The summer of my 16th year I had the opportunity of helping my grandfather on his farm. It was a unique opportunity for a city boy like me to learn about dairy farming; including milking cows, hauling hay, mending fences, etc. I lived in my grandparents home for the summer; where also living was my aunt, who was just one year older than I – just seventeen.
Approximately two weeks into my summer experience I found myself unable to do the number two in the bathroom (bowel movement). After several days of not being able to go, I was most miserable with cramps and the starting of an upset stomach. Being a proud young man, I did not feel comfortable sharing my problem with my grandmother or grandfather, so I just continued to suffer. After about the 4th day, I was more than I could stand anymore. Grandpa and Grandma had gone into town (150 miles away) and my aunt and I were home alone.
I finally mustered up enough courage to ask her if they had anything for relief of constipation. She said, “No, nothing but prune juice or an enema.” I finally got the courage to tell her that I was seriously constipated; not having gone to the bathroom for 4 days. We both knew that prune juice would not be the solution. So, off she went into grandma’s bathroom to get the enema bag, hose and nozzle. I had to confess to her at that time that I had never experienced an enema and didn’t know the first things about it. To which my aunt said, “Well, I know all about them and will help you do it.”
I watched as she filled the bag with warm, soapy water until it was bulging. She then suggested that we go out to the barn where we would be sure and have privacy and lots of room to perform the ordeal. I reluctantly followed her down the 100 yard path to the barn. When we arrived, she informed me that it would be best if I completely removed my Levi’s and shorts. I was very shy and tried to think of any other way. She became very short with me as I continued to just talk and not remove. Finally, I could see that the only way I was going to get relief was to comply – so off came the Levi’s and under shorts. I remember thinking how thankful I was that my tee shirt was long enough to cover my crack and the tender vitals in the front.
My aunt laid a feed sack on a bale of hay and instructed me to straddle the hay bale with my legs and lay down on my tummy on the bale of hay. This left me in a very exposed position with my bare bottom in full view. My aunt carefully used Vaseline on the nozzle and using her finger stuck some up my waiting hole. As she touched me I remember really digging into that bale of hay and thinking about how embarrassed I was to be in this position. Then in went the nozzle and I heard a click and the water started to flow. I remember how uncomfortable it was, but my aunt insisted that I needed to take the whole bag if it was going to be successful. She would stop the flow periodically to allow me to relax. The ordeal seemed to go on forever.
But, alas – even with the uncomfortable feeling in my tummy with all the water and waste from not being able to use the bathroom, I became aware that my manhood stick was growing stiff and pushing against the bale of hay. As this began to happen I tried everything in my power to stop its growth especially by thinking of other things. But it was to no avail – it got very hard and stiff and I to had reach my hand down there to adjust it so that was more comfortable against the bale of hay. I was very concerned about how I was going to hide this from my aunt.
Toward the end of the enema; with the bag almost empty I started to complain that I was not going to be able to take it all. She continued to insist that it had to be and then did a very brazen thing – she placed her hand between the bale of hay and my tummy and began to massage my tummy. She claimed this would make it so that I could take the whole bag. In the process of this massaging operation, she touched my hard manhood. The condition really seemed to surprise her and she quickly removed her hand.
Now come the embarrassing time for me. The nozzle was removed and I was instructed to stand and walk over to the trench where the cows relieved themselves, straddle it and squat down and let it go. This I did, I remember how good it felt to have all that stuff literally blow out of my body – it seemed to go on forever. During this whole evolution, I had just about forgotten about my manhood stiffness, but I began to notice my aunt’s eyes focusing on my crotch which was totally exposed in my squatting position and when I stood my shirt stood out like a big tent. Boy, was I embarrassed, but there I was with an erection as big as all out doors.
My aunt then ordered me to report to the same position on the bale of hay where she carefully washed my bottom with cold water with a rag and bucket that were near by. I have to say that this evolution excited my manhood even more than it was and I had this funny feeling that it was going to erupt. But just as this feeling started, my aunt ordered me to stand as we were through.
As I stood up, put my hands in the font to cover my front. Then she said, with a red blush on her face, “I’ve never seen one of those before. Please show my yours and let me touch it.” If it wasn’t stiff then (which it was), it got even stiffer. She sat on the bale of hay with my standing in front and the exploring began. I have to admit it felt good as she played with the family jewels and the stiff rod; asking me questions as she fondled it. Needless to say, it didn’t take long until the white fluid started squirting out; getting all over her face and shirt. What a way for two youngsters to learn. I have to admit that this was the first time for me to knowingly ejaculate – I had woken with wet dreams, but this was the first time with the neat feeling.
Well, that day in the barn ended my constipation, but opened an exciting door that lasted all summer. We early on decided that connecting plumbing was not for us, but we became experts in each other’s vital parts; seeing and experiencing how they worked and the pleasures that they had in store. Of course, all that exploring and the specifics of how we did it another story.
OH, yes – I had many more enemas from her and she had some from me. We found enemas were stimulating and added to our exploration and fun.