I had not been feeling well for a couple of days when I was a freshman at the local college. Since I was still living at home, mom kept me home to take care of me. As I woke up from a nap, I heard mom on the phone.
“This is the second day I’ve kept him home from class. I’m wondering whether I should call the doctor?”
No, I thought during the pause in his mom’s conversation, you shouldn’t. I’m not that sick.
“Well, he just says his stomach doesn’t feel good.” Another pause. “No. I took his temperature this morning and it was normal.” A shorter pause. “No, he hasn’t vomited. He just says his tummy doesn’t feel good.” A slightly longer pause. “Well, now, I’m not sure. Just a second.” Louder now: “Jeff, have you had a bowel movement today?”
“No, Mom.” Geez, what a question. Who the hell is she talking to about my bowels, anyway?
“No, he hasn’t. Do you think I should give him a laxative? I’ve got milk of magnesia, and I believe there are some Correctol tables in the cabinet.” Pause. “Oh, I see. No, I don’t have one here. But I’m going out. I can buy one at the drug store, I suppose. I don’t know if he’ll cooperate though. You know how boys are when they get older.” Another pause.
Who IS she talking to?
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Pause. “Well … if you’re sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I don’t want to impose.” Now what? “You’re so sweet. Listen, I have to run out to pick up some things at the dry cleaner’s and then stop by the grocery store. But if you’re sure you don’t mind. He’s in bed, so just let yourself in. I’ll leave the kitchen door unlocked. OK, thanks honey. I’ll tell him. Bye.”
In a moment, mom appeared in the doorway. “Jeff, honey, I’ve got to run some errands. I’ll be out for a while. Marie Crawford is coming over to see you. She used to be a nurse, so whatever she says, I want you to cooperate. OK?”
Marie Crawford! Good God! “Yeah, OK, Mom,” I said, feigning indifference.” Marie coming here? Lord in heaven. Marie Crawford was a 37-year-old divorcee who lived down the block. I had recently taken to stopping by her house whenever I saw her working in her flower beds. Marie usually wore a loose halter top that afforded me a splendid view of her full breasts, swaying and jiggling with her exertions. I would gab away with her, casually slumped over the handle bars of my bike, all the while cockily assuming that she was unaware of the expanse of bosom that she was revealing to my keen gaze.
Jeff would have been astounded to learn that from her vantage point on the ground, Marie had enjoyed her own little show. One day, her eye had caught a movement beneath the leg of his gym shorts. Jeff wasn’t wearing underpants, and Marie had spent a half hour eyeing his penis and marveling at its inordinate size.
She had decided that very day that, somehow, she must find a way to get her hands on this robust specimen of young manhood. And now, like a blessing from heaven, Jeff’s mother had given her the perfect opportunity.
About fifteen minutes after Jeff’s mother left to run her errands, Jeff heard the kitchen door open. “Jeff? Are you home?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I’m in my room” Marie breezed down the hallway and into his room as if this were an everyday occurrence. Jeff’s eyes swept over her. She was wearing white terry-cloth shorts that fit loosely and had a puffy elastic waistband. Topping this off was a pink blouse with the shirttail tied in a square knot, accentuating her bosoms and leaving her trim midriff exposed. Strolling to his bed, she set down the paper bag she was carrying and sat on the edge of the bed. She eyed him professionally.
“Your mother said you haven’t been feeling well, honey. What seems to be the problem?”
I just feel kind of sick,” Jeff said. “My stomach doesn’t feel too good.”
“I see,” she said. “Well, let’s just have a look.” She raised his pajama top and began pressing gently about his abdomen. Jeff marveled at the silky feel of her hand on his bare skin. “Does it hurt when I press on it?” she asked.
Marie continued her examination. When her fingers flipped beneath the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms, Jeff tensed up. “Did that hurt?” she asked.
Marie probed under the elastic, inching downward until her fingertips brushed the soft edge of pubic hair. “When was the last time you moved your bowels, hon?”
Jeff’s faced flushed. “I don’t know. I guess it was a couple of days ago.”
“I see,” she said, nodding. “I think that explains why you don’t feel so well. You’re constipated and probably need something to help you got to the bathroom. What I’m going to do, honey, is give you an enema to wash your tummy out. You’ll feel better after you have a bowel movement. Have you ever had an enema, Jeff?”
He blushed deeply. “I don’t think so …well, maybe when I was little. I think Mom gave me one with one of those little squeeze things.” Jeff’s cheeks burned at the thought of Marie probing him in that area.
“Those little squeeze things are for babies and small children,” Marie explained in a voice as soft and light as the air itself. “I brought an enema bag with me.” She indicated the paper sack on the floor. “You’re an adult now and you can take an adult-size enema, hon.” Boy, are you big enough, she thought, recalling the view beneath those loose shorts. “Just relax here for a few minutes while I go in the kitchen and get it ready. I’ll fix some warm soapy water and we’ll give you a good washing out.”
Jeff stirred uneasily. “I don’t think I need that,” he said, embarrassed. “I’ll be OK.”
Marie laid her hand on Jeff’s abdomen. “I know you don’t want to, honey,” she said in soothing tones as soft as a whisper. “One time when I was about your age, my mother had to give me an enema, and I didn’t like the idea at all. She used to call it ‘Mother’s little helper.’ But after she gave it to me, I really did feel better. I promise you it won’t hurt. OK, honey?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jeff said.
Marie smiled. “Good,” she said as she gave his abdomen a few gentle strokes. As she rose, she brushed her fingers lightly down the front of his pajama pants and felt the thick, warm tube beneath the fabric. Jeff flinched violently but pretended not to notice. He lay there listening as Marie ran water in the kitchen. In a few minutes, she appeared in the bedroom door holding the bulging red enema bag and coiled hose. “Why don’t you come with me into the bathroom, Jeff,” she said. “I think I’d better work on you in there.” Work on me! Good God!
Jeff obediently climbed out of bed and followed her down the hall. He watched as Marie hung the bag on the hook behind the door. Then she turned to him.
“We’ll have to take these off.” Marie hooked her fingers over the waistband of his pajama pants and in one smooth motion whisked them down over his hips, letting them fall around his ankles. Her breath caught and she felt a thump in her groin as she gazed at the thick penis dangling heavily below his pajama top. The soft, plum-capped tube shown stark white under the fluorescent lights, and she could see fine blue veins standing out under its sheath of translucent skin. Marie could barely suppress the desire to kneel, take that the ripe plum in her mouth, and tongue the magnificent organ into taut, trembling stiffness.
“Now there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she said, seeing his face color a deep red. Marie spoke as much to her own embarrassment as to Jeff’s. “I used to be a nurse, and I’ve given enemas to lots of male patients. Besides, there’s no one here but the two of us.” Marie knelt and patted the soft rug. “Why don’t you lie down here for me, on your back.” Moving like a robot and feeling like one, Jeff awkwardly lowered himself to the floor and lay back. He watched as Marie took a towel from a rack and folded it into a compact pad. “Raise up just a little, honey, and let me slip this under your hips. There. Now, I want you to pull your feet up and rest them flat on the floor.”
Jeff followed her instructions. His buttocks now rested on the pad about two inches above the rug. Marie stood and turned, lifting onto her toes as she searched in the medicine cabinet and found a jar of Vaseline. Jeff looked up the loose legs of her shorts, eyeing the roll of her bottom bulging softly out of the stretch-lace edge of her panties.
Marie turned and dipped a delicate finger into the Vaseline. Her eyes met Jeff’s. He was mesmerized as he watched her run her finger up and down the tapered black nozzle, turning and dabbing until the obscene little shaft was glistening with lubricant.
“We’re all set,” she said lightly as she knelt beside him. “Let’s have you move your feet a little further apart - that’s fine. Now, I’ll insert the nozzle and we can get started. This is going to take a little while. I’m going to give it to you slowly so you don’t get cramps.”
Jeff’s thick penis hung down between his legs, almost touching the floor. He flinched as Marie deftly grasped it and lifted, exposing the target. “Just relax, honey,” she breathed. “This isn’t going to hurt.” She bent her head between his knees, and Jeff felt the rounded syringe tip probing ever so gently at his anus, which he unconsciously constricted. “Try to relax your bottom just a little,” Marie coaxed softly.
Jeff tried to focus on loosening the right muscle and was startled when the nozzle suddenly slipped into his rectum. “There,” Marie sighed with satisfaction. Jeff heard a soft click as she released the clasp on the rubber tube, and he immediately felt the warm soap solution spurting into his rectum.
Marie was still lightly holding his penis up, and he was mortified to feel her fingers moving about on the heavy, limp shaft. It couldn’t be! She’s playing with it, feeling me up! Good GOD! Jeff desperately tried to concentrate his thoughts elsewhere … playing basketball, riding his bike, mowing the lawn. Oh, God, he prayed, don’t let me get a hard on! But the slippery little nozzle penetrating his rectum and the spreading warmth of the enema combined with Marie’s gently shifting fingers to produce the one effect that Jeff dreaded most … and the one effect that Marie had every intention of producing. His penis began to swell and throb, stretching and thickening far beyond its flaccid dimensions, quickly attaining such proportions that Marie’s slender fingers could barely encircle it.
Jeff wanted to say something by way of explanation or apology, or perhaps just to distract Marie’s attention from what she could hardly fail to notice. But all he could manage was a little groan deep in his throat. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed, honey,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. “You’ve got an erection, but that’s normal for males. Did you know that even little boys get an erection when you give them an enema? It used to happen all the time when I was a nurse on the pediatric wing. Sometimes they would get hard just from a rectal thermometer. It’s a very sensitive area.”
Jeff tried to reply but only made a little rasping sound. He was literally speechless from the combined effects of erotic stimulation and profound embarrassment.
Marie was in awe that the boy’s soft, rubbery organ could so quickly rise bolt upright. It felt as think and as hard as an ax handle in her delicate hand. Her mind reeled, and she wanted to simply stand, peel off her shorts and panties, and settle herself astride him, flaring her hips and allowing that massive stake to be slowly, deliciously engulfed in the tender passage that was, at this moment, dripping lubricious juices through her panties and soaking the crotch of her shorts.
She looked into Jeff’s eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry. We nurses know all about THESE things,” she said, giving his penis a squeeze on “these.” “An enema causes sexual tension down here, so it’s normal for you to be aroused by it. In fact,” her voice dropped to a stage whisper, “Don’t tell anyone, but when I give myself an enema, it turns me on, too. I had to take one just a few days ago. I always get worked up when that nozzle goes up in me.”
Jeff’s mind reeled at the thought of Marie probing her beautiful bottom with this very nozzle. It added a strange sense of intimacy to the moment. “And remember,” Marie continued, “There’s not a soul here but us, Jeff, and I promise I won’t say a word to anyone about this. Your mother won’t know a thing about it. OK?” Another little squeeze for emphasis.
Jeff gave her a tight little smile and squeaked out, “OK.”
Marie ran her fingers up and down the enormous shaft, which was now standing rigidly upright without any need of assistance from her. “If I tell you sometime very personal, Jeff, will you keep it between us?”
“Sure,” Jeff whispered.
“Well, when I give myself an enema and all that sexual tension builds up in me, I find that it helps if I masturbate and release the tension. Would you like me to help you release that tension?”
“OK,” Jeff croaked, his mind spinning as if he were whirling through outer space.
“I’ll just do this a little,” Marie said. “And remember, I won’t say a word to anyone.” Marie began gently pumping his penis, deliriously aghast at its length and thickness. She inspected the swollen purple head, noting with satisfaction its hooded, tapered shape, not unlike the head of a boa constrictor she remembered from the biology lab when she was in college. Good God! Jeff thought. She’s beating me off!
His hips wiggled as tingling, crawly sensations surged through his groin. Still holding the enema nozzle with one hand, Marie snugged its tapered hilt against Jeff’s tightly clinched anus and rotated it to and fro, sending a new wave of sensations up Jeff’s spine. She stepped up the tempo of her pumping with the other hand. “I know that feels delicious, Jeff,” she said. “Just enjoy it and forget about everything else. You need to release that tension.”
Marie let go of the nozzle, which was securely clinched in Jeff’s sphincter, and cupped his scrotum in her hand, letting her fingers gently bobble his warm, heavy balls around in their jellied sack. Her right hand was pumping rapidly now, but with a surprisingly gentle grip. She closed her hand around he testicles and pressed her bunched fingertips into the meaty tissue under his scrotum. Jeff closed his eyes and arched his back, breathing rapidly through his nose. “That’s fine, Jeff,” Marie said breathlessly. “Just go with it, hon.” Her hand was flashing up and down in a blur. Jeff felt as though worms were churning down through his belly into the pit of his stomach, burrowing furiously into the base of his penis. The enema nozzle made his anus tingle unbearably, as if it were electrically charged. Never had he experienced such blindingly erotic sensations.
Suddenly Jeff arched his back and gasped violently as a thick stream of semen erupted into the air and fell with an audible slap on his belly. Marie’s breasts rose and fell with her breathing as she watched the huge purple head throb and erupt again, bathing her hand in thick, pearly fluid. Marie slowed her pump with the tempo of Jeff’s breathing, milking the huge shaft of its last drops of semen. Jeff turned his head away and kept his eyes closed, utterly consumed, utterly spent. In that state of sweet oblivion, Jeff did not see Marie’s hand slip between her legs, didn’t see her fingers knead her crotch - didn’t see her head fall back and her lips part in an ecstatic grimace as wave after orgasmic wave washed over her.