This is just the sex parts of my New Zealand trip report. For the rest of the report from this day, click here.
I finally managed a connection with a Māori guy named Rob, who is into fisting. He secured us a cheap hotel room and got a case of cans of bourbon and coke. (We don’t have that in cans in the States, so far as I know.) We talked about stuff for an hour or so and then got down to brass tacks. He fisted me, then I fisted him, and then he fisted me again. He was surprised that I got into him, since he has had such bad luck getting fisted before that he was halfway convinced he was physically unable to do it. I happily proved him wrong; he was a very happy boy when we parted company.
Rob said he had done three clean outs that evening, he was so excited at the chance to play. I’ve found that at least two cleanouts and when I’m setting up for a party scenario, three helps me both stay clean and be loosened up, so they probably helped him, too.
Updated on March 1, 2010
Updated on March 17, 2010
Updated on June 7, 2010