Jenny finished faking her orgasm, and watched Matt’s retreating back as he went into the bathroom. She put her nightie back on - what a waste of money that had been - she might just as well have worn an old sack for all the effect it had produced in her husband.
Our marriage is heading for the rocks, she thought, and I really don’t know why. Matt had been losing enthusiasm for months, and it was beginning to look as though their first anniversary might coincide with their divorce. She tried again to work out the cause. It could hardly be another woman - none of the signs were there, it surely wasn’t that she restricted him in sexual matters - Matt was the original un-adventurous male, and it was she who had to make the running. Perhaps there was some organic cause? No - he had just taken out a large insurance policy to cover the mortgage if he died, and the physical had been very thorough.
Matt returned, rolled into bed, and lay with his back to Jenny. She wondered if something was upsetting him. He had switched channels that evening during a program which described the awful childhood experiences of some poor woman - it had just begun to describe how she had been tortured by receiving frequent and painful enemas when Matt had emitted an awful groan and reached for the remote. Maybe there was something in the program which brought back bad memories. She nestled into his back.
“Matt?”
“Hmmph?”
“Matt, that was an awful program on TV tonight.”
“Yes.”
“You seemed very upset. Did something like that happen to you?”
He gave a sigh.
“No. I can truthfully say that I have never had a painful enema in my life.”
“Oh. But you did get enemas?”
“Sure I did. Mom was real keen.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Tell you what? I just got a lot of enemas. That’s about all of it.”
Jenny’s curiosity was aroused. Matt was curiously reticent. How to get him talking?
“Well, for instance, what was the first time you got one?”
He was silent for a while, then sighed again.
“I will never forget that occasion. I was six, and my sister was five. It was our neighbor, Mrs. Armstrong who put mom up to it. They took me up to the bathroom and undressed me, then Mrs. Armstrong put a towel on her knee, and laid me on it.”
“You mean, like bent over?”
“No. On my back. Then she held my legs up in the air and pulled them apart. I saw the top of mom’s head as she looked at my ass, then she held a rubber bulb with a pipe sticking out of it. She had an expression of total concentration, and then I saw the bulb disappear, and the next second I felt the tube go up my little asshole.”
“Did it hurt?”
“No. She was very gentle and sort of worked it in slowly. Then I felt some warm liquid go in. Mrs. Armstrong let my legs down, and I ran to the toilet and did a huge poo. They both told me that I was a real good boy, and that was that.”
“You said that you got a lot of enemas.”
“I sure did. That was only the start - I think mom quite liked giving Sis and me the occasional enema, but it was Mrs. Armstrong who was really keen, and mom didn’t seem to mind if Sis and me were included.”
“Included? Included in what?”
“Mrs. Armstrong had two little girls about the same age as us, and we all used to play together in the yard between the houses. She would come to the kitchen door, and call us all in to get an enema. It was OK if you were a girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“She always did it in the living room. The girls just took their knickers off, and laid on their backs while she lifted their legs and gave them a couple of injections of soapy water. Their dresses mostly covered them, but I wore shorts, and I had to take them and my underpants right off. Being little girls, they just stood and had a good look at my little prick and balls while my legs were held up. Afterwards, they used to tease me a lot.”
“How come? They had been through the same thing.”
There was a long silence.
“Well, you know what little boys are like - I used to get an infantile erection most times and that was something they could really laugh at - I suppose they saw how embarrassed it made me when it happened. I was really pleased when the Armstrongs moved away after a couple of years.”
“So the enemas stopped, did they?”
“No way, but at least it wasn’t so embarrassing with only my sister there. After a while mom bought a bag instead of the bulb and that was much better.”
“Better? How better?”
“Well, Sis and me just had to kneel down, you know, with our backsides sticking up in the air, so I could keep my little prick out of sight. Anyway, it meant that I just got stuck once with the tip - it had begun to take four or five bulbs before she reckoned that I had taken sufficient, and Sis just stood watching as the pipe went in and out.”
“Did you mind her giving you enemas?”
“At first, I didn’t think about it - it was just something that happened. I was much more concerned about a girl looking at my willy than what was going on at the other end.”
“And how long did you keep on getting them?”
Jennifer noticed that Matt didn’t give a direct answer. He just said:
“Well, they just sort of petered out. I don’t really know exactly when she stopped.”
The following day, Jenny thought about their conversation. Matt had answered her questions, but the main thing was that he seemed to have some sort of hang-up. Was it the fact that little girls had made fun of him when he got an erection? Or was he not being quite frank about his own feelings?
They went to bed that night, and Jenny decided to broach the subject again. She was certain that Matt would object to being quizzed further, so how could she continue? Yes - that was it - she would tell him about her own experiences.
They were lying side by side, when Jenny said:
“You know, Matt, talking about your childhood enemas last night has reminded me of my own.”
He stirred, and looked at her.
“I didn’t know you had enemas when you were a kid.”
“The subject never came up before. My little brother and sister and me used to get an enema every couple of weeks.”
There was a catch in his voice, and an attempt to appear disinterested. Jenny continued:
“She used to go into the bathroom, and then we would be called in, one by one, to get our bowels flushed.”
“Oh, so you got it on your own, then.”
Jenny chuckled.
“I think I must have been a bit like the little girls you described. I always went up before it was time, so that I could watch my brother being finished off. He always had a hard on as well - I think it must happen to all little boys.”
There was an incredulous inquiry.
“Didn’t he mind? I mean, did he try to hide it or something?”
“Not at all. I think he was quite proud of it. He certainly felt that boys were far superior to girls because girls had no willy. He was always showing it off to the neighborhood girls.”
She became conscious that Matt’s hand had slid downwards and was now moving gently back and forth. The subject seemed to be turning him on. Well, there was plenty more to tell. She gently slid her hand under his, feeling the sort of erection that hadn’t been much in evidence of late. He tensed in surprise, then relaxed as she began to slowly stroke him. He asked:
“Did you mind her giving you enemas so often?”
“No. In fact, I used to enjoy them, and mom seemed to realize that. She got one of those long tubes - I think they are called colon tubes - and saved it especially for me, because I was the oldest.”
She felt his prick twitch at the mention of the colon tube. He was obviously interested and turned on.
“I remember when mom first produced it, and held it in her hand, it was sort of drooping but wobbling up and down, and I felt it was looking at me through the little hole in the end. I got all wet just seeing it.”
“You got WHAT?”
“All wet. I knew exactly where it was going, and it gave me a really funny feeling between my legs. She held it out for me to feel how soft it was and explained that it would give me a better cleanout and it wouldn’t hurt at all.”
Her hand encountered a wetness on the end of Matt’s prick. He was close. She transferred her attention to his stomach and pubic hair - this was not going to finish yet. She continued:
“That was the first time she shut the bathroom door. I watched her finish my brother off, and after he had his shit she sort of ushered him out and locked the door. That’s when she showed me the tube and told me that I was a big girl now and should have some privacy. Well, I took my clothes off and knelt down, and she told me how important it was to ensure good lubrication. She smeared grease all over the tube, then all over my asshole, and then…”
“Then what, for god’s sake?”
“…then, for the first time, she pushed her finger right up my ass and worked the grease into me.”
Matt groaned. He was in a state of high excitement, and said:
“Mom used to do that to me. How did it feel to you?”
Aha, though Jenny, now we’re getting at the truth. She answered:
“Well, at first I was sort of surprised, then I got a sort of deep down thrill, and then….”
“Yes?” “Then I came for the first time. I didn’t realize what it was, just this incredibly good feeling spreading out, making me feel all sort of wobbly. I don’t know whether mom realized, because she just slid the tube in and started the water. She kept feeding more and more, until I had about two feet of it inside me. When the water stopped, she pulled it out real slow, and I came again.”
There was a silence, then Matt croaked:
“When did she stop giving you enemas?”
Jenny transferred her hand back to his prick, and felt surprise. Surely it had never been this large before? Time for one last story.
“Well, not until I went to college. I remember the last time. I think I went in the opposite direction to you - I knelt down when I was little and graduated to taking enemas on my back. Mom had prepared a sort of nest of fluffy towels, and I lay on my back and held my legs high and wide so that she could get at my asshole with her finger.”
Matt’s prick twitched and his breathing got faster. She could feel his heart pounding. She rubbed a little faster, and continued the story.
“I watched as the tube disappeared into me, and I enjoyed that marvelous thrill as it stimulated my insides. Then the bag slowly went down - I had graduated to taking two quarts by then. I rubbed my stomach to spread the water as I got fuller and fuller, and I could feel my juices dripping out of me, then the tube came out, inch by inch……”
The rest was lost as Matt bucked and yelled in the throes of a huge orgasm. The stuff went everywhere, and just kept spurting - there seemed to be gallons of it. Jenny kept rubbing until Matt convulsed as his sensitivity increased to the point where a touch became unbearable.
Jenny waited until Matt’s breathing and heart rate seemed to be back to normal, and then asked:
“How about telling me more about your experiences?”
But there was no reply from the sweaty, sleeping body beside her. She reached down to her own slit with a mental sigh.
The next day Jenny went shopping. It took quite a while, but she eventually found a huge four quart latex bag. For the colon tube she had to find a medical supplier, but the assistant seemed well aware that it was not only doctors and nurses who patronized the shop. Jenny bought the mother of colon tubes and, after wincing at the price, followed the suggestion of the salesgirl and bought a inflatable nozzle catheter. She had never heard of that item before, but as she watched a demonstration of how it was inflated she felt a stirring in her own loins - if Matt didn’t like it, it would not go unused! To her extreme amusement, the salesgirl gift wrapped both items, confirming a growing suspicion about the normal clientele of the store, and added an illustrated catalogue of the items stocked.
Matt was really turned on when they went to bed, but Jenny insisted that he should finish his story.
“OK, Matt, let’s just hear about how your enema sessions just petered out.”
His limp penis stirred in her grasp. He began the story.
“Well, what happened was that mom did gradually stop giving enemas to Sis and me. I felt glad at first, but then I realized that I missed them. Partly the feeling of lightness and well being that I got afterwards, but….”
His voice trailed off, and Jenny felt the erection begin to subside. She gave an encouraging squeeze.
“You mean, but mainly you missed the fact that they turned you on and felt sexier than anything else in the world.”
She felt the twitch that heralded the resurgence of erection. “Well, yes. She stopped when I was twelve. It was when I was fourteen that I heard two boys talking about enemas that their kid brothers were still getting, and the feeling just sort of hit me. I recalled what it had felt like, and I must have re-run mentally every enema I had received in my whole life. I had to almost run to the toilets and jerk off like crazy before I came in my pants. Then I could hardly think about anything else except getting an enema. I reckoned that I must be gay, but eventually I decided that didn’t matter as long as I could get another enema.”
“So, what did you do?” “I went to mom and told her that I hadn’t been able to go for ages. She wanted me to take a laxative, but I said that it was just too far gone for that, and that I would just have to take an enema. From her attitude and the expression on her face, I could tell that she wanted to give me one as well. It was funny really…”
Jenny felt a sense of frustration. Matt kept drying up, and this time she didn’t know what prompt to use.
“Go on, Matt, tell me what was funny.”
“Well, for years and years I had hidden my erect prick from mom, but this time I just stripped off and stood there with it pointing straight up. I wanted her to see it. Do you reckon that I’m and exhibitionist? I mean, it’s real perverted to show off in front of your mom like that, isn’t it. It’s an Oedipus complex.”
Jenny sighed, out loud this time. She spoke slowly and clearly.
“Matt, I reckon that Freud had more hang-ups than his patients. Perversion is a matter of degree, not substance. For instance, most everybody likes the feel of fur, but a fetishist is impotent without it. It’s natural to love your mom, but you’ve got problems if she’s the only one you want to sleep with. Anyway, if you were a teenage baboon, you’d be running about showing the world your bright red backside. Sure, teenagers are exhibitionists, but not like the flasher brigade.”
She felt her husband relax, and kneaded his penis back to erection.
“Now, Matt, let’s have the rest. I love you and nothing you say can change that.”
“Well, as I said, I stood there flaunting my prick. Perhaps it was just that I was trying to tell her why I wanted the enema without using words. She just looked at it, and went on filling the bag. Maybe she did get the message, because that was the first time she ever stuck her finger up my ass - that blew my mind.”
“Did you cum in front of her?”
“No, never, but sometimes it was a close thing. As time went on..”
“Huh? This happened more than once?”
Some shame returned to his voice. Jenny pushed underneath the sheet and took the end of his prick in her mouth, giving another wordless message. Steadiness returned as he continued.
“Yes. It kept going until I got my first real girlfriend and then I sort of lost interest. About once a month, when my sister was out of the way, mom gave me a big enema. By the end of it, I could take well over two quarts.”
Jenny detached her mouth, and said:
“Describe one of the sessions. Tell me the whole lot.”
She resumed, hearing his slightly muffled voice.
“I used to jack off beforehand - sometimes two or three times - just to lower my sensitivity. But I still got an erection every time. Mom just used to get hold of the tube and gesture me to kneel down. Then she fingered me - sometimes it was good, other times she hit the exact spot and it was great.”
Jenny gave an encouraging mumble, and Matt continued.
“Then the tube went in… and in… and in. She started the water, and kept stopping it until the pressure sort of subsided. By the time the tube came out again, I could hardly wait until she left the room before jacking off while the….”
Jenny felt the pulsing begin, and her mouth filled up with Matt’s sperm. She swallowed, then surfaced from beneath the sheet. They lay for a while, then she announced:
“I’m glad you told me that. Now come with me.”
She led him to the bathroom and indicated the bulging bag and the colon tube. It had been her intention to save the inflatable nozzle until later, but she couldn’t resist inserting it and inflating the bulb. Matt groaned loudly with pleasure:
“Have you got another one? You must try this.”
“No. They’re expensive.”
“I don’t care what they cost. We just have to get another one….”
Jenny smiled. Everything was going to be all right.