That Warm Fuzzy Feeling

By Tamara -

For many years now I have closely guarded an intimate sexual secret that I have deep within me. Fearing that I would be looked upon as being abnormal in some way has always prevented me from directly revealing my secret to another living soul. You see, I enjoy getting, and giving, an enema! Especially, a nice warm soapy one while draped comfortably over an ample lap. This intimate desire has been with me since childhood. I would be embarrassed if any of my friends, or worse yet, my co-workers, ever found out my little secret. Its not everyday that you run into a 38yo female, retail manager, and head of the local church group, that enjoys being taken over a lap and syringed out like a little girl. Don’t get me wrong, its not that I want to be a child again, its just that I enjoy the nice warm sensuous feeling that an enema gives me.

I know my appearance doesn’t really have anything to do with my story, but for those that need to know, I am 5’5”, 112 lbs., 34-26-36. I have reddish brown hair, hazel eyes, and have a light complexion. My mom always say’s that I remind her of actress Stephanie Zimbalist…

I guess I was about seven years old when I first became aware of what an enema was. Actually, it was quite by accident. I had gone into the house after playing outside in the yard all afternoon. I headed up to my bedroom to put my things away. Actually, it wasn’t completely my own bedroom. At that time, I was sharing the room with Karen, my sister, who is three years older. When I went into the bedroom my mom was sitting on the edge of the bed and Karen was draped over her lap with her underwear pulled down. Mom was shaking something in her right hand.

“What’s going on mom?” I asked, inquisitively.

“Karen seems to be running a little fever, hon, and I’m going to take her temperature.” she explained. “Just put your things away and go back downstairs until I’m finished with Karen.”

I went about quickly putting my things away, trying not to look at what was going on. As I was putting my cloths in the closet, I glanced over at them out of the corner of my eye. I could see mom sticking the thermometer into a small jar of vaseline then withdrawing it. I pretty much figured out that she was going to stick that in karen’s butt. I began to wonder if it would hurt or not. I hadn’t recalled ever having it done to me before. A moment later, I saw mom spread the cheeks of Karen’s bottom with the fingers of one hand while the fingers of her other hand began to insert the thermometer into her. It must not have hurt to bad because I didn’t hear Karen say anything. Mom just let go of the thermometer and it stayed between Karen’s cheeks. Karen didn’t seem to have any kind of expression on her face that indicated any discomfort.

Just then, mom looked towards me and ask if I was finished yet, and to go back downstairs like she had asked. “Okay mom.” I said, and headed for the door, fearing that I might be getting the same treatment as Karen was getting if I hung around to long.

About ten minutes later I heard mom come back downstairs. I was in the front room watching TV. “What’s wrong with Karen?” I asked.

“She has a little fever.” mom said, as she walked towards the kitchen.

I could hear my mom in there doing something, maybe lunch I thought, so I went in to see what she was doing. As I went in, she was just walking towards the door. She was carrying a sauce pan in one hand, and a funny looking round object in her other hand. The way she was carrying the pan indicated that it had some sort of liquid in it.

“What’s that?” I ask.

‘It’s a little soapy water.” she said, smiling her usual motherly way.

“Soapy water!” I queried. “What’s that for?”

“I’m going to give Karen an enema.” she said, explaining as she walked towards the stairs. “She’s running a little fever and hasn’t gone to the bathroom for a few days and this will help her.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked inquisitively, peering ominously at the little red bulb she was holding in her hand.

She let out a little laugh. “No, silly,” she added. “It’s just a little warm water that’s all. It helps you go to the bathroom when you don’t feel well.” Starting up the stairs as she nonchalantly explained.

I watched as mom topped the stairs and turned into our bedroom. I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening up there. I could hear mom tell Karen to lay across her lap again. I didn’t hear Karen put up a fuss, so I didn’t think it was much of a deal. I wanted to go up and take a peek, but I knew that mom would probably get upset. Karen’s modesty I suppose.

My curiosity getting the best of me, I crawled halfway up the stairs to see if I could hear anything. I could see into the bedroom a little ways. Suddenly, I noticed the tall mirror that was next to the door reflecting part of the bedroom. Going up one more stair, I was suddenly given a full view of our room. There was mom sitting on the bed with Karen over her lap in just about the same position as when she had taken her temperature. Karen was wearing her pajama top, but was bare from the waist down. Mom had already inserted the nozzle of the little squeeze bulb and was in the process of squeezing it. Karen didn’t look like she was in any pain or anything, but I couldn’t help but notice that she was clinching her feet and toes a little. I was mesmerized at the sight of the red bulb being held between her cheeks. For some reason, I found it fascinating.

Staying real quiet, I watched as mom withdrew the nozzle from Karen’s behind and refill it from the pan that was sitting on the nightstand. She would just squeeze the bulb and suck the water up into it. I could hear it make little gurgling and sucking sounds. Once it was full again she would spread open Karen’s cheeks with the fingers of her left hand while she inserted the nozzle with her other hand. I could see Karen squirm her bottom a bit when mom squeezed the bulb. I heard mom tell her to just relax, it would be all over in a few minutes.

“It feels full mom!” Karen exclaimed.

After two more bulbs full, I watched as mom placed the squeeze bulb in the pan of water and left it there.

“That ought to do it.” mom said. “Just lie still for a moment Karen, and give the water a chance to work.”

Figuring that mom would come out in a moment, I quietly scooted back down the stairs and sat in the front room. I could hear someone go into the upstairs bathroom. I assumed that it was Karen. I was right, because mom was coming down the stairs carrying the pan with the bulb placed in it heading towards the kitchen. I could hear mom placing the pan in the sink. The sound of water running in the sink made me wonder if she was finished giving Karen the enema.

A moment later mom came out of the kitchen. She didn’t have anything in her hand, so, I figured that she was finished. She was wiping her hands on a small hand towel.

‘How do you feel Tam?” she asked.

“I feel fine mom.” I replied.

“Just making sure.” she said. “Karen has a little touch of stomach flu, and I want to make sure everyone is not coming down with it. You just let me know if you start to feel bad, okay hon.”

“I will mom.” I replied.

“I’m going across the street to have coffee with Mrs. Powell.” she said. “If you need anything just give me a call over there. I won’t be gone very long.”

‘Okay mom, I’m just going to watch TV for awhile and get my homework done afterwards.”

Mrs. Powell was our neighbor who lived across the street. Her and mom would get together for coffee all the time. They also had two kids that were about the same age as karen and I. Mrs. powell would watch us when mom was away, and vice versa. We lived in a nice neighborhood where everyone new each other, and helped one another. Maybe its me, but it seems like the neighborhoods aren’t like that anymore.

As soon as mom left I headed upstairs to see how Karen was feeling. She was laying in bed watching TV.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m okay.” Karen replied. “I hadn’t gone to the bathroom for a few days, and mom thought I needed to be cleaned out.”

“I know.” I said. “ I saw mom stick that thing in you to take your temperature. Did it hurt or anything?”

“It didn’t really hurt, but I didn’t like it.” Karen said. “Then mom squirted some warm water in my butt to make me go to the bathroom. I didn’t like that at all, it made me feel all full like I had to go to the bathroom real bad.”

“Boy, I’m sure glad I didn’t get sick.” I said. “I don’t think I want one of those things. She never gave us anything like that before when we got sick?”

“I think its just for when your stomach is upset or you can’t go to the bathroom or something.” Karen replied.

After we talked for awhile Karen said that she was tired and wanted to take a nap, so I went back downstairs and watched TV.

I remember going into the kitchen to get a glass of pop and seeing the pan and syringe still in the sink. The pan was full of fresh soapy water, and the syringe was apparently soaking in it. I remember how formidable it looked floating amongst the bubbles, and knowing that it had been stuck in Karen’s bottom.

I went back out to the front room and watched TV. I didn’t think to much more about it other than it was was of mom’s remedies. I was just glad that I wasn’t sick!

A little while later mom came back from visiting Mrs. Powell. She had mentioned that both her kids were also sick. “Must be something going around.” she said, and then went upstairs to see how Karen was doing.

As I recall, a few hours later mom called for me to come upstairs. She was busy in the bathroom doing something.

“Yes mom.” I replied, once I got to the bathroom door.

“I want to check your temp.” mom said. “I want to make sure that your not coming down with anything, like everyone else is.”

“But I feel fine mom!” I replied.

“I know Tam, but I just want to make sure your not running a little fever.”

I remember suddenly telling her that I didn’t want to get one of those enema things. She just laughed and said that she just wanted to take my temperature, and that I didn’t look like I needed an enema. That was a relief I though.

She sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. “Take your shorts and underwear down.” she said.

After pushing them down to my ankles, she reached for my arm and pulled me towards her. I remember thinking how funny it felt to be standing there like that with my panties pulled down.

“Lay across my lap.” she said. “It will be easier that way.”

Leaning forward, I crawled across her lap. Her arm sort of guided me into position. I remember how funny it felt to be laying like that with my bottom all bare. I could feel the cool room air suddenly go all around my midsection. Glancing back, I watched as she applied a little vaseline to the thermometer, just like she had done with Karen. A moment later, I felt her left hand pry open my bottom cheeks while her other hand began to slip the little glass thermometer into me. At first, it felt a little cool, then it sort of tingled as it was sliding in. I hadn’t expected it to feel quite like that. It didn’t hurt at all. As a matter of fact, I was enjoying the little tingly sensations that it was giving me! It wasn’t until I got into puberty that I discovered that I had gotten a sexual thrill from it. Mom held me over her lap for a good five minutes with the thermometer stuck in my behind.

“Well, it doesn’t look like your running a temp.” she said. “You can get up now.” she added, helping me up from her lap.

I remember feeling a little disappointed that the ordeal was over. For some reason, I had enjoyed the little tingles that it had given me. I was hoping that she would have to put it back in, but that didn’t happen. Out of embarrassment, I didn’t dare mention to her that it sort of tickled and felt nice.

I didn’t think much more about it until an incident that happened a few weeks later. I wasn’t feeling well one day, and mom kept me home from school. Around midmorning she came into my room to check and see how I was doing. After feeling my head she mentioned that she had better take my temperature. Remembering back to the previous time that she had taken my temperature made me sort of look forward to it. Of course I protested a bit as I didn’t want her to know that I got a kick out of it.

She left for a few minutes, then returned with the thermometer and jar of vaseline. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulled down my covers and told me to turn over. I don’t know why, but I just assumed that she would take my temperature like before, over her lap.

“Do you want me to get up mom?” I asked.

“No, this is just fine.” she said, working down my pajama bottoms and panties while she spoke. “Why, would you rather I put you over my knee Tam.” she added, with a little laugh.

“Umm, no.” I replied shyly, “I just thought that was the way it was supposed to be done.”

“No, this way is easier right now, hon.” she explained.

A few moments later, I felt her slide the vaseline coated thermometer into my behind. Just like before, it felt cold and tingly as it slipped in. I just hugged my pillow with my arms and enjoyed the tingly little sensations it was giving me.

Just then, the phone rang! “You just lay still.” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to check it.”

“Okay mom.” I said, as she got up and went back downstairs to get the phone. I was acutely aware of the little thermometer that was stuck in my behind. I reached back and gently touched it. It felt really weird to feel something that was stuck in my bottom like that. I could feel a slight tingle when my fingers brushed against it. I didn’t dare do any more than that, fearing that it might come out or that mom would somehow know that I touched it.

I could hear mom hang up the phone. A few moments later she came back into my room. “Well, how are we doing?” she exclaimed, with a pleasant tone, reaching for the thermometer and pulling it out of me as she spoke. I turned my head and watched as she read the numbers that were printed along its edge. She walked over towards the window and held up the thermometer in the sunlight. Apparently, the numbers were not to visible.

“Looks a little high.” she exclaimed, but not to bad. “Nothing to worry about.” she added, with a smile. “I’d better check it again just to make sure though, okay Tam. These darn numbers are so small I can hardly read them.”

“Okay mom.” I mumbled shyly.

I remember thinking that I was glad that she had to do it again. I know it sounds strange, but I actually liked having her take my temp. It was such an indescribable sensation to me. I couldn’t understand why Karen thought it was so uncomfortable.

I watched as mom shook the thermometer down again. Like before, I felt her fingers spread my bottom cheeks then insert it. I remember letting out a little giggle as it went in.

“What are you giggling about?” mom chimed, apparently amused by my adolescent giddiness.

“It tickled a little!” I impishly replied, feeling a little embarrassed and red faced at my audible acknowledgement.

Detecting my embarrassment, mom just laughed and made light of my ticklishness. “Its nice to see that you are at least in good spirits even if you are feeling a little under the weather.” she added.

After a few minutes, she reached for the thermometer and withdrew it from my behind, immediately holding it up to the light. I could see the smeared vaseline along it’s length when she held it up.

“Still looks a little high.” she said, with a concerned look on her face. “I know your probably not going to like the idea…honey, but I think a little enema would probably do you a world of good.”

“Please mom, not one of those!” I blurted out. “Can’t I just take some medicine or something?”

“Oh, don’t be silly Tam.” she replied, indicating that it wasn’t any anything to be worried about. “It’s just a little warm water, that’s all.” she explained.

Having my temperature taken was one thing, but this enema thing was something completely different. I wasn’t prepared for this! Almost immediately, my mind flashed back to images of Karen getting one, and remembering her remarks afterwards.

“Will it hurt mom?” I asked.

“Of course not, dear.” she replied, in a reassuring voice. “You’ll just feel a little warm water and some fullness when I squirt it in, that’s all, but I promise it won’t hurt a bit.”

Mom left the bedroom saying that she would be back in a minute. Any thoughts that I had about the thermometer tickling were set aside for the moment. Quite frankly, this enema business had me a little worried. I pulled up my panties and pajamas and waited nervously for mom to return.

About ten minutes later she returned carrying the familiar squeeze bulb and pan of soapy water. Just the sight of the formidable little bulb made me nervous. I watched as she sat the pan down on the nightstand, just as she had done with Karen. Only this time, mom sat down on the chair that was turned around in front of our bedroom desk.

“C’mon Tam.” she said, in a quiet pleasant tone. “This will only take a few minutes honey”, patting her upper legs as she spoke. “Come over here and lay across my lap.”

I got up from the bed and walked over to where she was sitting. She was in the process of draping a towel over her upper legs. I pretty much figured out that she was going to give me the enema the same way she had given Karen one…over her lap.

“Take your pajama bottoms and panties off.” she said.

Standing next to her, I pushed my pajamas and panties down then stepped out of them. Like before, I leaned forward and laid down across her lap. Her arm sort of guided me into place. I felt her hands grab hold of my hips and scoot me up so that my rear was almost in the center of her lap. It felt a little funny because when I leaned over the rest of the way, my feet came off the floor, balancing me in the center of her lap. I felt so bare, but for some reason, I liked the feeling it was giving me.

“That’s a girl.” she said. “Now just relax hon, this won’t hurt a bit.”

I felt her fingers spread my bottom cheeks, then almost immediately I felt the tip of the nozzle touch my hole, and then slide right into me. Like the thermometer, it actually felt quite pleasurable. A moment later I felt this nice warm tingly feeling go all up through me as she squirted the water in. She was right, it didn’t hurt a bit.”

She had filled the rubber bulb three more times and squeezed the water in me, and each time it felt the same way. At no time did it ever really hurt like I thought. Mostly, it just made me feel a little full down there. Actually, I was enjoying the little tickles!”

After the last bulb full, she held me in place for a few minutes. I remember wanting to go to the bathroom real bad. When she finally let me up, I barely sat down on the toilet when all the soapy water gushed out of me. It was really a refreshing feeling to get all cleaned out like that. I actually felt better! That wasn’t so bad I thought. To listen to Karen, you’d think it was the worse thing in the world or something.

“Feel better hon?” mom asked, as I walked back into the bedroom. Not wanting to let on that I sort of like it, I just said, “oh, it was ok mom”, in a quiet tone.

“I told you it wouldn’t hurt, dear, didn’t I.” she exclaimed, in her motherly voice. “Now you just hop into bed, and we’ll see how your doing later this afternoon…okay.”

“Okay mom.” I replied, as she walked towards the door. “Will I have to get another enema?” I asked.

“No, dear, I think one enema is enough to give you a good cleaning out for awhile.” she replied, with a smile.

From that point on, enemas were a fairly common remedy around our home, at least up until I was about 15 or so. Usually about once a month you got a good cleaning out. Karen would always complain, and I would always look forward to them. Of course, I would never reveal my true feelings. I would always make like I hated them, but inside, I would secretly enjoy the feeling of the warm soapy water being squirted up my behind. It was such a sensuous, relaxing, feeling to me. I should mention, that right up into my teens, mom would always used the over the lap position with the red squeeze bulb. I use to think that being given and enema in that position was only for kids, but the more I’ve read about them, it seems to be a fairly common position even for adults.

As I had mentioned, mom stopped giving us enemas and taking our temperature rectally when we were in our early teens. I just figured that she thought we to old or something. Actually, I sort of missed being given an enema once in awhile. I remember a few occasions when I was about 16 or so, I would mention to mom that I wasn’t feeling well in the hopes that she would just take me upstairs to the bathroom, put me over her lap and give me a nice warm enema. She never suggested it, so I usually dismissed the thought as being immature and not something I was supposed to need after childhood. I wasn’t overly infatuated with enemas or anything like that when I was growing up, it’s just that I enjoyed the nice intimate sensations they gave me.

Like most teens, I discovered the joy’s of masturbation. It was pretty much then that I started associate the feelings that I got during the enemas with some of my sexual fantasies. Some were more elaborate than others, but most of the fantasies that involved enemas usually started with me being taken over a faceless lap, then my panties or pajama’s would be slowly taken down, sometimes over and over again. It really made me hot thinking about how it would feel to be bared like that. In my fantasy, a soft loving voice would usually be telling me that I was going to be given, a nice, warm, soapy, enema, each time my panties were pulled down. I would usually climax after the person in my fantasy gave me a few bulbs full.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but after I discovered how much fun it was to play with myself, I don’t think there was a night that went by that I didn’t. By now, I had moved into my own room, which afforded me plenty of opportunities. You might laugh, but one of my favorite games that I use play involved a pair of pajamas that I had bought. As soon as I saw them at the department store, I knew that I had to have them. They were a full body pajama, complete with feet and a drop drawer that snapped in the back. Sort of an adult version of Dr. Dentin’s. I didn’t know that they even made them for adults. The pair I bought was made of blue flannel and buttoned up the front. The looked like they’d be real cozy in the winter. I know it must sound childish, but I found it somewhat arousing to wear something that had a flap in the back. I was thinking about all the fun I could have wearing them, especially without anything underneath!

As soon as I got home from shopping I literally ran up to my room. I stripped to the buff and tried on my new pajama’s. They felt so soft and comfortable against my bare skin. Normally I have on underwear, but that would have defeated the purpose that I had for buying the pajama’s in the first place! I turned my back towards my door mirror and eyed the back flap. I couldn’t help but giggle at how cute it looked. The flap had three snaps across the top and one on each side holding it in place. I reached back and slid my finger in along the edge of the flap and touched the fleshy skin of my behind. Obviously, I’ve touched my rear before, but this was something different. For some reason, I found the whole thing very arousing. Wanting to see what I looked like, I pulled on three of the snaps and let one side of the flap fall open. It gave me a little thrill to see half my bare butt come into view like that.

Nobody would be home for a few hours yet, so I decided to wear my pajama’s around the house, and try out my new flap! I must have looked quite a sight walking around the house opening and closing the back of my pajama’s. You might laugh, but it was so arousing to walk around with it open like that. I don’t know why, but for some reason, it felt more bare than if I was completely naked! Having worked myself up to a very horny state, I closed the flap and went up to my room just in case somebody came home. I opened some of the buttons on the front of my pajama’s, then laid face down on my bed, straddling a pillow with my legs spread real wide. Reaching under myself, I slid my hand into my pajama’s and began fingering myself to a much needed release. As my orgasm neared, I reached back and pulled open the flap on the back of my pajama’s, completely exposing myself. It gave me a rush when I felt the room air go all up between my legs and bare bottom. I just laid there climaxing, fantasizing that I was about to be given a nice, warm enema, right up that squirming bare butt of mine.

After I left for college, I didn’t think much about the enemas again until I was in my third year. By that time, I was 21 years old and living on campus, sharing a room with another girl. Her name was Celia, who recently transferred here from Arizona Tech. We got along real well and shared a lot of the same interests. Like me, she was basically a quiet person and wasn’t into the college “scene” so to speak. We both had male friends that we dated, but we respected each others privacy and kept our shared room a sanctuary.

Anyway, Celia had just gotten back from spring break the day before and was telling me all about her visit home, when all of the sudden, she casually mentions something that just about floored me. She went on to tell me how she she got sick at home and that her mom had to give her an enema…

“You mom had to give you an enema!” I exclaimed, trying not to make her feel uncomfortable about her revelation. I wanted to hear more about it without sounding like I was overly interested or something.

“Well yeah.” she said. “It was no big deal or anything. I wasn’t feeling very good the last few day’s that I was home, and I just ask her if she’d give me one. Why, what’s so big about that?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing.” I replied, trying to sound casual. “I got them a few times myself when I was growing up. I was just wondering that’s all.”

“An enema isn’t just for kid’s.” she laughed.

Celia went on to tell me about the rest of her vacation. Obviously, to her, the enema wasn’t any big deal. For some reason, I had this burning desire to hear about it! I’m not gay or anything like that, its just that it stirred something up inside of me. Ever since I turned 16 I’ve wanted to experience that very same thing, but I always feared that my mom would think that there was something wrong with me for asking something like that, worse yet, I didn’t want her to think I had some sort of anal fixation just because I enjoyed an enema once in awhile, and I certainly didn’t want Celia to get the wrong impression either.

We continued chatting for a few more hours, then decided to go down to the cafeteria for a snack. I decided that somehow I was going to ask her about the enema again. I would just wait for the right moment to casually bring it up without appearing obvious.

We sat around the cafeteria chatting with some of the other students that we knew from classes. I decided that I would bring it up on the way back to the dorm.

“Hey Celia, can I ask you a personal question?” I asked, as we casually walked back towards our dorm.

“Sure, Tam.” she replied, in a friendly tone. “What?”

“Promise you won’t laugh now?” I chimed, as if I was about to let my guard down to a close friend that you always shared secrets with.

“Tam, you know I wouldn’t do that.” she said. “Look at all the stuff I’ve told you, and you never laughed at me!”

“Well, umm…this is sort of different.” I said. “I would be like, so embarrassed if you laughed at me.”

“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to choke it out of you!” she replied, jokingly, chuckling as she said it.

“Remember when we were talking earlier, and you told me about the enema you had gotten when you were home?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, I remember.” she replied. “What about it?”

“Didn’t your mom think it was a little unusual for you to ask her to give you one?” I asked.

“Of course not.” Celia said. “It’s not like I was getting-off on it or anything.” she added, with a laugh. “I mean, an enema isn’t the easiest thing in the world to give yourself, if you know what I mean. My mom always gave them to us kids while we were growing up, so it was no big deal when I ask her to give me one.”

“Say, why the interest in enemas?” Celia asked. “Is it like a sexual fantasy or something?” she added, kiddingly.

“No, not really a fantasy, or anything like that.” I said, trying not to be embarrassed about it. “Don’t laugh now, but when I was growing up I use to enjoy the feeling they gave me.” Blushing a little as I said it. “And when you had mentioned the one your mom gave you, I found myself…sort of thinking about it.”

“I’m not laughing!” Celia exclaimed. “I sometimes enjoy the feeling they produce myself.” She added, joking as she said it. “There’s nothing wrong with that, a lot of people like the feeling when they get an enema. That doesn’t mean they’re weird or anything. An enema can be a very relaxing and soothing experience. Like anything else, some people like em…and some don’t.”

“Your mom sounds pretty understanding.” I commented. “I would be so embarrassed just bringing it up at all!”

“Well, do the same thing I did.” Celia explained. “The next time you home, just casually ask her. Trust me…its no big deal! I’m sure your mom probably wouldn’t think anything unusual or weird about it at all. If she knew, she’d probably wonder why you “didn’t” ask.”

“Hey…Tam, If you were a mom, wouldn’t you expect your kid to be able to ask you for an enema if they needed one?”

“Your probably right, Cel.., I’ll have to think about it though. You know, get up the nerve and all that.”

“And here I thought you had something really “important” to ask me.” Celia joked. “I mean, it’s only an enema. It’s not like you have some sort of adolescent regression thing or something, just because you got them when you were a kid.” laughing as she said it. Enemas are pretty common, its just that you don’t hear everyone talking about them. I think its just “you” that feels uncomfortable with it, nobody else really cares. I mean, look at me, did you think there was something wrong with me when I mentioned that I got an enema?”

“No, not really.” I replied.

“Well then, don’t let it bother you.” she exclaimed, casually shrugging her shoulder as she said it.

“Your probably right…Celia.”

I felt a lot better after talking to Celia. I guess it wasn’t such a big deal after all. A touch of self consciousness I suppose.

A few months later Celia and I said our goodbys for the summer. Before leaving we made arrangements to share the same room next semester. It’s to bad we lived so far apart because it would have been fun to do some things together during our summer vacation, but being from Ohio and her from Arizona made that near impossible.

After I was home for a few weeks, I pretty much settled into the old summer routine. I took a job at the local youth camp to earn enough for cloths and books next semester. Its kind of hard to get a decent paying job when the employer knows that your leaving in a few months. I guess that’s why they hire college students…you work cheap, and they know your leaving!

I hadn’t really thought much about the enema business lately, figuring that maybe it was just a stage I was going through, until one afternoon when I was helping mom with some cleaning. I had been home about three weeks now and this was my day off from camp, so I thought I’d give her a hand around the house. She wanted to clean out the kitchen cupboards and get them ready for repainting. I always enjoyed doing little projects with mom because we would just chat away while we worked.

Anyway, as I was busy taking things from the cupboards and placing them on the table I suddenly noticed something that caught my immediate attention! There sitting with all the other stuff mom had removed from the cupboards was the little box that contained the enema bulb. It gave me a funny sort of fluttering feeling to see it setting there like that. I couldn’t help but stare at it for a few moments, remembering the times it had been used on me during my adolescence. The box looked a little worn and somewhat faded, and you could tell that the flaps had been opened a few times by their worn edges. I wanted to pick it up and look at it, but for some reason I felt self conscious about touching it with mom there. As I continued to put more things on the table I would periodically glance at it, almost mesmerized by its appearance. Mom and I continued chatting, but the enema syringe was not far from my mind. I’d take a look at it later I thought to myself…

At around 7pm we decided to call it a day. Mom was busy washing her hands in the kitchen sink while I was busy trying to make a little room on the table for us to have a bite to eat. While shifting some of the things around I picked up the little box containing the enema bulb. I was fascinated by the box, which had a picture of it on the front and back. The label read “Squeeze Bulb Enema Syringe” in black letters. That was the first time that I actually touched the box. I guess mom kept it in one of the upper cupboards. I could feel the roundness of the rubber bulb inside the box when I gave it a little squeeze.

“I forgot I had that old thing in here.” mom said, suddenly, glancing in my direction as she spoke. “I haven’t cleaned these cupboards out in so long I had no idea what’s in them.” she added, looking around again at the cupboards, laughing.

It startled me for a second that mom saw me looking at it, but it didn’t seem like she thought too much about it anyway, so I thought! After all, I was pretty much an adult now. I sat the box back down trying not to appear obvious.

Just then, she said something right out of the clear blue sky that definitely took me by surprise.

“Have you had one of those lately, Tam?” she casually asked, as if it was a passing thought.

“No.” I chuckled. “I haven’t been sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to use an enema!” she said, laughingly. “It’s healthy to clean your system out once in awhile. I use one whenever I get a little sluggish and it gives me a refreshed feeling again. Your Grandma was a firm believer in them her whole life. Even when you kids were growing up I would sometimes go over to her house for a good cleaning out.” she added, with a chuckle.

“Really!” I replied.

“Absolutely!” she said. “Even the health magazines recommend them to maintain a healthy system. Probably because of all the fast food’s that are out there today aren’t all that healthy for you.”

“Hmmm…I didn’t know that.” I replied, trying to sound somewhat indifferent.

After mom finished wiping her hands on the towel we both headed for the front room to relax and watch a little TV. I told mom that I was going to take a shower first and put on my nightgown.

While I was taking my shower I kept thinking about what she said about taking an enema. She made it sound so natural, and a healthy thing to do. I felt a little guilty because I secretly wanted one, not to clean out my system, but because I wanted to feel that warm soapy water squirt all up my behind! I wanted to experience that same sensation again, like when I got them as a kid…

After my shower, I put on my long flannel nightgown then headed back downstairs to watch TV.

“You look comfortable.” mom said, commenting on my new nightgown as I sat down in the large old recliner.”

‘Thank’s mom.” I replied. “I thought they’d be perfect for wearing around the dorm this coming semester. They were on sale so I thought I’d pick up a couple of them.”

We sat quietly and watched TV for awhile. It was nice to just sit home and relax after 8-months in a shared dorm. I liked Celia and all that, but I missed the privacy and comfort of my own home.

I was glad mom mentioned the enema while we were chatting earlier. I felt relieved knowing that it was somewhat acceptable. I guess that I have always equated it to a childhood type remedy, therefore, was not something that you did when you got older. Of course, I wasn’t about to mention the fact that I “enjoyed” the feeling they gave me! I guess that’s something only I would know.

“Mom, remember when you were telling me about grandma?” I asked, as we watched TV.

“Yes, dear…you mean about the enema?” she replied.

“Well, sort of I guess.” I managed to say. I could hardly believe that I had even brought up the subject, but after hearing mom talk about it I thought it would be okay to broach the subject without being obvious.

Mom looked puzzled for a moment, then a small smile stretched across her lips. “Ah, you mean when I told you that she had given me a good cleaning out.” she laughed, her smile widening. “Sometimes its a little awkward to give yourself one you know.” she explained, so.., your grandma gave me a little hand with it. Why do you ask, hon?”

I thought to myself that this might be a perfect opportunity to see if she might give me one like that sometime. I just wasn’t sure how to ask, or if it was even appropriate. Remembering back to when Celia had told me how she had asked, I decided to give it a shot.

“I, umm… was thinking mom, that maybe I could use a good cleaning out myself, and was sort of wondering if you could…give me one?” I could feel my own face blush asking mom something like that. I hoped she wouldn’t notice my nervousness, but I couldn’t think of any other way to ask her. Oh geeze! I thought, she’ll probably think I’m an idiot or something and start laughing. I tried to act nonchalant about it and continued watching TV.

A moment later, mom said, in a quiet tone, “Why yes, dear, I can give you an enema if you’d like me to. I’ll get it right after the movie, okay hon.” she added, as if it wasn’t anything unusual.

It hadn’t dawned on me that it would be right away! I sort of figured that it might be tomorrow or something.

About a half hour later…

“That was a good movie.” mom said, stretching her arms as she spoke. “I’d better get that enema ready before I forget!” she added, getting up and heading towards the kitchen. “It will only take me a few minutes dear, then we’ll get you all cleaned out.”

I watched as mom headed upstairs carrying the little box. I thought I’d be more nervous than this; but actually, I felt an unusual sort of calm for some reason.

Suddenly, I heard mom call out, “Tam, I’m ready…”

My stomach fluttered at the sound of her words. It was as if a scene from my childhood had suddenly emerged again. I couldn’t believe that I was actually heading upstairs to get an enema from my mom! I guess Celia was right when she said, “just ask, it’s no big deal.”

Once upstairs, I found mom in the bathroom. “I guess we can do it in here.” she said, wiping her hands on a towel as she spoke. As I stepped into the bathroom my senses suddenly detected the scent of ivory soap lingering in the air, verified by the half full sink of bubbly water. Almost immediately, my eyes fixed on the squeeze bulb that was sitting along the top edge of the sink, it’s black nozzle already shiny with a coating of vaseline. I felt a little awkward, but mom’s pleasant demeanor about the whole thing seemed to put me at ease.

“How do we do this?” I asked, inquisitively.

“Well.” she said, with a little smile. “I guess about the best way is for you to bend over my lap, dear. But if you prefer, you can bend over the edge of the tub if you like, just so long as your butt is up and your comfortable is all that really matters.”

“I guess I could just lean over your lap.” I replied, quietly.

“That’s fine, dear.” she said, sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. “This is the best way to give one anyway.” she added, reaching for a towel and draping it over her lap as she spoke.

As if by instinct and without saying a word, I reached up under my long flannel nightgown and pulled my panties down, stepping out of them as they fell down around my ankles. Any apprehensions that I had seemed to vanish, replaced by an overall sense of wholesome serenity. I stepped over to where mom was sitting and pulled up my nightgown, holding it up around my waist with my right hand. I was acutely aware of the room air as it engulfed my bare midsection.

“Are you ready?” mom asked, in a pleasant tone, reaching for my arm to help balance me. It felt a little awkward, but I bent my knees to an almost kneeling position then leaned over and slowly laid down across her lap. I pushed myself forward a little so that my midsection was over her right leg. Once in position, I let my weight relax against her upper legs. The softness of the bath towel made me want to snuggle against it, especially with my behind all bare. It was almost as if a lap was made for this. Definitely an exquisite feeling. I even felt more bare when mom suddenly pushed my nightgown up higher, rolling it up to the lower part of my back.

“Am I too heavy mom?” I asked, not knowing if my weight was to much for her legs.

“Oh no, dear, not at all.” she replied. “You would think it would be heavy, but it really isn’t.” she added, extending her arm towards the sink and filling the syringe as she talked.

I blushed a little when mom remarked jokingly that my bottom was a little bigger than she remembered, giving it a pat as she said it.

A moment later, I felt her finger spread my bottom cheeks, followed immediately by the nozzle touching my rear hole, then slip effortlessly into my behind. I felt pleasantly speared by the coolness of the little nozzle as it tickled its way in. Mom suddenly squeezed the bulb sending a flood of warm soapy water throughout my insides. It was a warm fuzzy tingly sensation that started at my rear hole, then went all the way to my tummy. I almost gasp at the suddenness of it! I could feel my hole involuntarily clutch the little black shaft as it squirted. It felt so delightfully naughty that I wondered how this could be good for you. Mom had emptied at least six bulbs full in my behind, and each time I felt the same strange tingly sensation shoot all through me. Now I knew why I wanted to experience an enema again!

“Well, dear, that ought to do it.” mom exclaimed, as she withdrew the nozzle from my behind. “Just hold it in for a few minutes and that should give you a good cleaning out. You shouldn’t do them too often, dear, but a good enema at least once a month should keep your system healthy.” she added, helping me up from her lap.

I stood there for a few minutes as mom let the water out of the sink, then left the bathroom. The water was giving me a warm fullness feeling in the lower part of my abdomen. It didn’t hurt or anything, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold it very long. I remember pulling up my nightgown up around my waist and surveying my slightly distended tummy in the door mirror. I cupped it with my hands, feeling it’s fullness.

It took a good ten minutes for everything to come out of me. I couldn’t believe how refreshed I felt afterwards. After cleaning up I headed back downstairs again.

“Well, dear, how do you feel?” mom asked, in a pleasant voice.

“I feel really refreshed.” I replied. “It definitely cleaned me all out, that’s for sure.” I laughed. “Thank’s mom, for giving me a hand with it.”

“Your quite welcome, dear.” she replied. “Anytime you need a hand with it, you just let me know, hon. I know how how awkward it can be to give yourself one.” she added. “But now that your home for the summer, I’ll just leave the syringe up in hall closet just in case you need it.”

Mom and I talked for awhile as we watched TV. We both agreed that an enema can be refreshing experience, but I didn’t mention to her that I also found then not only stimulating, but down right arousing! If she knew, she’d probably never give me one again. I figured that I’d just keep that part to myself…

Later that night, after we both went to bed, I kept thinking about the enema and how nice it felt. I just laid there conjuring up all sorts of little fantasies that involved me having to get an enema. I would think of all sorts of scenarios, and even places. Sometimes it was a doctor or nurse making a house call, or even a babysitter. The various situations usually resulted me being taken over a lap, panties pulled down, then given a nice warm soapy enema. I could visualize myself over their lap just squirming all over the place while they inserted the nozzle over and over again, squirting all that warm solution deep in my behind. It made me so hot thinking about it that I finally pulled up my nightgown, yanked down my panties, and straddled my pillow until I climaxed myself to sleep.

Since that time, mom has always given me a good “cleaning out” enema whenever I needed one, which was usually about once a month. On a few occasions when I was home from school she would even ask me if I needed one!

Don’t get me wrong, my life isn’t preoccupied with enema’s, it’s just that I enjoy the nice sensual wholesome feeling that they give me when I’m given a good cleaning out. Like Celia said, a lot of people like them, it’s just that they don’t talk about it or are afraid to mention it for some reason. Fear of labeling I suppose.

I hope you enjoy reading about my personal experience. It should be noted that I have also given many enemas over the years. I have also found that many people enjoy them just about the same way I do, which as you know is, over the lap…and with the squeeze bulb.