By this point nearly everyone has taken the time to read my wife, Amber’s lifetime of stories of enjoying enemas. Admittedly, I never received them as a child and, as difficult as it is to believe, was in my early forties before being introduced them. But the reader must appreciate that there are two sides to every story. This is my version of the occasion when I lost my enema virginity.
It is true that just before my forty-second birthday I encountered a problem, namely that I was passing some blood whenever I had a BM. For a male who doesn’t like to go to doctors, this was a traumatic experience because I realized that I 1) had to do something about it, 2) in the process I’d have to explain the circumstances to others, and 3) there without a doubt would be a rectal exam where the likes of all sorts of instruments would be introduced into my anal opening.
The first problem, however, was telling my wife Amber. Understand that while not an alarmist, she did immediately feel the need to call and consult with her friend Gina, who is a nurse at the local hospital. Gina took all of this in her typical clinical way and has the ability to discuss things, especially very personal things, in the most abstract and impersonal terms. Nevertheless, she was good enough to arrange an appointment for me with a local gastroenterologist she knows. Knowing how nervous I was with the problem, she also made sure that I wouldn’t have to wait the normal several weeks for an appointment.
Gina gave Amber the phone number and I called almost immediately. The nurse gave me an appointment for the following Monday morning and then it was the time when I heard those terrifying words, “The doctor is going to want you to prep before coming in. You’ll need to take a Fleet enema the night before and another in the morning just before coming to the appointment.” At just the sound of this I swallowed hard. My mouth was now dry, as dry as desert sandstorm from fear.
I let several days go by. While I was still passing some blood, I was also trying to ignore the need to go buy those Fleets. Finally it was Sunday night and feeling like a schoolboy who had forgotten to do his homework, I told Amber of my problem and that I hadn’t gotten the enemas like I was told to do. At first she was a little angry with me. Furthermore, she made it quite clear that she wasn’t going out to get the Fleets, but was willing, of course, to help me just the same. At first I wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but it soon became evident that I was to be introduced to her own style of enemas.
Now you have to understand, ever since we got married, Amber would from time-to-time work the topic of enemas into our intimate conversations. I was always reluctant to even discuss the issue. To me it never sounded very appealing nor enticing because, after all, you take one of these when you need help making a BM. I knew Amber took them with some frequency, but especially because she can get constipated during some months just before her period arrives. But what I didn’t understand was that she also seemed to really enjoy them. They seemed to make her even, if I can say it, happy.
But in getting back to my story, Amber was very much in charge of things and told me to go upstairs and get undressed. As I was doing this, she went about finding the equipment. I saw her search under the sink and come out with a white two quart hot water bottle with a hose and a black nozzle at the end. While I was exceedingly nervous, I do remember saying, “What are you going to do with that?” To which she responded, “This is for your enema, silly,”
I watched as she filled the bag with warm water and added a packet of Castile enema soap that she’d gotten from Gina. “My God that’s an awful lot!” I exclaimed as I looked at the bulging bag. “Do I have to take it all?”
As she screwed in the hose she turned to me and said, “Of course! You’re a big boy. Now just relax, and I promise you that it won’t be that bad. Really. Now go into the bedroom and lie on your left side pulling your right knee nearly to your chest.”
I didn’t know what to think because those sounded like strange instructions. However, not to delay this any more, I did just as I was told. After spreading a couple of towels on the bed, she hung the bag from one of the bedposts. We have one of those early American beds with the six foot high posts at each corner. I have to admit that when we bought it, I wondered what good they were other than for aesthetics. Now I think it’s evident that those colonists, being the practical folk they were, may have had something specific in mind.
“It’ll be OK,” she whispered in my ear. I swallowed hard as my wife raised my robe exposing my bum. “This is going to feel a little cold,” she said as she put some K-Y into my backside and then some more on the nozzle. “Now just relax and take a deep breath,” Amber instructed. I could feel my mouth again get very dry. Wow, was I nervous. Again I did as she said and she slipped the nozzle in. “That’s not so bad now, is it?” she asked to which I only replied with a grunt. Only now do I admit that it really wasn’t.
“Continue with the deep breaths. That will help you take this a bit easier,” she continued to instruct. I must have taken the first half breath when I heard a little click and an instant later felt the strangest sensation of warmth entering me.
As I started to fill, the enema gurgled in my insides and I began to feel cramps. “Uhh! Oh, that hurts,” I think I said.
Amber stopped the flow and rubbed my stomach. I started to feel a bit better but also realized that I had grown one huge, very hard erection, a fact that Amber had also observed as she was now wearing the tiniest of smiles. She opened the clamp again, but pinched the hose a little and the rest of the enema flowed into me, perhaps a bit slower, but without further problem.
A minute or two later I started to feel like I had to make the most massive BM of my entire life, but Amber kept me lying on the bed a few more minutes. When she finally said “OK,” I didn’t waste any time heading to the bathroom to expel. There, I was absolutely amazed at how much came out of me, but also how good I began to feel when I was finally done.
When I came out of the bathroom, I said with a bit of bravado, “Gee, that wasn’t so bad after all! That’s all there is to it, huh?” Amber gave me a little frown and told me to remember that I was to get another one of these in the morning.
“Hey, no problem,” I thought to myself.
The alarm went off pretty early. We both got out of bed and Amber went to retrieve the enema bag to prepare for my next session. I now knew the routine and it went much faster. Amber lubed me, lubed the nozzle, and inserted it in almost one continuous motion. About half way through this second enema she automatically stopped the flow and massaged my stomach. Like the previous evening, I also had a terrific erection and she massaged that too, just after restarting the flow.
It seems that in no time at all I had the full two quarts of warm soapy enema inside of me. I held it for a few minutes, got up and went into the bathroom, expelled it, showered and shave, got dressed and departed for my appointment. On the way out the door Amber gave me a kiss, saying, “Good luck. You sure have been a good sport about this.” I wasn’t ready to tell her just yet that I enjoyed getting an enema from my sexy wife. This morning I didn’t dare smile until I had backed out of the driveway.
About eleven o’clock I came home from my appointment. Amber was waiting for me and asked how things went. I smiled and told her, “I’m fine. It’s just a case of internal hemorrhoids. I should add some more fiber to my diet and avoid getting constipated.” At this point she smiled and said with a cute little giggle, “I think I can help you on that last note.” I was laughing at this point too, and said, “By the way the doctor complemented me on the prep. I didn’t dare tell him that you are the one who did it, but I thought about it. Even more, I thought about you!”
That’s when I think I realized that the timing was right to tell her that I had really enjoyed the enemas, so I then added, “And when might I be able to return the favor and give you a nice enema?” Amber didn’t waste any time. She just smiled at me, gave me a little kiss on the cheek, took me by the hand and led me to the steps. I’ve got to say that the anticipation came over me immediately at this point and I got this immense bulge in my pants as we went upstairs.
Once in our bedroom, I turned and gave Amber a passionate kiss and began to undress her. But even though she was quite responsive to my tender advances, she whispered in my ear, “We’ve got to save the lovemaking for a few minutes. I’m really very much looking forward to you first giving me that enema that you promised me.”
She finished taking off her blouse and jeans, but then took me by the hand, saying, “I know you saw how I prepared those enemas for you, but there are a few other things I’ve got to show you.” She was in her instructional mode once more. I looked at her with a quizzical expression and said, “Like what?”
“First,” she explained, “there’s the question of ‘how much’ and then whether we want to have it ‘plain or with soap.’ I gave you a pair of soapy two quart ones because you needed to be really cleaned out. Two quarts is a nice amount because they’re effective, but that’s also the capacity of the bag. Soap, while it can be an irritant, also makes for better cleansing. The soap Gina gave me, however, is very gentle and shouldn’t be a problem.”
“For this one you’re about to give me, let’s use some of the soap,” Amber explained. Of course at this point I’m now thinking to myself, “This really is not rocket science,” and said to her, “OK, whatever you wish.”
The white bag she’d used for me earlier was still hanging upside down on the bathtub faucets to drain. After retrieving it, she began to run the water at the sink and after a minute took my hand and placed it under the stream saying, “This feels like just the right temperature,” and after getting my concurrence, placed the bag under the flow to fill. Like she’d done for me, Amber took out a packet of enema soap and added it’s contents after the bag had about half filled.
After returning the bag under the faucet for it to receive the rest of the water, she screwed in the hose. Then turning to me, she said, “It’s always important to let the air out first, otherwise you’ll cramp,” Amber explained as I held the bag and she let a little water through the hose.
“I think we’re about ready,” Amber said as she embraced me and gave me another tender little kiss, “I’m really looking forward to this so much more than you could ever imagine!”
“So am I!” I exclaimed with enthusiasm, but now also feeling my erection returning at its full strength.
Amber stepped out of her panties and laid down on her left side as I found the tube of K-Y and put a liberal amount on my finger. I smeared some on the nozzle and then turned to my wife’s lovely bottom where I spread her tender cheeks and applied the lubricant, being sure to work my fingers deep into her anal opening.
“Ohhh,” she said being caught initially by surprise. This was followed by “Mmmm,” and she murmured, “I like that a whole lot.” I continued for a moment more, removed my finger and gently inserted the nozzle. “Ohhh, I do like that, too. It feels so nice and I like that because I also know what’s going to happen next.” she cooed. I clicked open the clamp and the warm soapy liquid started to fill her. “This is what I think I like best,” she said taking some deep breaths. “It’s so warm and soothing. It so totally relaxes me!”
I began to massage her back which made her breathe all the deeper. As she sighed, I looked at her and could not believe that within the past twenty-four hours I had not only received my first enema, but was now giving my first, as well.
“Slow it down a bit, please Ray, I think I’m starting to feel a little crampy.” Recalling that the same had happened to me, I closed the clamp and rubbed her tummy for a moment.
When Amber smiled at me with one of her sexiest expressions, I moved my hand down to her clit and finding it wonderfully damp, began to manipulate it with my fingers. “Mmmm,” she cooed some more, “I’m OK, go ahead and give me some more enema, but whatever you do, don’t stop what you’re doing.” I complied with her wish, but also inserted a clean finger deep inside her vagina while massaging her clit with the thumb of the same hand. “Ohhh, Oh Oh,” said Amber as her body now shuttered with an orgasm.
She finished taking the rest of the enema and I removed the nozzle. I caressed her breasts and tenderly kissed her neck for the several minutes that she retained it. “Ray, let me go get rid of this, there is something else we have to do.” She was several minutes in the bathroom expelling and when she came out, said, “That was so wonderful!”
“You said something else?” I asked, “Like what?”
At this point she was still dressed in only her bra. But now she had gone over to the sink and was kneeling down looking for something else in the vanity when she explained, “Before today, the only other person to ever give me an enema was my mother and that was nearly 30 years ago. I now want you to give me another one, but I want to have one like she used to give.”
When she stood up she was holding a small plaid zippered pouch which I immediately identified as the one that held her douche bag. “But the enema bag is over there draining by the tub. Aren’t we going to use that again?” I asked. “We could,” she replied as she unzipped the pouch and pulled out the natural latex bag and hose, “But this is what I’ve used ever since college and I really do like to use it best.”
“One last thing,” she added, “When I gave you your enemas and the one you just gave me, we laid on our sides on the bed. For this one you will need to sit on the edge of the tub like she used to and have me lie across your lap.” As I heard the request I started to conjure up visions of how this would work and decided that since I am 6’1” tall and Amber is only a diminutive 5’3’ that it could work very easily. Moreover, it sounded like it had the potential to be not only interesting, but exciting as well.
She turned on the water, attached the hose to the bottom of her bag, snapped shut the clamp, replaced the douche nozzle with the enema one, and held the bag under the running faucet to fill. “Since the one I just had contained soap, this one will be plain. Kind of like a rinse, you know?” Handing me the bag, she added, “Now hang this from the hook on the back of the door and sit down on the edge of the tub.” Fascinated, I did as she requested.
She handed me the tube of K-Y, instructing me, “Once I’m over your lap, put some more of this in my bum and some on the nozzle like you did before.” She stood on one side of me and then proceeded to lie down across my lap. The glorious view of her bottom got me horny all over again as I felt my raging erection begin to make my loins ache.
I generously applied the K-Y and inserted the nozzle. Amber started with the deep breaths and, as if on cue, I clicked open the clamp that started her second enema flowing. “Wow, this really is like mom used to give. I still remember them like it was yesterday,” she explained. “Enemas were her all- time favorite remedy. When I was smaller, I was scared to death of them, but then as I got somewhat older I actually started to like them because they made me feel nice and clean.”
As the bag continued to deliver its contents into her wanting insides, I again availed myself of the opportunity to caress my wife’s glistening pussy. At this point, Amber, always with some of her perverse sense of humor added with a little giggle, “Of course, mom never did THAT!” This was followed by her sounds of pleasure, “Mmmm, Oh!”
After the bag had completely emptied and I shut the clamp, she had me remove the nozzle, but wanted me to continue to hold her on my lap and to have my hand hold her beautiful little buttocks together. After a few minutes, she then told me, “OK, that’s fine. You can let me get up and expel now.”
I teased her, “I think you should hold it for another few minutes just to make sure that the enema has had its chance to do its work.” Amber replied, “Do you know that my mom used to tell me the same thing! Because if I didn’t want to hold it long enough, she’d tell me that she’d have to give me another one.” After a few more minutes I finally let her up.
Amber made a mad dash into the bathroom and I could hear her as she quickly expelled. When she finished and finally came out she said, “Well, we’ve both been really totally cleaned out today. I’ve never had two two-quart enemas on the same day, but do I feel truly wonderful. Of course, that’s party because I’ve now been cleaned out; partly because I now have you as the ultimate enamate of my dreams!”
“Enemate?” I asked. “What’s that?”
Amber smiled and said, “They’re people who enjoy giving enemas to one another. Some consider enemas more loving and intimate than sex.” Even after fifteen years of marriage I still enjoy making love to Amber and silently wondered if I doubted her last statement or not.
Amber came over, put her arms around me, gave me a long, passionate kiss on the lips, slid her hand down to my crotch and whispered to me, “Now let’s see what we might be able to do about this other problem of yours!” she said unable to withhold a teasing little giggle. I maneuvered my hands around to her back, managed to unhook her bra, and said, “Sure, any chance that you have anything specific in mind?”
She just giggled some more. What an afternoon that was.