Nurse's Enema

You’ve checked in to a small private hospital to take care of some minor surgery. You’ve been putting it off for months, partly because you knew there would be some discomfort involved, but mostly because you just dreaded the indignities you envisioned. You’re tempted to bolt, but decide it has to be done, and since you’re already here, you’ll just grit your teeth and endure whatever is to come. As you’re unpacking your overnight bag, you spot your chart in the end of the bed.

Hmmm… you decide to sneak a look at what they’ve got in store for you. You read from the “ORDERS” page… 1. Regular Diet. (OK, you can live with that) 2. NPO after 9PM night before surgery. (Not too bad, you’ll get dinner at least.) 3. Valium, 10 mg. IM as needed for sleep (Valium doesn’t sound bad, but that “IM” sounds suspiciously like it might involve a needle, so you decide it won’t be necessary.) OK, so far, so good. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

You hear a noise outside your door, so you quickly put the chart down and go back to unpacking. The door opens and in walks your private duty nurse (you must remember to thank your Doc for suggesting that.) She looks you in the eye and smiles… That guilty look has given you away. Hmmm… not bad, you think… she has short dark hair and warm, sparkling eyes, and her snug fitting starched white uniform only barely conceals her assets. She suggests you get changed into your hospital gown… so she can “prep” you. Hmmm… what’s “prep”? You remember seeing that on the chart but hadn’t yet had a chance to read what it might involve. She holds the gown out for you to slip into. You protest, insisting that you’d be more comfortable in your own pajamas. She gently insists that the gown is a hospital requirement. You mutter something about how undignified they are, but finally realize she isn’t going to give in, so you agree. She says she’ll be back in about 10 minutes to “prep” you.

As soon as she leaves, you decide to look at the chart again. Somehow that word, “prep” has a very unsettling sound to it. You quickly scan down the page… here it is: SURGICAL PREP: 1. Shave surgical site. OH SHIT!!! You just knew you’d live to regret moving that piano for the sweet young thing down the hall! You blush DEEPLY at the thought of your pretty nurse SHAVING a part of you that you’d really prefer to keep as it is! NO WAY!! What if she SLIPS?!?!?! As your eyes quickly scan the page, the word you’d feared most LEAPS off the page: Soapsuds ENEMA! Oh NO! NO WAY!!! The last time you had one of those, it was at the hands of an overzealous corpsman when you were in the service and you remember it being a most unpleasant experience! You close the chart and think seriously about packing your clothes and getting the hell out of there when the door opens again and your nurse comes back in. “Good, you’ve changed,” she says brightly. “Now hop into bed.”

Her soft smile reassures you slightly, but your thoughts keep drifting back to two words: SHAVE and ENEMA. She must notice your discomfort. She takes your hand and squeezes it, smiling gently. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything hurt you.” You realize that more of what you’re feeling is fear than embarrassment, but that this lady means what she says. It will be OK. Her words might lie, but her eyes wouldn’t. You try to relax and trust her. She pats your hand again, then turns to a covered tray. She turns back toward you and reaches for your arm. You tense briefly then relax when you realize she just wants to take your blood pressure. WHEW! That you can handle! She tells you to be still for a minute while she takes it and your pulse. You gladly comply. You watch her even breathing strain the front of her uniform as she sits on the side of your bed. You feel a stirring in your loins that you’d do just about anything to prevent! The LAST thing you want is to have an erection when she pulls back the covers to begin your prep. (Quick! Think about screwing Bella Abzug! There. That’s better.)

She makes her notes on your chart, then picks up a thermometer and shakes it down briskly. You think you’ll have at least a few minutes’ reprieve while the thermometer’s in your mouth, but when she tell you to turn over on your side, you know something’s going on! You watch as she pulls on gloves and lubricates the thermometer with KY (She CAN’T want to take it THAT WAY, can she???) When she gently places her hand on your hip, you know she’s serious about it! “Why not by mouth?” you protest! She smiles that soft smile again and you know you’re not getting out of it, so you turn over, grudgingly. You just know every sq. inch of you is blushing! With one hand resting lightly on your hip, she pulls back your gown and deftly inserts the lubricated thermometer. You tense as it probes for your anus, but relax as it smoothly slides in. It feels cold, but not at all unpleasant, as you’d expected. In fact, you’re surprised to feel that stirring again in your cock. Since you’re over on your side where you know she can’t see it, you just enjoy the sensation. She rubs your hip and backside gently while you wait.

Mmmm… that feels nice. You still aren’t sure why she took your temperature rectally, but you’re not about to complain. You didn’t realize that she was watching your reaction to it very closely. Being private duty has it’s fringe benefits. She winks and smiles as she leaves promising to be back in a few minutes. She’s already decided to make this a pleasant experience for you. You just don’t know it yet.

When she comes back, she’s carrying a basin of warm water and several fluffy white towels. Uh, oh… you know what’s next. She sees that look of anxiety on your face and tells you to just relax. She’s shaved hundreds of men and never lost one yet. Fatality isn’t what worries you… surviving it with ALL parts intact IS! Your erection from the temperature-taking has shrunk, so you decide the only way to get through this is to close your eyes and pretend it’s a male nurse. If you THINK about who has her hands all over your genitals, you’re sunk! OK… you clasp your hands behind your head and close your eyes. You feel your gown being lifted to your chest, but then she places a hand on your abdomen. No way is that the hand of a male nurse! Try Bella again.

She feels the tension in your gut and strokes you softly. “Now just relax…” she coos softly. You know you’re in trouble… your cock has already figured out that’s not Bella’s voice either, and begins to stiffen in anticipation of her touch. You hear her lathering her hands and steel yourself for what’s coming, but the first touch of her hand to your groin brings a wave of embarrassment that makes you whimper. This comes as no surprise to her. She reassures you that it’s only natural for you to feel aroused, and that she’s not the shy type, so just relax and enjoy it. While it doesn’t make you feel a whole lot better, your options at this point are pretty limited, so you just lie back and accept it. She lathers your most private parts slowly and methodically. In a different setting, you’d be LOVING this!

With your eyes closed, you can’t see the way she’s enjoying this ritual too. She smiles softly as she massages the soap all over your manhood, kneading your balls between her fingers, cupping your scrotum, stroking your cock. While you’ve relaxed some, your mind keeps reminding you that this isn’t a sexual situation, so despite your cock’s insistence, you remain only half aroused. The massaging has stopped, so you know the shaving’s going to begin soon. You stay relaxed, knowing her competent hands have done this many times before, so as long as you stay still, you’re at no risk. You don’t move a muscle as she deftly whisks off all traces of hair. Ooh! That feels STRANGE! So naked… so vulnerable! “There, all done,” she says, rinsing her hands and soaking a washcloth in the warm water. Ringing the cloth out, she wipes the remaining soap off you, pats you dry then pulls your gown back down and the covers back up. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” You nod, sheepishly. She knows you enjoyed it.

She slides off the bed, picks up the basin and leaves the room. As she goes out the door, she tells you she’ll be back in a minute to give you your enema. “My ENEMA???” That’s where you draw the line! Your panicked brain tries desperately to think of a way out of it. As you’re contemplating grabbing your pants and fleeing, (you know you wouldn’t get far, she’s just down the hall) she returns, closing the door behind her. She sees the sheer terror in your eyes and her crisp professional look softens. She hangs the full-to-bursting bag on a hook near your bed, then sits down beside you and takes your hand. “Have you ever had an enema before?” she asks softly, holding your hand firmly in hers. She knows you have and it makes her angry that someone has turned what should be a pleasant treatment into an ordeal.

She knows that especially for a man, the sensation of warm water in the colon, pressing on the prostate, should be at worst, a neutral experience, and at best, one that he’ll always remember with a smile (and a hard-on.) If she can convince him to relax and trust her, this will be the best part of his stay here. You see the softness in her face, feel it in the warmth of her touch, and begin to trust her. After all, you were wrong about the temperature taking and the shaving… maybe this won’t be so bad either? Besides, what other choices do you have? She tells you to turn over on your stomach and raise your backside up so she can insert the nozzle. Your stomach has enough butterflies to start a garden, but you comply, first turning onto your stomach, then shinnying up to your knees, once again exposing your much too often bared backside.

You shiver slightly, half from nervousness, half in anticipation. She rests her bare left hand on your naked buttock, while she moves her gloved right hand to gently spread your cheeks. Before you can react, she smoothly inserts her well-lubricated index finger deeply into your rectum. You jump slightly… that was a little more than you’d expected, but still, it didn’t feel bad. In fact, the pressure feels surprisingly erotic. You also take note of the fact that it hasn’t felt quite the same way when your doctor’s done a rectal exam. NOT AT ALL that way, matter of fact. Hmmm… could it be the difference is who’s on the other end of the finger? At that moment, you realize how much she’s enjoying this! You remember the slight quiver you noticed in her voice and the flush you saw spreading across her face and neck as she told you to turn over.

The thought and the sensations bring your once-flagging cock to immediate attention. She notices immediately, but keeps her finger where it is. As she senses you relaxing and accommodating the intrusion, she moves her finger in small circles. The pressure inside is exquisite… so intense, it’s almost painful. Her left hand is still resting on your cheek. She uses it as a gauge to sense your tension. When she senses that it might be arousing you too quickly, she withdraws her finger, satisfied that you’re well lubricated inside. You moan slightly. She knows that sound well. She smiles to herself. The rest will be easy.

After allowing the cooled water in the tube to run into a pan, she lifts the nozzle to insert it. As the nozzle touches your anus, you gasp slightly, but she continues, smoothly inserting it deeply in you. Your cock is throbbing as the nozzle finds its goal. She tells you to turn onto your back and she’ll start the water. Although you’re slightly embarrassed by your erection, you’re really past the point of caring. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. You turn onto your back. As you settle in, wondering what it will feel like once the water starts flowing, you notice her eyes are riveted on the tent that your erect cock is making under your thin hospital gown. Your eyes meet and she grins nervously, then blushes. She’s not used to getting caught looking. You both realize where this is going.

She opens the clamp holding the warm water back. You watch as it slides down the tube and flows into you. The warmth and steadily mounting pressure fill you with a lust you’d never really known before. She studies your face and body, then moves her hand to your abdomen. On the pretext of massaging your stomach, her hand edges closer and closer to your groin. Almost shyly, she rests her hand on your cock, then, abandoning her reserve, reaches under your gown and grasps it firmly and lovingly. She can feel its power and urgency pulsing in her hand. Her own crotch is moist with understanding of what he’s feeling and her own lust. She remembers her promise to herself that he’d remember this fondly and decides to take whatever steps are necessary to ensure it.

Responding to her gesture, you draw your knees up, allowing her to crouch between them, facing you. She hungrily takes your cock deep into her mouth. The combination of the pressure in your gut and sucking on your cock is almost more than you can stand. NEVER have you felt like this before! She stops sucking and starts lightly flicking the crown of your penis with her tongue. Her enjoyment is obvious. Again sensing how close you are to coming, she backs away, but still keeps her hand on your rigid cock. This lady knows exactly what she’s doing! She looks at the now empty bag and closes the clamp but leaves the nozzle in you. She tells you to put your knees down, and as she gingerly mounts you, you realize she isn’t wearing any panties! The little vixen had it planned! You almost laugh but her hot pussy sliding onto your rigid cock brings you back to focus.

You thrust your hips to meet her cunt. She gasps in surprise and pleasure. You feel the lips of her cunt reach out to grasp you. As she moves up and down on your shaft, you’re not sure you can hold the water inside you, but your cock and her pussy tell you there’s no stopping now. You clench your ass around the nozzle, making you even more aware of its presence. You have a sudden realization of how a woman must feel to be penetrated. You thrust your cock, plunging deep in her hot cunt. She cries out in the fury of intense orgasm, her back arches and she stiffens. Your own cum is only a stroke or two away. You thrust again, then feel yourself melting into the sweet oblivion that only spectacular sex brings. You shake in each other’s arms. You know that after the stitches have healed and your dignity recovered, you’ll always remember this moment. And smile.