The Counting House

The Counting House – OCD inspired romantic fisting erotica

Content warning: Mental health, fisting.

Hello there my sweet angels – Along with most of the world right now, my mental health is in tatters. So I thought I’d share a story exploring sex and mental health.

Here’s my lovely romantic fisting story inspired by having OCD. I was pondering today about fisting and erotica and if you can make it romantic – I have to tell you, all the fisting erotica I’ve read and listened to has been beautifully, sensitively written and extremely hot. I will always cherish Big Handed Sam by Malin James, sadly I can’t find it anywhere now – but trust me it was beautiful and was the first fisting story I read.

And this lush story from Quenby – Warming My Hand – I first heard this being read out by the author at the Edinburgh Cocktails and Fuck Tales event and my god, it was beautiful! I’m delighted to be able to add it to this post for you to enjoy.

And this Fisting Tutorial Story from Focused and Filthy will have you biting your knuckles in desperation!

I just feel like the word fisting is somehow too brutal for the act!

Anyway, here goes…

The Counting House

Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven… and repeat.

Shit, it was happening. The rising of the daggers. Sabine pulled her hood over her face, trying to sink further into her top, withdraw, from herself and the street. All these damn people. Noises, smells, the overwhelming creeping of humanity. It sliced through into her, all this stuff, but there was only one way to get to Marguerite—and that was through it.

Marguerite was the first person to ever see Sabine, really see her, you know? It had been the strangest, most intimate and vulnerable she’d ever been. Marguerite had exposed Sabine to even herself and now she’d been opened, there was no going back.

Sabine had kept herself hidden and closed all her life, when you know you’re not like the others, you are very careful not to let a bit of yourself slip out… just in case.

Sabine had wondered if she’d been brave enough to reach out, would anyone have caught her back then? Would anyone else have reached out too? Fuck, being a living growing human was so hard.

Sabine shoved her hands deeper into her pockets while lifting her shoulders to her ears.

Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

The numbers helped. They helped get her through, get to her destination in safety – but she’d been slowly learning through Marguerite that this numerical armour was also keeping her lonely. Was safety worth it? Sabine started counting again, swearing to herself that she’d stop when she got to Marguerite’s door.

Ahhh Marguerite, her touch so soft then so forceful, knowing when to pounce, knowing when to retreat. Sabine squeezed her fists, half in joy and anticipation, half in terror. It was both a very thrilling and terrifying place to be.

But fuck, when Sabine knocked on Marguerite’s door, she had to knock twice. Her heart honestly stopped. Sabine could do that. She could halt her heart while her ears strained to hear the flitter of footsteps on the other side. Nothing. Fuck.

Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

A swoosh pulsed in her head as the air ran out. She witnessed herself slide off sideways, darkness spreading in the periphery.

A cold hand brought her to.

“Jesus Christ, Sabs I was just having a piss, you’re so fucking dramatic!”

Sabine gulped in oxygen and the scent of her lover—warmth filled up her lungs and heart, reviving her darkened state.

“I mean, what the actual fuck, you need to trust me. If I say come over, I’m going to be in, fuck.”

Marguerite was pacing, hand on hip. It was sexy. Sabine didn’t want her to be angry with her, how could she explain, she did trust her, but what if something had happened? What if life or humanity had got in the way. She’d never blame Marguerite.

It was such a knife edge. Such a precarious way to live. If Marguerite only knew how far she’d come. How much she’d let go since that first time Marguerite had trailed her fingertips down Sabine’s jaw and Sabine had not jerked away. Sabine had let the frission of that first touch light up her senses, send electricity through her love-dead nerves. They were usually on edge and alert, raw and jangling, ready for threat, ready to retreat, but that day, a light had surged and cascaded on a wave of desire, not fear. Sabine let her neck roll and head fall back sensuously at the memory of that touch. Her hood slipped off and she knew her neck was exposed, collar bone prominent, yearning for hot breath to caress it.

Her eyes shut as she listened to the rhythmic steps of Marguerite pacing and her beautiful voice dishing out frustration. It coiled around Sabine—the charged atmosphere a living thing, skating its way, holding her. Her cunt clenched, heat and moisture expanding into her crotch, almost as if someone had shouted ‘clear’ in a medical drama and her desire had been shocked into life. The flatline now pulsing. Her cunt throbbed—ached.

This woman’s emotion was hitting all the right alarm bells and Sabine wondered if she was brave enough to reach out.

She opened her eyes, and caught Marguerite’s gaze and she paused mid-rant, mid-pace.

“Sabs?” she said, eyes widening, nipples beading beneath her silky robe, only loosely fastened. It had come undone a little and Sabine had a suspicion it wasn’t by mistake.

Fuck. Shaking, Sabine stood. She took a breath, stared directly at her lover and walked around the table. She was making the first move. At last.

Marguerite’s eyebrow lifted and a very sexy smile danced on her lips.

“Sabs?” she said again, this time, there was a huskiness, a hint of excitement, a questioning. Was this really happening?

Yes it fucking was, thought Sabine.

Marguerite was against the table, her chest rising and falling quickly as the pulse at her neck fluttered. It made Sabine want so hard, this new feeling of a powershift, they both felt it, she could tell and the moment was electrifying.

Sabine pressed her body in hard to her lover’s their gaze still locked. Marguerite’s eyes were wide and shining, excitement and disbelief glowed in her expression. She looked like a trapped thing, a vulnerable but excited trapped thing, eager to see what might happen next. No desire to escape. Their breath met, both sets of lips parted in anticipation but neither willing to take the first bite, break the spell. Sabine slid her hands down the back of Marguerite’s hips and dragged the robe up over her ass, her thighs trembling. She bent her knees and dipped, reaching round to Marguerite’s now bare ass and lifted her up onto the table.

Marguerite gasped, grabbing Sabine by the shoulders to steady herself and finally Sabine leaned in, open mouthed to feast on her lover’s hot sweet lips. Marguerite shuffled forward on the table spreading her legs wide and wrapping them around Sabine, pulling her in.

Sabine hungrily pawed at the gaping robe, grasping at her lover’s perfect tit. Oh god, thought Sabine as she ground her hips into the table just below Marguerite’s naked cunt, oh god I’m going to come in my fucking jeans right now.

Every hair on her body was standing on end, sending electric signals of fuck to her clit. She was shaking all over, a low growling sound coming from her throat as she devoured Marguerite’s delicious lips. Shit, shit, she twisted her hips, wriggling her thighs together to try and dispel the impending climax. She started bucking and twitching as her thumb pressed into Marguerite’s nipple, sliding over the tight nub and letting it ping, she was so turned on. She just wanted to consume her, eat her whole.

She released her lover’s mouth and slithered down her neck, leaving trails of sparkling kisses as she went, down to her collar bone, licking deep into the dip that she knew drove Marguerite wild. It was frantic, feral, hot and fast. Sabine tried to slow down but couldn’t. Quickly dipping her head, taking Marguerite’s other breast into her mouth, trying to get it all the succulent flesh in, Marguerite suckled hard. She tongued the knotted nipple at the back of her throat. It was heaven.

Marguerite grabbed Sabine’s hair in fistfuls, groaning and moaning, Sabine could hear words of fuck above her, filthy slutty words, commanding her to eat her beat her fuck her fist her.

Marguerite tore at the robe tie, trying her best to rip it off only managing to tighten the knot – she had to settle with pulling the robe out through it leaving the tie as a belt on her lover’s naked frame. She crouched lower, pressing her palms to the inside of Marguerite’s thighs and pushed her legs apart hard.

Her lover’s pussy glistened with want and Sabine could almost taste her need in the air. She let her knees fall to the floor and walked her fingers up to Marguerite’s pussy lips. She pulled them apart and admired the delicacy that awaited her. Still fully clothed, it felt so hot to have a woman naked in front of her, all exposed and ready to spray her pleasure all over her.

Sabine’s mouth watered and she licked her lips glancing up to catch a wicked look from above.

Marguerite grabbed her hair harder and pulled Sabine’s face onto her.

Fuck yes. Sabine separated the lips hard, stretching her lover’s cunt open then flattened out her tongue dragging it from just below her juicy entrance all the way up past her urethra to the spread open clit. It protruded from its hood already erect and desperately in need of attention. But not yet, not quite yet.

Sabine’s own pussy was twitching again, fluttering in her pants which were positively sodden.

Sabine swirled her tongue around Marguerite’s clit once then went back down, forcing her tongue to a point then spearing her lover’s hole, rubbing her nose into her plump labia.

She tasted of heaven, sweet, salty tangy heaven and Sabine was at her place of worship.

“Fuck me, I need you to fuck me.” Came the guttural raw voice above, fractured with need. It was intense.

Sabine brought her hand to her mouth sucking on three fingers getting them good and ready. She pressed them into a point then probed teasingly as Marguerite growled.

“Fucking do it.”

Sabine did, she plunged her fingers right in, feeling clenching but not resistance. She raised up on to her feet again so she could get a better angle, twisting her palm up then stood to witness her lover begin to unravel at her hands. Marguerite fell back onto her elbows, head lolling, legs wide, pelvis tipped, cunt gushing and clenching on Sabine’s fingers. The heat coming off them both was like a furnace. Sabine started fingering Marguerite harder, three fingers thrusting hard right up to the knuckles. She twisted, opening up the digits inside to stretch and press at Marguerite’s g-spot.

“Yes, yes, do it, harder.”

Sabine obliged, feeling her own pleasure surge and swell. She shoved Marguerite back a bit so she could grind her own cunt into the wooden edge of the table. She humped while she fucked, pushing in harder and deeper each time, hinting that she might add another finger, Marguerite’s body signalling she wanted more.

Sabine reached in her back pocket for a sachet of lube she’d grabbed on the way out of her flat.

The memory of picking it up and stuffing it in her pocket brought her in a flash to counting…

Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

Fuck no, no, she pulled her focus back to the here and now and tore open the sachet with her teeth, other hand still firmly wedged into her lover’s cunt.

She squeezed the cool fluid out over Marguerite’s ruddy labia and her own hand causing Marguerite to flinch just a little. Sabine loved the way her inner muscles clenched from being startled. Marguerite lifted her head to watch what was about to happen. They locked gazes for a second and then both looked to the action.

They were both trembling as Sabine squeezed out more fluid, the sticky clear substance mingling with Marguerite’s own desire. It felt so silky, so slippery, so delicious.

She could telly Marguerite was holding her breath

“Shhh just relax,” she said, discarding the empty lube packet and gently placing her free hand on her lover’s mound just above where her other hand stretched her open.

She used two fingers to part Marguerite’s labia, running the lube into her clit, feeling spasms increase with every circle. It was beautiful. She slowly rhythmically twisted her own hips into the table in time, rubbing her slit into the wet crease of fabric and jean zipper.

She watched, almost febrile with excitement as she withdrew the three fingers adding her pinkie to the group before gently, slowly pressing all four into the tight hole in front of her.

The tips went in easily, flesh yielding, right to her second knuckle, it was mesmerising to watch her lover’s body open up to accommodate her. She crossed her thumb across her palm, twisting left and right to stretch and make her lover ready.

“Just breathe,” she whispered and as Marguerite exhaled, Sabine pushed her fiver fingers to almost the widest point. They stopped, and Sabine circled Marguerite’s clit with her fingertips, feeling warmth and wetness spread inside as she did. Marguerite was close, so close, she didn’t know if she’d be able to push any further. Then the shuddering began… both women began to shake. The surging overtaking them. Sabine pulsed back and forth, loving the way the action started at her shoulder, it felt like she really was fucking her girl now, nice and stretched, good and deep, if she could just take one more…

And then, and then, with a roar from Marguerite, Sabine’s hand slipped inside. Warmth, gushing, pulsating, Sabine felt consumed by her lover, taken in and absorbed into her soul. She slowly, slowly twisted her hand round to the left, so that she could manoeuvre to a squatting position to lean in and lick Marguerite’s clit while she fisted her.

It freed up her other hand to delve into her jeans, finding the fire of her cunt, her pussy swallowing up her fingers as she frigged herself with one hand jammed in her lover, tongue going to work on the erect clit.

She was lost, utterly lost in sensation now, feeling like she’d climbed inside the soul of her lover, the universe fell away, everything turned to warmth and light. Deep pulsing held their world and suddenly everything stilled. Her fingertips brushed her clit and in a flurry fuck, she was coming—so was Marguerite—they were convulsing and moaning and shrieking and gushing, everything was soaked as they splattered their climax over each other.

“Fuck, fuck,” Marguerite reached down grabbing Sabine’s wrist, holding it still as she bucked and writhed around it.

Sabine was transfixed, it was sensational—overwhelming.

When the spasming finally subsided and the grip around Sabine’s hand relaxed, Sabine gently withdrew.

“Holy shit.” Marguerite was up on one arm, the other covering her mouth as her shoulders shook, she giggled.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

Sabine smiled and ran her arms round behind Marguerite’s back, drawing her in, kissing her, feeling the fabric of her pants and jeans begin to cool.

“Yes, yes it was.” She nuzzled into her lover’s neck, then pulled her forwards and lifted her off the table, carrying her through to the sofa where they lay for a long time, blissed out and silent, listening to each other’s breath.

It wasn’t until Sabine went to the bathroom over an hour later and the familiar unconscious tapping of the doorframe started, that she realised that for that entire time, lying there with Marguerite in a post coital haze, that she hadn’t counted once. Not once.

Tears threated to spill as Sabine walked back through to watch Marguerite gently doze, arms folded across her perfect breasts, chest rising and falling without a care in the world. That woman lying there was going to be the one, the one that freed her.

She could feel it.

And just as the thought formed, Sabine started counting.

Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

For more tentative explorations into the erotic world of romantic fisting you could read, Southpaw.

If you’re struggling with your mental health right now – I’ve found this site called Support Line that seems to have an extensive list of activities and organisations you might find useful.

Or you could *be like me and bottle it up inside until it comes out as erotica somewhere down the line.

Note *don’t be like me. Try and talk to someone…

Lots of love, my heart to yours

Tabitha x x

Tabitha Rayne home page logo - stockings and heels with words, With Love

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