Phyllis was a long time neighbor. In fact, we grew up almost together. She was a couple of years younger than I was, but we lived on the same block and rode the same school bus. She went to the Junior Prom and Senior Ball with another member of my class although she was 2 years behind us in school.
After high school I lost track of her while I went off to college and later to pursue a career. After the untimely death of my spouse I changed careers, moved to a new community and purchased a house well out in the suburbs on several acres of property, so I could lose myself in my hobbies of gardening and amateur radio.
One day, a few months after I moved to the new community, while out on the main road in front of the house to pick up the newspaper and take my morning jog, I hear a voice calling, “Hey, Nate (my real first name which I hate)! Is that you?”
I turned to looked at this woman who was calling. She was wearing a bathrobe, appeared to be about 35, and was reaching to retrieve the newspaper from the mailbox next to mine. I did not recognize her, but acknowledged her, and jogged back to where she was standing.
She said, “Are you the Nate who once lived on Elmer Street in Oneida, NY?” I said she was correct. Her face was vaguely familiar. She identified herself. At first I did not recognize the name but then Phyllis told me her maiden name. My memory was jolted. She was my former neighbor and who now also lived next door to me some four hundred miles and 20 years from our original home town.
I told her I had to go to work but wanted to talk more. I asked when it would be convenient to stop in. Phyllis said anytime. She had no children, had divorced her husband, and then moved to this community to pursue her career as a self employed landscape architect. She had also purchased a large plot of land to garden, have horses, and to enjoy the wild animals - like turkey and deer - grazing in the yard.
That night I went over after work. When Phyllis greeted me at the door I realized how attractive she had become (never noticed in high school looking at the underclassmen). She was about 36C-26-35 with brunette hair and perfectly dressed.
We enjoyed dinner while rehashing old times and catching up on the missing 20 years. Phyllis said she left her husband after five years of marriage, discovering he had been cheating on her - even on the honeymoon. I also told her my story. Phyllis said it was good to see an old face who could be a friend. She was not interested in being “hit upon” by men due to her history and wanted someone to depend upon in a platonic relationship. I was bitter in my own grief and also wanted the same type of relationship. I also suspected she had more of an interest in other women after her experiences.
And that is the way the relationship continued for about a year. We exchanged visits, meals, trips to the movies, other social and cultural events, and some vacation trips. We each had keys to the other person’s house so we could feed the animals and check up on things while one of us was away. Never during this time did anything occur other than a good night kiss. We were both happy with that. In fact, when we attended community affairs together we were often introduced as “Phyl and Phil - the estate owners up the street.”
Phyllis had a hot tub and I had an indoor/outdoor pool which was partially under both the garage and a greenhouse. It was usable year around. In fact, we used each others’ facilities freely after insuring that there were no other plans for them.
Oh, we had discussed sex a few times, which is when I learned my thoughts about her and other women were correct. And she had seen the enema bag and colonic setup in my bathroom off the bedroom next to the pool and inquired about that. I initially told her it was because of digestive troubles and also found them relaxing. Later, under direct questioning, I also told her that was how I was satisfying my sexual cravings - as rare as they were. She said it was different and had read about it, but that was the end of the discussion.
After a while we ended up not wearing any bathing suits in the pool. I never used a bathing suit when I was home alone but always wore a modest suit, as she did, when we had company.
The first time we swam nude occurred when I had returned early from a business trip and found her in the pool with one of her girlfriends. Both were naked. Phyllis and I were initially embarrassed. But her girlfriend, who was a naturalist, suggested that swimming that way was healthy and we shouldn’t be embarrassed about our bodies. I eventually joined them and had a ball, as we were splashing around like a group of kids. After that we nearly always swam nude. One side benefit; I had less problems with the pool filtering.
Still the relationship remained totally platonic. That is, until one day….
I invited Phyllis over for dinner after work. She said she couldn’t because she was on a special liquid diet and had to go for X-rays the next day at the request of her doctor. She was also told to take an enema at night and again in the morning before heading to the clinic. Phyllis said she was about to call me, as she had never had an enema since she was a little girl and they always hurt. She wanted to know what to do.
I said come on over and we will talk. I also said that I would help her if she wanted to and make it as painless as possible. She could even stay over if she wished. Somewhat embarrassingly Phyllis said, “Okay, but the enemas were only for medical purposes. Right?” I agreed.
As deference to her, for dinner I served clear soup and Jell-O which was all she was allowed prior to her test.
About 7:30 we went to the bedroom where she put on a robe. I prepared - in accordance with the doctor’s instructions - one of the spare 2 quart enema bags I kept (just in case a situation like this arose) and rolled it out on an IV stand next to the bed. I told Phyllis that I would fill her, but would make it as painless as possible.
I then took off her robe; she still had on her bra and panties. She asked how I wanted her positioned. I had her lie stomach down on the terrycloth cover I had provided on the bed. I told her that I wanted initially to give her a massage to relax her. She laid down on her stomach.
I had her remove her panties and I loosened her bra. Using warm baby oil and alcohol I proceeded to rub her shoulders, back, arms, hands, feet and legs. She became less tense and started to sigh as she became more relaxed. I then turned her over and also massaged her face, cheeks, stomach (staying generally away from her private parts), hands, legs and feet, lightly brushing her pubic hair and breasts with my arms. She then turned over on her back again; I repeated the effort over a 45 minute period.
By this time she was very relaxed. Now I told her I was going to lubricate her anus and she needed to get on her hands and knees. That’s when I noticed some swelling in her labia. I proceeded cautiously using a water soluble lubricant gradually pushing in my finger and rotating it until it was in as far as it could go. I proceeded to do this for a couple of minutes. I noticed more wetness as I reached under her belly to hold her stomach while doing the lubrication, again lightly brushing my arm up against her pubic area.
This was also starting to turn me on. I had on a pair of jogging shorts and the bulge was beginning to be noticeable.
I took the large tipped nozzle, lubricated it, and slowly inserted it into her anus. I told her I was going to reach into her vagina and check its position. She did not object; I did so and noticed that she was getting very wet. I then turned the cleansing solution on very slowly and told her to lay on her back.
As Phyllis did so she said, “I see this is turning you on also.”
I said, “Yes. After all this is how I get my pleasure and I am being very intimate with you.”
Phyl replied, “Why don’t you get comfortable and maybe I can return the favor.”
I said, “Now?” She said with a sigh, but emphatically, “Yes!”
I shut off her enema - she had taken only a few ounces at that point - and quickly went to the bathroom, prepared a 4 quart bag with a similar nozzle for me, and hung it on the IV pole. I handed her the lubricant and got on my hands and knees facing toward her feet. She was a little rough with the lubrication - probably out of excitement and lack of experience - but she still found my prostate and massaged it. I now was also getting very turned on. She inserted the nozzle into me and lightly tapped my ass asking how and when to start the flow of water. I said, “Now. But only open the clip a little.”
When she did, I then turned around to face her. She was playing with her nipples at that point. I offered to do that for her; she did not object. I also turned the water for her bag back on. In a few seconds she started to cramp. I started to rub her belly and said to breathe deeply. She was already breathing a little hard.
Then she said she was really turned on but the cramps were starting to take hold. I stopped the water. “Phyl,” I said, “You need to take the whole bag tonight and again in the morning.”
She replied, “I know. Can you do anything to make it easier?”
At that point the juices were practically flowing out of her. I quickly got between her legs, turned on her enema again, and then reached up with my hands and started playing with her nipples. At the same time I started to lick her labia and clitoris. She almost screamed. “Oh, wow!!! What a wild feeling!”
I asked if I should stop. “God. No!!!” she replied. I kept licking her cunt, clit, and pubic area while rubbing and pinching her nipples. She kept grabbing, pulling and rubbing my hair.
I kept up the licking of her clit and rolling and pinching her nipples all the time the 4 quarts was going into me and two quarts into her. She kept saying, “Deeper!!! Deeper!!! Faster!!! Faster!!!”
By now Phyllis was really bucking on the bed and I had all I could do to stay attached to her clit and nipples. I licked, rolled, and pinched and licked, rolled, and pinched and licked, rolled, and pinched. She kept moaning louder and louder and louder and finally I heard, “Phil, I am cumming….God….I am cumming. Don’t stop….” a deep moan. “God I am cumming again…and again!” Another scream. The same phrases and her tremendous bucking continuing and being repeated and repeated and repeated, so loud I thought I was going deaf.
Then a final shudder followed by sobbing. She cried softly and said, “I didn’t think I could cum like that any more, especially with a man. Oh, God, did I shit the bed?”
“No,” I replied. “In fact you took the whole bag like a good little girl.”
After a couple of minutes Phyllis said, “Now, my dear, it is time to take care of you. I see you have a raging hard-on and with that tube up your ass you cannot go to the bathroom till you take the entire bag. You cannot cum until you do so.” With that, she turned up the water flow and pulled me by the hair onto her body so we fit together perfectly. It didn’t take long. The bag quickly emptied and as I came up inside her she also climaxed again. We rested that way for a couple of minutes and then slowly untangled. We went into the bathroom which had been built - with great forethought - with two separate toilets along with a bidet and other normal bathroom accessories.
We took a shower and sauna together and as we dried off Phyllis said, “Phil, I still need that other enema in the morning and perhaps at least once a week after that.” I wholeheartedly agreed.
We continue our separate but together relationships to this day. Although I still like enemas, they are no longer taken alone for sensual pleasure, and, interestingly enough, Phyllis spends less time with the “girls.”