Little Sally Fister

** Inspired by Every Tenth Fisting is Free by LadyBuxom (www.literotica.com/s/every-tenth-fisting-is-free). The idea of the story itched something in my brain. After a few days of thinking about it, I had a go at retelling it in my own way, as a sort of writing exercise/practice. All credit to LadyBuxom for the original story.**

Rebecca hadn't done her laundry. For three days now, she had put the task off until it was too late in the day to start, and decided that she would instead tackle it tomorrow, and then she decided that again, three more times. She had no clean underpants left. She had no clean trousers or jeans left. She was wearing a skirt with no underwear to her waxing appointment. She was in the self-conscious middle ground between irritation, for having failed to do such a basic adult task, and a slight, giddy horniness.

She turned onto the street of the wax salon, and the wind changed, tugging at the hem of her skirt and her exposed skin underneath. This is a bit silly, she thought, holding the skirt down. This is the setup to a porno.

She entered the salon. She asked for a Brazilian. As she settled into her seat, she considered leaving her legs open a little bit. She could be depraved. She could commit a public indecency offence. She could be Sharon Stone.

She crossed her legs.

Sally entered the room. "Well, hello," she said, grinning when she saw Rebecca.

"Hello, yourself."

"It's been a while."

"You sound like my dentist."

Sally led her through the beaded doorway to the back section of the building, passing identical sliding doors, all closed. "You're busy today," Rebecca said. Sally led her to the last room.

"We're in the trenches here. Drowning in pussy." Sally gestured grandly at the table. "But we always have time for our esteemed regulars. Former regulars," she corrected.

"Ha. Nothing personal, it's just been a busy few months."

"More shuffling about the departments?"

"Nah, thank god. That's sorted now, kind of. Brian's just been working insane hours, and between kids, and feeding everyone, and annual reviews, and--and laundry..." Rebecca sat heavily. "You know how it is."

"You need a break, is what I'm hearing."

"Oh, I'm a step ahead of you. We're going on vacation. And I'm going back to bald. And I'm going to get a tan, and drink cocktails, and not think about godforsaken...PowerPoints for a while."

"You're so wise."

"How's the course going? Exams have gotta be coming up soon, surely?"

Sally gave her a long suffering look. "Oh, boy, wait 'til you hear. But look, first--I'll be back." She left the room, sliding the door behind her. Rebecca sat further back on the table, swinging her feet. She didn't really need to take anything off. Just hike her silly, slutty skirt up.

While she sat waiting, it occurred to her that she needed to pee. Not enough that it was urgent, but the more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable it became. She didn't exactly want to be holding back pee while Sally was fiddling with her genitals.

She considered some more, then stood and made for the door. She poked her head out, hoping to see Sally. The corridor was empty. She'll figure it out, Rebecca thought, stepping out.

The sliding door opposite the bathroom was slightly open. Unthinkingly, Rebecca glanced in as she passed, and faltered. A woman lay on a table, naked from the waist down, her legs spread and her body gyrating as one of the salon workers vigorously pumped her gloved fingers into her.

Rebecca closed the bathroom door behind her, and locked the door, and stood shock still, blinking.

In a daze, she sat, and peed.

Had she misinterpreted? Definitely not: the view offered by the gap was limited, but there was no denying what was happening. Rebecca has seen that woman's lips, her hairless bump, her pink clit. She had seen the purple gloved hand, fingers undeniably lodged inside her vagina. She had heard her moaning like she had achieved nirvana. That was the first time she had heard another woman moaning in real life, Rebecca thought as she wiped. Sounded much the same as it did in porn, but still. It felt as absurd and magical as the first time she had seen a dick in real life.

When she left the bathroom, the gap still hadn't been closed, but there was no one on the table. She could hear shuffling, and voices, and a laugh. Rebecca wished she had seen the woman's face.

She re-entered her room. Sally was there, stirring a pot of wax on the table beside the table. She looked up at Rebecca when she entered, about to say something, then her face changed as she met Rebecca's eye.

"Mm," was all she said.

Rebecca felt like a child caught doing something bad. "What--is that?" she said, gesturing in the direction of the corridor.

Sally's expression was neutral. "You saw one of our special treatments being performed."

"I mean...the door was kinda open."

Sally's eyes flickered. "Gimme a sec," she said, leaving the room. Standing in the one spot felt awkward, so Rebecca sat. She heard voices outside, a joint, bright goodbye presumably directed at the woman, and then a quieter, less bright exchange. Rebecca heard an apology.

Sally returned, shutting the door behind her. "Privacy is absolutely paramount here," she said, after a pause, with a shake of her head, "when we are dealing with clients who trust us enough to be incredibly vulnerable and exposed in our presence, but especially in this instance. Unacceptable, making a mistake like that."

"Uh-huh." Then, "That's a--a service you do now? What else have I missed?"

"We have for a little bit, now. Started kind of, I don't know--accidentally."

"Uh-huh." There was a silence, then Rebecca let out a sharp little laugh. "Sorry. Sorry. Just, dude, I am so caught off guard."

"Well, I'd be surprised if you weren't." Sally sat on the stool in the corner of the room. "It is something some of us on staff perform, but it's all with a therapeutic focus, same as all our other services. Obviously, it's not exactly the same as waxing and beauty treatments, and we can't exactly advertise, or...or have it generally be known." She remained guarded.

"I'm not weirded out," Rebecca said. She considered clunkily bringing up her progressive views on sex work which she had picked up from a Vice article. "It's just a surprise. But I mean, come on. I get it. It sounds kind of great. Like, y'know, who doesn't, like--who doesn't want that? Ultimate stress reliever, and all...that."

"Well," Sally said, "you've very succinctly summarised the entire philosophy." She regarded Rebecca for a beat. Rebecca looked at Sally's arms, crossed over the chest, her tattoos dancing up into the sleeves of her salon tunic, her hands curled around each opposite, defined bicep. "We don't do it for a huge number of people. Just people we trust, people who I thought would be cool with it and enjoy it. People I've known a while."

"It's a small town...girl, how many of the people who come here are people we know from school? You--you hardly do it for school people?"

"I can't possibly say."

"You've been therapeutically fingering people we went to school with."

"My particular focus is fisting."

"Oh my god, Sally."

Sally giggled, and Rebecca joined in. The whole exchange, the whole appointment was surreal. Tendrils of embarrassment still clung to her. But she was also increasingly aware of her nakedness under her skirt, and an increasing urge to act, to take a step.

Sally leaned back in her seat, shrugging. "I mean...we're here now. It can't get weirder."

Rebecca's stomach swooped. "It definitely could," she said evenly. Sally's mouth tugged up in a slight smile. She's asking, Rebecca realised. The muscles of her pussy clenched involuntarily. "Is it not considered cheating?" she asked.

"I can't decide that for you. But for me, I view it as purely therapeutic. I provide a service, and that's it."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okiedokie," Rebecca said. She was vibrating.

"Well," Sally said, standing, "Okay, then. Same as always." She pointed at the table. "I'm going to reheat this wax."

Rebecca lay down, then remembered she hadn't wiped down with the pre-wax wipe. She opened the packet, and hurriedly used the opportunity to clean away the evidence of how wet she was. There was a stain on the back of the skirt where she had been sitting on it.

"Up," Sally said when she came back. Rebecca began to pull her skirt up around her waist, leaving herself exposed. "Gonna get you waxed first. Usual?"

Rebecca bit back the childish urge to whine. "Yeah," she said.

It was torturous, waiting through the waxing. There was nothing different in the way Sally waxed her, her fingers touching Rebecca in the same way she always did. Rebecca, however, was painfully, helplessly horny.

Sally pressed the flat of her palm against a freshly-waxed patch, immediately soothing the sting. "You good?" she asked. Her finger brushed against Rebecca's clit as she brought the hand away.

"Mm-hmm. Absolutely," Rebecca said.

Rebecca took in Sally, watching as she worked. Was she attracted to her? She could appreciate Sally's attractiveness, the long limbs that she grew into as an adult, her tattoos, the confidence and ease with which she moved and interacted with others. She was an attractive woman, but Rebecca wasn't feeling attraction beyond the same easy friendship they had maintained over the years. It felt dirtier this way. Someone doing this to her when she wasn't even interested in them in a sexual way. She felt wild.

Her ears pricked at the sound of the cup of wax being set down. "Alright," Sally whispered to herself, inspecting her work and removing stray hairs with a pair of tweezers. "Are you happy to continue?"

"Yes."

Sally began to apply something new. Rebecca looked down: massage oil. She had also put on gloves, and a disposable apron. My life is a porno, she thought hysterically.

"When you said you do fisting..."

"Not possible for everyone," Sally said. She began to rub up Rebecca's inner thighs, kneading slowly, "but a lot more people are capable of being fisted than you'd expect."

"Well...first for everything," Rebecca said, flutters exploding across her skin as Sally's massages began including her labia.

"So, you want for me to try?"

"Oh, yeah."

A finger started tracing her inner lips, and her hips rolled of their own volition. "You get this at home?" Sally asked, her voice low.

"Uh..." Rebecca blinked up at the ceiling. "Not really. Not recently, anyway, it's been a--well, a dry spell is generous. It's a drought. We've just been too busy and tired and stressed..." Sally flicked a finger gently over Rebecca's clit, a feather touch that made Rebecca twitch. "But even then, we've always been a hard and fast couple. It's fun to, y'know...go wild, to feel so horny that you skip straight to the fucking, I do like that, it's hot, it's satisfying in itself, but it does mean that, uh...I go without sometimes. Good lord," she said. "I think you got rid of my filter too, when you were getting rid of the hair."

Sally let out a laugh. "You could talk to him about it," she said, "if you feel like you need something more."

"I could," Rebecca said, attention drifting as a finger entered her hole. The hot tingles of being gently stroked morphed into a deeper, sharper pleasure. Sally's finger explored inside her, slow in-and-outs, before another finger was added and they were directed towards her g-spot.

Rebecca let out a groan, immediately clamping a hand over her mouth.

"Don't worry," Sally said, a smile in her voice. "The place is soundproofed."

Another finger was added, and another, and Rebecca sailed higher and higher. She could no longer keep her breathing silent: her breaths were quick and deep, and her entire body pulsed. She never wanted this to end.

She felt the cold addition of lube, and then she was aware of knuckles, pressing up against her. "Big breath in," Sally said, in the exact same way she did before ripping off a strip of wax, and Rebecca sucked in a breath as Sally's fist slowly, inch by inch, opened her up. Rebecca moaned, unable to care about editing it to sound less animalistic. She felt tiny and huge and powerful and at Sally's mercy and so improbably full.

Sally began moving her hand out slightly, the wideness of her fist stretching Rebecca open as it moved towards her entrance, before Sally plunged it pack in again. Her fingers pressed against somewhere deep inside Rebecca that lit up brightly with every pump, teetering somewhere between pleasure and pain, a sensation that sent waves throughout Rebecca's entire body. I'm going to come, Rebecca realised, I'm going to come, I'm going to come...

A new sensation built up low in Rebecca's stomach, promising imminent, intense relief. "Oh shit," Rebecca gasped, "fuck, fuck, I'm gonna--"

"Let it happen, let it happen...." Sally said, twisting her fist slowly and expertly like she could read Rebecca's mind, and Rebecca's muscles contracted and released as she gushed all over Sally's arm, the sound of wetness as Sally kept pumping in and out utterly obscene. Warmth flooded across Rebecca's pussy, pooling around her buttocks. She could hear drops hitting the floor.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Rebecca groaned, tremoring hands gripping the side of the table.

"Mm...I think you can do that again," Sally said, placing her other hand above Rebecca's mound and pressing down, moving the hand inside Rebecca like she wanted to scoop out the contents: with every pump, liquid streamed out, pattering onto the table as Rebecca writhed.

A deep, urgent feeling began to build up deep within her. She could see static. "Keep going, holy fuck, keep going..."

Sally maintained an unrelenting pace, pushing Rebecca closer and closer until she tipped into an overwhelming orgasm, clenching hard around Sally's fist, her ab muscles seizing and her head rolling back. Before the orgasm fully ebbed, Sally began to rub at Rebecca's clit, exposed and desperately erect, as she continued fisting her, and the shock of overstimulation quickly gave way to a second orgasm, the full-body pulsations nearly painful.

Slowly, Rebecca sank back down onto the table, muscles relaxing one by one. She dragged air into her lungs. Sally slowly worked her hand out. She placed her hand over all of Rebecca's genitals, pressing in gently, soothing and grounding.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Rebecca said. "What the fuck."

"I think you enjoyed that."

Rebecca raised her head to look at Sally. She was moving away, starting to clean up. "I'm really sorry about the--I should have warned you about--"

"You think squirters are a shock to me?"

"I mean, some people are just icked by it."

"I don't care. It's a sign someone feels so good, so overwhelmed, they can't just hold back anymore. I take it as a compliment."

"When you put it like that...Look, Sally," Rebecca said, slowly sitting herself up, "that was incredible. Thank you. I can't thank you enough."

Sally have a beaming smile. "My pleasure."

Sally gave her more wipes and left the room, and Rebecca cleaned herself off. She stared disbelievingly around at her surroundings one last time before she left and headed back towards reception.

Sally was behind the desk, talking to the receptionist. "Feeling better?" she asked.

Rebecca assessed herself: underneath the shock and giddiness, there was a strange, unexpected current of calm. "Definitely," she said. Then, she frowned. "I never even got asking you about your course."

"Whatever," Sally said. "I'll catch you up next time. Just make sure it's not so long that I've forgotten."

"Forty-five, when you're ready," the receptionist told her.

Rebecca looked over at Sally.

"First add-on treatment is complimentary," she said, with an innocent shrug.

Rebecca's waxed skin tingled, and her insides throbbed pleasantly, and the breath of wind that snuck up her skirt when she opened the door brought to attention how wet and tacky she still was, even after the thorough wipe down. She needed a shower.