That August was very meaningful in my sexual development. I was sixteen, well developed, confused by my arising sexuality.
We had a red big bulb with an enema nozzle, stored in our bathroom cabinet in a brown paper bag. It was there the day I was born, and did not draw any special attention.
One Friday morning, while my grandmother stayed with us for the weekend, I was constipated.
Mom gave me prunes to eat, and grandma suggested an enema . Mom told her our enema bag was leaking and grandma suggested “Why won’t she enjoy the douche bulb?” with a tiny wink in the corner of her eye. Mom had a sudden terrified look, as if afraid of grandma’s next sentence, and told me to go into the bathroom and get prepared. I did not like the idea, but did not want to argue. Grandma was a very dominant person.
Mom opened the bathroom cabinet and took out the brown paper bag containing the red bulb and the Vaseline jar. I noticed the paper bag was wet, and wondered why. She held the red bulb with one hand, her other hand kept in the water stream to check its temperature. When it seemed sufficient to her she filled the red bulb and secured the enema nozzle into the bulb. She turned to me and motioned me into the bathtub.
I took off my panties, raised my gown and stepped into the bath tub, standing on me knees, elbows on the bathtub edges, bottom up. Mom gently separated my ass cheeks with her finger and thumb, and applied a generous amount of Vaseline on my asshole. The cold cream on my asshole made my clit tingle. Mom massaged the Vaseline on my sphincter, and slowly inserted the tip of her finger into me, in a circular motion. My clit was instantly erect and swollen, and I become very wet.
I was very embarrassed, not wanting Mom to notice my arousal. I felt my face red hot and rested my face on my hands, looking away from her. Mom then carefully inserted the enema nozzle into me. Although the nozzle was much thinner than her finger, I felt another series of tingling in my clit. I wanted very much to touch it, as I did regularly, but of course could not because of Mom’s presence. When all the nozzle was in, and I felt the bulb touching my ass cheeks, Mom began to slowly squeeze the bulb. The squeezing effort made the nozzle vibrate gently, arousing me more.
She took the nozzle out and told me not to move and not to expel because she was preparing another load. She told me I should remind her to buy a decent enema bag, since the bulb did not contain enough liquid for grownups. I felt the insertion was part of the fun, and closed my eyes, enjoying the next four loads. After the fifth load she told me not expel for about 5 minutes, and began to wash the nozzle. I wanted her out of the bathroom so I told her I’ll do it later. The moment she was out of the bathroom my index finger was around my clit, caressing it until I began gasping for air and the waves of orgasm shook my whole body.
I decided to try it again, whenever I had my full privacy. And I wondered who used it recently before me - I remembered the wet paper bag - and to which purpose.
Later that day I wanted to have a bubble bath. I had my shower and then prepared the bath, laid in it, all immersed in the warm water, my head resting just above the water. After a while Mom knocked the door and told me she needed the toilet before she went out with grandma. I told her I’d like to stay in the bath some more, and suggested she close my curtain. She unwillingly agreed. I heard her doing something in the cabinet, and opened my eyes. Lucky me - there was a crack between the curtain and the wall and I could see her in the bathroom mirror. She took out of the cabinet the vaginal rinse bottle and an elongated object wrapped in brown paper bag. She fumbled with the bag, and took out of it a beautiful shiny black, slightly curved, 15 cm long, 3 cm diameter nozzle with bulbous head, its other end fitting the red bulb douche! I nearly fainted. Trembling with desire, I slowly moved my hand underwater to cover my bush, my finger touching my clit.
Mom opened the faucet, looked around for something, did not find it, told me not to open the curtain because she wasn’t through yet and rushed out. I moved my head slightly sideways, to have a better view. She returned holding a big plastic can and filled it with water, then added the vaginal rinse. She squeezed the air out of the bulb and filled it with the solution, and then attached the nozzle.
She took off her panties, lifted her gown to her waist and positioned herself over the toilet, facing the mirror, her legs at each side, her knees slightly bent. She took the bulb with her right hand, her left hand separating her labia. She tried to insert the nozzle. Maybe she was too dry because after her first attempt she began moving the length of the nozzle between her labia. It was apparent she enjoyed the process - her eyes closed, a smile on her parted lips. She pulled herself suddenly and shot a quick glance towards the curtain, lifted the bulb and examined the nozzle, now glistening with her fluids. Satisfied, she inserted it into herself with one long slow motion, a quick intake of air filling her lungs the moment the nozzle touched her entrance. She paused a little when all the length of the nozzle was hidden in her, then started to squeeze the bulb, most of its content dripping into the toilet and some along her legs.
The sight drove me crazy. I frantically moved my finger along my slit, afraid to make any sound, and could not reach my climax.
She slowly pulled the nozzle out, enjoying its movement and began preparing the second load when grandma’s voice startled both of us, asking Mom if everything was ok. Mom controlled a sudden flush of anger, hurriedly tidied everything up and went out.
The moment I heard the entrance door closing I was out of the bath, wrapped in towel. I rushed to the door and locked it, leaving the key in so I’d not be surprised. I went into the bathroom, took the douche nozzle and bulb out of its hiding place, fetched a towel (I am wetting a lot and didn’t want to stain the sheets) and went into my room, closing the door.
In no time I was in my bed under the covers. I laid on my back, the still warm douche nozzle under me, between my ass cheeks and the towel, the bulb touching my labia.
As I always used to, I began massaging my semi erect nipples with the open palms of my hands, feeling my clit begin to react, locking my ankles and occasionally playing with my thighs muscles.
When my nipples were fully erect and the tingling in my clit become almost unbearable, I lifted my knees, slightly parting them, and took the bulb with the now warm nozzle. Cupping the bulb with my hand reminded me of my breast, and I enjoyed its feeling in my palm. I was dripping wet then. The moment the nozzle touched my clit I began to spasm, and in a matter of seconds I had my orgasm. I was not calm when it was over, and after a short rest I began to rub the long nozzle along my wet labia, letting my clit feel all its length. The nozzle was dry during the first strokes, and although my whole genitalia was wet I felt a little irritated.
I began to increase the pace of the strokes, each stroke sending a new wave of pleasure through my clit into my body. The moment I felt my first orgasmic wave unconsciously I turned the bulb slightly outwards, making only the nozzle head touch my labia, and continued the up and down movement.
And then a big orgasmic wave hit me - and I pushed the nozzle into myself and began a frantic in and out movement - deep into my vagina and then out and up to my clit and then again down my labia and deep into my vagina, ignoring the slight irritation caused by my popped cherry.
I felt very calm afterwards. I laid on my bed, planning my next experience - using both nozzles on myself.
I wanted sleep to swallow me, but had to get up, clean and tidy up everything. The moment I was back in my room I heard Mom’s car at the garage. She looked at me inquisitively, obviously seeing something I could not conceal, but did not say anything. I mumbled something about being tired and having to study and went to sleep.
Every time I visited the bathroom, I opened the cabinet door to ensure the nozzle was there. Sometimes it wasn’t, and I wondered why. Dad used to travel a lot on business, and I noticed that whenever he was out, the nozzle was missing. I was sure he was taking it with him for some reason, until the slumber party.
I attended a slumber party at one of the girls of my class, and the party turned to be a total failure. Very late at night (or rather very early the day after) I decided to call it a day and went back home. I could not open the door because the key on the other side was inserted in. I don’t know why, but instead of ringing the doorbell I went around our house and sneaked at Mom’s window. Never in my life will I forget that scene.
The drapes were drawn, but I could peep in through a very narrow slit. The bedroom was poorly lit. Mom was on bed, resting on her left elbow, naked. She held in her left hand a jar of Vaseline, opened it with her right and inserted her index in. Then she took her right hand backwards, her index finger pointed, glistening. She slid her finger between her ass cheeks and massaged her asshole. She did it very slowly, occasionally inserting her index.
My hand moved at its own will under my skirt, over my panties, to the area I so much enjoyed to play with, my finger moving slowly up and down my crack. After some time she took off her finger, turned on her back and cleaned her finger thoroughly with a paper tissue. She laid on her front and sent her hand under the bed, searching for something. Then she turned again to her left, and resting on her left elbow massaged her breasts. I saw her back moving as she began breathing heavily. Then her right hand appeared, holding the bulb with the big black douche nozzle.
Seeing it my heart missed a few bits, and then I felt my genitalia swell with desire. Silently I took off my panties, put it in my bag and moved my index slowly along the crack of my dripping wet labia.
Mom moved the nozzle tip up and down her ass crack, each time inserting it a little more between her ass cheeks. Finally she positioned it in the entrance, and began slowly to push it in, slowly rotating it between her thumb and fingers. She took her time doing it, obviously enjoying the rotational movement as the insertion. When all the length of the nozzle disappeared in her she began a rapid series of short in and out and rotational movements, occasionally drumming with her fingers on the bulb. She lifted her right knee, left the douche nozzle in its place and gave the attention of her right hand to her genitalia. While doing it, the nozzle was slowly coming out of her ass. Feeling it she returned her attention to it, repeating the rapid in and out and rotational movements until it was all in again.
She took a pillow and put it near her pelvis. Then she turned around on her back and positioned herself knees up, feet on the bed, pelvis on pillow, bulb on bed. In no time both her hands were busy with her nipples. After some time she slightly turned to her left and took an elongated white object (I had never seen a vibrator before), moved a switch at its base and began moving it around her nipples and then down to her clit. She moved it up and down a little, as if seeking for the desired place and angle. When she found it, she rotated it with her fingers and thumb. Occasionally, with her right hand, she played for a while with the bulb. Suddenly, her muscles tension grew and she began to gasp for air. She started moving the object along her labia into herself, and out, and up her labia. Each time it began its thrust in, and each time it first touched her clit, all her muscles contacted and she jumped a little.
All that time my index finger was frantically playing around my clit, as if having a will of its own. But I was too excited to reach my climax.
She half arose from bed, all trembling in her climax. And she fell on her bed like a rag doll, enjoying her after climax relaxation.
I was burning with desire. My first impulse was to go to the door, ring the bell and rush to my room. But I had to see where all the goodies were hidden. After a while she pulled the douche out of herself and began tidying her room. She thoroughly wiped the white object with a paper tissue, opened its base, took out batteries and put them into the battery charger. Then she opened the lowest drawer of her nightstand and buried it under her lingerie. She took the douche and Vaseline jar and went out of her room, obviously to the bathroom. That was the moment for me to go to the door.
It took Mom a few minutes to open the door for me. I avoided her eyes when I told her the slumber party was a wreck and rushed to my room. Trying to reconstruct the scene I witnessed while playing with myself made me cum. Frustrated at not being able to enjoy the douche I fell asleep, figuring out my chances to use the toys Mom played with.
Several weeks passed, and I could not find a chance to use it. I could use it, of course, in the bathroom, but wanted to use it in my bed. It became an obsession from which I did not yet fully recovered. Every night, in my bed, I imagined myself playing with it - and it aroused me too much, spoiling my climax so I fell asleep unsatisfied. Many spare minutes I spent figuring out how could I use it unnoticed, or how could I have one of my own. I visited neighborhood drugstores searching, in vain, for a douche like the one in our home. And I searched my room for a proper hiding place - and didn’t find one.
Ann, one of my best friends, was moving to another house in our neighborhood and asked me to help her packing. She had a bathroom of her own, and when I opened the cabinet door I was stunned - one of the shelves contained 2 red big bulbs, from each protruding a long, smooth, slightly curved douche nozzle - almost an exact replica of the one at home.
“Where did you get these from?” The question escaped my lips without me really meaning to ask - and I blushed.
She entered the bathroom, and said, “Oh, these” and blushed too. She was the first to recover herself. “My Grandma. Feminine hygiene, you know. Aren’t they beautiful?” and then, noticing my blush, she looked into my eyes and told me, “You can have one if I like.” Her eyes meant much more than that. “Speak about it when you visit me at my new house” she added, and rushed out. I was too embarrassed to take it.
A few weeks passed by. I met Ann daily, and wanted very much to speak to her about the douche, but was too embarrassed to do it. It seemed to me that it was the same with her. One day she invited me to the celebration party for her new house, and then added quickly, blushing: “My parents will be out for the night. The noise annoys them, you know. Would you spend the night with me? We could talk.” I accepted her invitation, blushing myself.
The party was as all parties were, and after the last guest was out we quickly tidied up the mess. We were both tense when we entered her bedroom, each very occupied with end of day tasks in order to avoid the subject on our minds. She went into her bathroom and emerged wearing her baby doll, leaving the door open for me. I took my nightgown and entered the bathroom, closing the door after me. As I turned, my heart missed a bit. On the floor, at the toilet side, was the red bulb douche, its nozzle proudly pointed up, glistening wet. I took it and sniffed at the nozzle - it had that unmistakable feminine scent. It aroused me, and I felt my clit tingling and my nipples erect. Hurriedly I changed my clothes and went to bed. Ann looked into my eyes. Satisfied with what she saw, she turned off the lights.
There was a long silence. We were both restrained, and although very close friends, never talked about sex. Ann was the first to break the long silence. Knowing I wasn’t asleep, she forced herself:
“We both have a secret. The same secret. I knew it the moment I’ve seen you looking at it. I was very happy to know I’m not the only one.” There was a long pause, she waiting for my reaction.
Finally I gathered myself. It wasn’t easy for me to speak. “No, you’re not the only one.” I wished I wasn’t there.
A long silence. Again, it was Ann who broke the silence. It was apparent she was forcing herself to speak. “It all started about a year ago, when Mike and me got closer. Although I didn’t go all the way with him, I went closer, and began thinking about making sure I’ll not get pregnant. It wasn’t necessary to use the pill, you know what I mean, and of course I could not ask Mom. Washing myself seemed to me the best solution. I used to rush to the bathroom each time we played, and after a while realized I enjoyed washing myself more than Mike playing with me. I took every opportunity to lock myself in the bathroom and play with it.”
Imaging her enjoying herself made me horny. “Am I a lesbian?” I thought to myself, and then, as if reading my thoughts, she added:
“And since I saw you looking at it, it’s you whom I see playing with herself when I’m doing myself.”
I could not utter a word.
She misinterpreted my silence. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to leap at you. I just thought that being such good friends enables us to be frank with each other. I’m really terribly sorry”
I sent my hand to her side of the bed, searching for her hand. I met her thigh, and let my hand stay there. “It’s the same with me. We aren’t lesbians, aren’t we?” I felt the warmth of her thigh feeling my hand, my body.
She half turned and began to caress my shoulder. “And if we are, who cares?” We began caressing each other, the more neutral parts of our bodies first, and then to the more intimate parts. She was the first to gain enough courage to cup my breast and manipulate its nipple lightly with her index finger first, and then, when it arose to be fully erect, between her thumb and index, gently, the way I did it to myself.
My barriers were down. I sent a sure demanding hand between her thighs, my index parting her dripping wet labia by an up and down movement, teasing her clit. She instantly did the same to me, and in no time we were both gasping for air, embracing each other in our climax. We stayed embraced afterwards, each having her own thoughts.
After a while she gently released me, saying: “Let me wash you properly. We don’t want it to feel neglected.” She turned on the light of the bedside lamp and went into the bathroom. I heard her feeling the bath. After a while she closed the tap and invited me in.
I was speechless when I entered the bath. The bathroom was dimly lit by the light of her bedside lamp only. She stood beside the bathtub, stark naked, holding the long curved nozzle. The red bulb was on the sink counter, empty. The nozzle was attached to the shower hose. “Come in, let me share my lover with you”, she smiled at me, pointing the nozzle at me and then moving it towards the bathtub.
I entered the tub, all immersed in water.
She turned the bulbous head of the nozzle a few turns, covered it with her left hand and opened the shower tap, adjusting the temperature and pressure. Water splashing between her fingers, she immersed her left hand in the water and passed the nozzle to her right, her left gently parting my thighs and slightly raising my knees. She moved slowly the nozzle between my thighs, the water stream emerging out of it caressing me. The tingling in my clit intensified as she came closer to it. I one movement she parted my labia with her left and touched my inner parts with the nozzle. I reached my climax in no time. She let me calm down and smiled at me : “And now to the best part. Take it and push it slightly in, so the stream will hit the upper parts of your tunnel. Find the spot where it feels different, and let it stay there. You will have the orgasm of your life.”
I took the nozzle with my right, put the nozzle up my crack and moved it down to my entrance. She kissed my eyes, enforcing me to close them, her left under my head, her right teasing my nipples. At first I pushed it in and out nervously, too tense to feel anything. After a while I began to relax and listen to my body. I began moving the nozzle into myself, letting it stay in the same position for some time, exploring my feeling, before inserting it a little deeper. I found the place all right. She must have felt I found it, because she let free my nipples and passed her attention to my clit, her other hand sneaking under me, teasing my other hole.
All of a sudden I lost control. All my muscles were fully tense, shaking, my hand pressing the nozzle onto that special spot. My vaginal sphincter contracted, holding the nozzle in one place, sending huge orgasmic waves one after the other, engulfing me, carrying me with them. I heard myself screaming.
When it was all over she made me stand up, rubbed me with a towel and took me to bed. I fell like a rag doll, not awake, not sleeping.
I heard her entering the bath, and drifted into sleep. After a while I awoke to her screams. I smiled to myself and drifted back to sleep.
Early in the morning we awoke, embracing each other. Needless to speak, we both knew it’s the beginning of a new chapter in our lives.