PLEASE Help Report My Imposter to AOL-

Their screen name is CaliforniaLyme1 AT aol.com
PLEASE HELP!!!
Report Internet Terms of Service Violations.

AOL How-To


To file a complaint about inappropriate Internet e-mail, Web pages, or
activity that may have originated from an AOL® member, please send a
copy of the original posting to the e-mail address
TOSREPORTS AT aol.com

You may use the following posting as an example of the obscenity
being posted (in my name) by an AOL member on a disease support/science
newsgroup. Thank you!!!

1. CaliforniaLyme Sep 16, 11:18 am show options

Newsgroups: sci.med.diseases.lyme
From: "CaliforniaLyme" <CaliforniaLy...@xxxxxxx> - Find messages by
this author
Date: 16 Sep 2005 11:18:06 -0700
Local: Fri, Sep 16 2005 11:18 am
Subject: The Art of Anal Fisting
Reply | Reply to Author | Forward | Print | Individual Message | Show
original | Report Abuse

"Anal fisting: party trick or real sex act?" A writer once posed this
question to me during an interview. I giggled, but he did have a point.

Most people think anal fisting is either a gay urban legend or a
freakish sexual circus feat. Actually, it can be a real sex act and a
party trick, if you play your cards right and know what you're doing.


So where does one learn the art of anal fisting? In Florida, of course.

A few weeks ago, the Hollywood Clarion Hotel, just outside Ft.
Lauderdale, was the site of one of the few national events of the s/m
community: "Living in Leather." This was the 14th annual conference of
the National Leather Association International, an umbrella
organization for 10 city or state chapters devoted to s/m politics,
education, and social events. (There's an affiliate in Calgary, hence
NLAI's international scope.) The weekend at the Clarion offered s/m
seminar staples: workshops, meetings, shopping, awards, and play
parties. As a professional known as Buttgirl, I had the honor of
teaching two workshops this year: Anal Toys 101 and Anal Fisting.


Now, when I say the words anal fisting, most people's immediate
reaction is a wide-eyed, half terrified, half titillated "Yikes!" Take
a deep breath. (It's all in the breathing.) Anal fisting, also known as

handballing, is the gradual process of putting your hand (and for very
experienced players, sometimes your forearm) inside someone's ass.
Fisting as a term is misleading since you don't go inside all at once
like a punch; usually your hand is not in a clenched fist once it is in

there. Gay men popularized fisting in the late '60s and '70s during the

sexual revolution and founded private fisting clubs in major urban
areas.


I've read and heard tales of these sex clubs, filled with hungry men,
waiting slings, and cans of Crisco. Although it is an intense exchange
of power between two people, fisting isn't exactly s/m. Because it is
an outlaw sexual practice popularized by gay leathermen, it remains
associated with and practiced by s/m folk, although not exclusively.
Yet like s/m, anal fisting explores and tests the farthest reaches of
the mind's and body's inner limits.


Anal fisting is a rarity among women, even though vaginal fisting has
been somewhat accepted. The vagina has long demonstrated its
versatility, but sexual adventurers have paid so much attention to this

one fabulously flexible orifice that they have overlooked the promise
of the other. As a result, unlike gay men, women lack a history to hang

on to like a sturdy sling, the legacy of fisting pros, or the role
models to pass the skills from generation to generation.


I was scheduled to teach the anal-fisting class with leatherman and
leading handball expert Bert Herrman, author of the only book devoted
exclusively to the subject, Trust: The Hand Book (Alamo Square Press).
He also publishes Trust: The Handballing Newsletter. Bert, a fisting
legend, has been putting his hands in men's asses since I was in
diapers. A true meeting of the minds and asses, the workshop in Florida

proved to be a unique bridging of different perspectives, genders, and
generations. In our introduction, when we talked about warming up for
fisting, our differences were readily apparent. An old-school fister,
Bert's into getting high on pot and poppers and stuffing gobs of
Crisco, whereas I am into endorphin highs and a nice, thick water-based

lubricant.


We viewed Handball Loving (Alamo Square/Erospirit Institute), which is
unlike any video I've ever seen. Bert's approach to fisting is very
spiritual; he sees it as a path to enlightenment and higher
consciousness, a way to connect with a higher power and soul bond with
another person. He draws on Eastern religions, particularly the
principles of tantric sex. In that way, he is at the forefront of
future sex, incorporating spirituality into sexuality.


Then there is the simple amazement factor of seeing Bert with his arm
almost to the elbow up his partner's ass, then later with both hands
inside him. It really is a different kind of sex; yes, there's pleasure

and intimacy and orgasm, but that's not all. Both men were transported
into a deep trance, their bodies melding, their souls merging.


That night, after the workshop, I was inspired. I've been anally fisted

before, but it was a long time ago and I wanted to do it again. My
girlfriend, Red, and I had already decided to host a small sex party, a

half-dozen of us, in our room. I started with a medium-sized *** plug
(appropriately called Voyager) in my ass, which I wore for a while,
then switched to a larger, very thick red plug. Whenever that one
slides in my ass, it feels too big at first, but inevitably I take a
deep breath and in it goes.


When I felt like my ass was relaxed and ready for more, Red put on a
latex glove, slipped out the *** plug, and started working her fingers

inside me as I lay on my back. I took lots of deep breaths and
concentrated on relaxing and opening up. She eventually got all five
fingers up to the final knuckles-the widest part of the hand, the
dreaded sticking point. Totally turned-on, totally amazed that there
was so much of her in my ass, I tried to flip over on my stomach.
"Whoa, whoa," Red insisted. I was so absorbed I didn't realize I
would've broken her arm if I continued to roll. I kept asking for more
lube, but finally Red said, "Honey, you have a ton of lube in your ass.

There's just no more room."


We both knew that was as far as she was going. At that point, an orgasm

doesn't matter because the experience is physically and mentally so
intense and all encompassing. Red withdrew and we relaxed. We then
enjoyed some cheese and crackers with our guests.


During the scene, I remembered Bert talking about what it feels like
when you're all the way up to someone's transverse colon (beyond the
rectum and descending colon). I realized I'm definitely a
below-the-transverse-colon person. Even Buttgirl has her limits.


Reply

.

Quantcast