Popping Another Cherry

I'm not much for false modesty, so I'll just say that I have a minor reputation in fisting circles for being the best fister to pop a bottom's cherry. I'm about 5-8 and 165 or so, wear a size 9 boot and have a fat plump dick...alas, it's a shower more than a grower, but the girth would be enough for any bottom, if I could only get the damned hard like I used to. But...I have smallish hands that don't go with my feet. I also have pretty good stamina and prefer to stand when fisting, very often pressing my body against the bottom's, and finishing off by my grabbing my fat dick for some fisting with dick in hand. I'm also a top who doesn't push his bottom to the top's limits; I respect the bottom and it's the bottom who calls the shots, as far as I'm concerned.
After chatting interminably with a versatile pozman who said he wanted me to pop his cherry, we finally reconnoitered at a private playroom in the Mission District of San Francisco, on a quiet tree-shaded street of cutesy-pooh Victorian cottages...who would have thought that behind one of these doors lay one awesome helluva playspace with platform, mirrors, sound and video equipment, and a sling?
I worked this man over for a full hour and at first I thought he was bullshitting me about never having been fisted. He's done a lot of playing around with toys and such, and that is the best way to ease yourself into bottoming for a fist, no amount of dickfucking is going to do it. Well, I got this guy to Level One...all five fingers to the knuckle...Level Two would be to the wrist and we didn't get that far this time, this first time. But we will eventually. One year with this man and I'll have him proud of a fabulous, mellow, buttery ass that just swallows up a mean fist. The point of this blab is to announce that I...am...ready. Ready to indoctrinate any willing novice into the culture of fisting. I used to do this years ago at the legendary fistspace South of Market, and half of the guys honestly decided it wasn't for them. But the other half went to the limit and are now of the fisting brotherhood. It's dificult to ask an experienced top: 'will you break me in?' Some tops seem so unapproachable, especially when decked out in full gear. Well, I am approachable, so all you wannabe fisting bottoms, now you know.
This blog is about gaypoz culture in the 21st century but with a lot of historical cross references, so I'd be remiss if I did not mention that the biography of the seminal (figuratively and most probably literally) leatherman, Chuck Renslow, written by Tracy Baim & Owen Keehnen, is now out and available...'Leatherman: The Legend of Chuck Renslow'published by Prairie Avenue Productions, $24.99. Jack Fritscher reviews it in the Bay Area Reporter (6/9-15), and those leathermen who actually read will know where to buy it; otherwise you can start with our friends at Q Trading Company in Palm Springs.
A fist a day keeps the doctor away.