Poz Bottom Gets Fisted With His Own Cum

On a quiet, well-tended suburban street of neat, substantial houses in Southern California, a man is getting fisted in the middle of the afternoon. This appointment was arranged online through a popular website...a pretty ordinary means of getting laid, or in this case, fisted. I'm the fisting top and I love daytime sessions on a weekday because it usually indicates that both top and bottom are at leisure to play when it suits them. This hook-up is especially nice because it involves my first redhead...ever. Well, a blondish reddish sort of lean tiger with zero body fat and a stiff crewcut...basically, a novelty of the best sort, enhanced by a genial personality. And oh yeah, it gets better thanks to a nicely shaped dick that looks like a mouth watering plump pink pork sausage. So in this suburban setting, the session starts with my getting thoroughly porked and taking a very generous juicy poz load. That's good for a start. My part of the bargain is to stuff this lean mean fisthole with my very talented hands. At first glance the hole looks rather small but this guy is an experienced bottom...I mean, I noticed him a long time ago and buddylisted him and I've been tracking him like a bloodhound ever since. When I saw him online, I hit him up, but whatever his history, it still looks like a pretty small tight hole. Looks are often deceiving. This talented fistchute took my hand easily, one deep breath and I was in like an oiled slippery slide and I did the old five finger exercise hitting his interesting combination of deep corners. But while this was going on, I detected the unmistakeable aroma of cum. His cum. My ass. As I squatted to get a better fisting angle, I felt by buttlips quiver like they wanted to dump, so I quickly cupped my free palm under my hole to catch whatever might come out. What I got was the big fat load of poz cum that he had shot up my ass. This was just too good to pass off lightly. I withdrew my other hand and lubed both hands with him cum, and after asking him politely if I could fist him with his own cum, that's exactly what I did. This was a very satisfying accessory to the action, and one I wish would happen all the time. I had to ask him first, though. To get his permission. After all, there is an etiquette to fisting. And the first rule is mutual respect. Ah, like I didn't know he'd say yes. Thanks, my man, for a great suburban afternoon session, cum and all.