Going to Hellhole SF

Men, I finally made it to Hellhole, the monthly fisting party on the edge of SOMA...in a warehouse/office bldg. next door to Mr. S. Leather. Hellhole is very well organized, as are most fisting events, for reasons I will get to later. A cheerful guy greets you as you enter the bldg. and shows you the way...there are signs along the way, leading up stairways and down hallways. Now it costs something, probably to keep out the guys who aren't serious, because as we know, fisting is serious, maybe the most serious of all male-to-male sex encounters. Last night it cost $25 with some of the proceeds going to charity...yeah, that sounds expensive, but you never get the feeling that it is a ripoff
The space isn't all that big: the main room has about 10 or 12 slings, one upholstered platform, and a St. Andrew's cross...there are 2 other separate spaces, with more slings and another fuck platform...I didn't like the lighting there...it was too bright, so I stuck to the main space. The fisting brotherhood may appear to be clique-ish but that's because there's an element of trust that's required in a fisting relationship. You wouldn't let just any crowbar stick his arm up your ass, now would you? But...this can pose a problem if you hit these parties stag...most of the participants are partners or have known one another for a long time.
I found another single who admitted he was still learning the 'art' of fisting...and I believe him, as his hole was the tightest I've ever handled. With some patience and determination, we eventually got my whole fist up there where I discovered the landscape of his love tract...there were ridges and nubbins in there, and I massaged them all with my fingertips, nothing else moving except those select digits. The man was in total bliss. All this time, we played in silence, our eyes locked, and the concentration, the sex was intense. But most notably, his tight hole gripped my hands like a vise, to the point where I felt an relentless pressure bearing down on the fist...this was a 'first' for me..most holes I've fisted were big, greasy, sloppy holes allowing for a lot of movement deep inside. This guy wore me out, and I was grateful when he called for a break. He requested that I use gloves, and of course, I did. After all, we'd just met.
I wish it were a little darker in Hellhole...some darkness would add to the mystique, and the marginal quality of this fetish and all its taboos. For all of the fisting going on, Hellhole didn't seem quite nasty enough for me, although that's my own little take on things. It may be the best place for regular fisting, but it's still a bit small...you may have to wait a while before a sling becomes available. Everyone is friendly and considerate, which shouldn't be surprising since fisting has its own etiquette and most of the guys into it are educated, literate and professinal types, much more so that the gay population at large. At Hellhole there wasn't a chance that I would get fucked, and I didn't relish standing around, so I bailed around midnight, although the action goes on until 2. I can certainly recommend Hellhole, and anyone interested can start at their website HellholeSF.com.
So in search of dick, I made tracks for Mack, which is only 2 blocks away, and more about Mack in my next post.