep. Occasionally, somebody passes through who has all the making of a top - but that's another chapter.
Assault!
The sun was climbing to it's zenith and the heat rolled in heavy waves off the blacktop road which stretched for miles into the distance. Bill gave a tug at his crotch and wiped the sweat from his eyes as he manhandled the big Harley out of the flat desert floor into the gentle rise that signaled the start of the foothills. They swelled in the haze ahead to towering snow-capped peaks. "It'll be tougher cycling," thought Bill, "but maybe some relief from this heat." He'd been deadheading these past two days in order to get through the desert on his cross country camping trip. It had been a meandering trip up and down, in and out of side roads, leisurely exploring any way that struck his fancy.
The road started rising more noticeably now and patches of trees and greenery began replacing the scrub brush he had become accustomed to. After two more hours he was well into the hills and the desert was dropping behind. The cool breeze felt great on his hot dust-streaked body. The sweat ran down and pooled in his crotch and the crack of his ass. His jock and the seat of his jeans were soaked through, and in away it felt good. The vibration of the roaring motor seemed to form a bond between his damp ass and the hot leather seat, making him feel almost as if he were a part of the sleek black and chrome machine. Idly he reached down and stroked his cock, which had swollen full and fat, trying to push up under his wide leather belt.
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Hand It Over - Scene 3 Part 1
Fisting Central superstar Mason Garet, coated in shiny latex zippered tank and shorts, writhes and shivers beneath Aaron Hammer's demanding slaps and probing tongue. Aaron laps up all the sweat that pours out from between Mason's ass cheeks once freed by the pull of the zipper. After that tasty appetizer, Aaron wants more! And more he gets...
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Beach Boys!
Marty was 22, and he'd been in a very heavy sexual relationship for four years. His partner, Peter, was great - heavy-cocked, and a long stayer when it came to sex, but they'd split up recently because Peter had wanted him to stop playing the gay scene - which Marty loved - and that was when Marty decided that he had to get away from the city.
He threw some things into a case and then stuck a pin in a map, which wasn't a very wise thing to do....which is why he now found himself in a small seaboard town a mere 100 miles from the city he'd just left.
The beach house he'd rented was the only building on this small stretch of coastline; the town itself being a short drive away, so he'd also rented himself a small car to get around and take in some scenery.
That morning, he decided to get up early and wash the car, which was already showing severe evidence of being parked near the beach, so he flung on an old pair of cut-offs, dropped a sponge into a bucket filled with slightly unhealthy-looking water, and set to work.
