This is a true story. Names have been changed.
About 20 years ago, when I was 35, I went through a particularly tough stretch at work and began feeling listless and tired all the time.
My wife, Diane, arranged with her mother Dorothy, a nurse in a local Doctor’s office, to make an appointment for me to have a complete physical.
Everything went fine at the examination except that the Doctor recommended that I change my diet completely in order to combat a growing frequency of constipation. Everything else he concluded was likely stress related and would pass if I took my job a little less seriously.
I vowed to do that and after a few weeks felt considerably better except that the bouts of constipation continued as before.
One Saturday morning I was over at my mother-in-law’s place doing some yard work (she has been widowed for several years and I often am over there doing odd jobs) when during a coffee break the subject of my health came up (actually Dorothy brought it up). I told her that everything was OK but apparently Dorothy had been talking to Diane and knew about the constipation. I found that I was surprised that the girls had spoken about this because Diane is almost paranoid about our privacy, even with her mother.
After being confronted with Dorothy’s knowledge I admitted that I was still having problems and we got around to discussing ways of resolving the issue.
When Dorothy brought up the idea that perhaps I should take an enema or two until things sorted themselves out I became very defensive because the thought of an enema brought back some very bad childhood memories.
I think Dorothy figured out quickly that I wasn’t likely to volunteer for an enema so she began telling me that she had given all her children, including my wife, enemas on a regular basis as they grew up and she had never heard them complain that the procedure was something to fear.
I of course wasn’t convinced at all and then Dorothy told me that she had told the Doctor who had done the physical that I was still not regular and that he was apparently going to order some enemas for me if I wasn’t sorted out soon.
I’ve always been able to talk to Dorothy in an open and honest way and I told her pointblank that there was no way that I was going back to the Doctor’s for any enema.
Dorothy was silent for a few seconds and then told me that she had discussed the issue with Diane and that both had agreed that Dorothy would give the enemas in a comfortable setting, that is, if I would agree. Otherwise it would be off to the office on Monday morning.
After some discussion I agreed that I would let Dorothy give me the enemas but I was feeling kind of awkward about my mother-in-law doing this and I told her so. She reassured me that she did this all the time at the office and that she would be doing nothing more than any nurse would d under the circumstances, in other words, think of her as my nurse, not my mother-in-law.
We made our way to Dorothy’s bedroom where she took complete control of me and as I obeyed her instructions to undress, she went into her bathroom to prepare the equipment.
When she returned I was naked and standing beside the bed, not quite sure what to do next.
She had me lie on my side and I felt more comfortable with her at my back, not able to see my privates because I guess I’m one of those that finds it hard to be looked at, even by a nurse.
She kept up a comforting chatter about what she was doing and found myself relaxing quite a bit. When I said I was ready, she lubricated my anus with her finger covered in some kind of lubricating jelly and I admit that after I got used to her cold finger, the feelings were very comfortable. That is until I began to get a feeling not unlike an arousal and I began to panic a bit although I don’t think Dorothy noticed.
After a few seconds of this, she began feeding what felt like a very large nozzle into my rectum and although it didn’t hurt, I certainly felt odd. Once the nozzle was inside, she warned me again and then released the clamp and I began to feel warm water begin to trickle inside. I have to admit the feeling wasn’t bad at all. I also have to admit the faint stirrings of arousal began again, this time more forcefully. In fact, I could feel and see a slight penis erection beginning. I cannot tell you how horrified I was!
Here I was, getting an erection as my mother-in-law gave me an enema. I felt sick to my stomach and was feeling pretty guilty.
After a short while, the water was all transferred and Dorothy removed the nozzle, telling me to hold everything in as long as possible, or at least 10 minutes. I told her that I probably could because I wasn’t feeling particularly full and just about then I gasped as I experienced a sharp cramp in my guts.
Dorothy noticed me flinch and putting the enema equipment aside told me to relax and then told me to roll over onto my back so that she could massage my belly. There was no way that I could do that because by now I was fully erect and unable to hide the fact that the whole thing was arousing me.
Perhaps I said something, I can’t remember, but I do remember Dorothy telling me that she was aware of my condition and that I shouldn’t be embarrassed because this often happened to men because of the pressure of the enema on our prostate gland. It was involuntary she explained, not my fault.
Although this was comforting to hear it still didn’t make it any easier to roll over and be left hanging out for her to see.
Before I could say anything else, she had pulled me over by my hip and there I was, on my back, with my penis as hard as a rock staring her in the face. She just seemed to ignore me as is it was perfectly natural (I guess it was) and beginning at the top of my abdomen, began a two handed massage to relieve my cramps and also to move the water around.
As she worked on me we talked about everything but what was going on to relieve my tension and nervousness and gradually I became less upset at the situation and began to actually enjoy the feeling of my fullness and her hands. Her hands had begun at the top of my belly but they were gradually going farther down and I began to wonder what was going to happen when they reached the point where my penis was resting on my belly at a small angle to the right. Now I’m not particularly well endowed but when hard I am about 7” and very thick around. My wife really enjoys the thickness she has told me many times.
As we talked, Dorothy finally reached the point where either she would be massaging my penis or she would have start back up again, she reached out and as casually as blazes grasped my erection right around mid shaft with her left hand and pulled it away from my belly, holding me straight up and perpendicular from my body. With her right hand she continued the massage but now extending it to just above the root of my genitals.
Although she kept up the conversation with me as if nothing was happening, all I could feel was the coolness of her fist as she tried to encircle my shaft. My God, I was enjoying this too much. What if she suspected that I was?
Frankly I didn’t know what to do. Stop her from touching me because it felt so good, or let everything continue because it felt so good.
I did nothing and just pretended that all was normal with me.
Just about when I thought that I couldn’t take it much longer, Dorothy stopped the massage and looking at my erect penis still in her hand asked me if I felt any discomfort with being erect for so long.
I stammered out that I was feeling a bit strained given that the erection was not a prelude to sex and I admitted that it did feel a bit “odd” with her hand around it.
Dorothy immediately let me go and standing seemed a bit flustered at my comment and I hastened to tell her that I didn’t mean that she was hurting me in any way but as we had been so open, I sheepishly admitted that it had felt very nice. Dorothy simply smiled and told me that I had held the enema long enough and that I should relieve myself.
Taking that as a way to gracefully end the conversation I leaped up and went to the bathroom. After a few minutes I felt completely empty and returned to the bedroom to dress. To my surprise, Dorothy was still there and patted the bed indicating that I was to sit down. Dorothy began telling me that I shouldn’t feel badly by my reaction to her enema and massage since my reaction wasn’t within my control.
She then told me that if I wanted to masturbate because of the erection (which by then had dropped to half-mast) then she would understand and not mention that to anyone else. I was a bit shocked at her comment and yet she was right, I felt as though I wanted to masturbate although I didn’t think I was ever going to discuss it with her. I thanked her for her concern and told her that yes, the thought had occurred and that if she wasn’t going to be upset with me, I very well might do that.
At that point she got up and left the room telling me to take my time and that she would put some tea on. I must tell you that I felt really odd knowing that she knew that I was masturbating but that didn’t stop me.
I lay on the bed and tried to concentrate but after a few minutes I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to do this with her out there. I had given up when Dorothy called from the hallway and asked if I was OK. I called back and told her honestly that I was having some trouble and that I would be out shortly. Within a few seconds, Dorothy was standing at the doorway with her arms folded and asking what was the problem. I told her that despite my earlier condition I wasn’t able to get a full erection anymore, probably because of the circumstances and that I would just have to suffer. By this time we were both smiling and were quite relaxed about the whole thing.
To my surprise she came into the room and told me to get back onto the bed, lie back and relax and that she would see if there was anything she could do to help.
Dorothy reached out and grasped my soft penis gently in her hand and within 10 seconds, without her doing anything else, I began to rise up.
She remarked that masturbating under these circumstances must be like trying to tickle yourself, pretty hard to do. I agreed and before my amazed eyes she began to stroke my penis with her long fingers and cool hand. As she did she remarked quite clinically that she thought that I had a very healthy looking penis and that she didn’t see many that were thicker than mine.
I couldn’t believe what was happening and I could feel some deep boiling inside me telling me that her work was having an effect. I told her that I was feeling something coming thinking that she would stop and leave me to finish but she didn’t. Instead she told me to relax and enjoy it.
Within a few more seconds, I was erupting all over the place, the come was dripping down her clenched fist and she still kept on going until I had tell her to stop because the pleasure was reaching a point where it was turning into pain.
Dorothy simply removed her hand and went to the bathroom where I could hear her washing up. When she returned I was still lying there and she stopped and told me that while she didn’t do that for many patients, I was special and she hoped that I would understand that this was a nurse/patient thing. Of course I agreed and she left the room.
After I had left Dorothy’s place and gone home I was feeling as guilty as hell and sure that Dorothy would tell Diane what had happened. I would be toast!
Dorothy never mentioned anything to Diane except the fact that I had had an enema. I guess this nurse/patient thing is real!
This began was the first in a long string of events with Dorothy that will be talked about later.
Obsession - Part 2
Over the next few weeks, all I could think about was what had happened over at Dorothy’s. My mother-in-law had effectively given me the best hand-job and mind blowing orgasm that I think I had ever had.
The next time I was over at Dorothy’s with my wife Diane, I was trembling with fear that Dorothy was going to say something that would not only be embarrassing but would brand me as a pervert in the eyes of my wife.
Nothing happened. Dorothy asked how I was feeling and before I could answer, Diane answered for me by saying that she had never seen me as relaxed as after I had been over. Of course Diane knew about the enema, she had arranged it with her mother, but I was sure that the rest of what happened was not in the arrangement she made.
When I had a chance, I gave Dorothy a quick hug and thanked her for her help and that was the end of that.
Two months later I received a call at my office from my Doctor’s office asking how things were going and I told him that I was feeling much better. He asked how by constipation was going and told him truthfully that I still wasn’t 100%, but was much better on the new diet than before. In closing he told me that he was going to leave a standing order on my file for an enema on request, but warned me that too many were not such a good thing. I thanked him and went back to work.
It was a few weeks later that I began having one of my episodes and as quick as a wink, Diane knew what I was going through even though I hadn’t told her anything. At breakfast she asked if “everything” (her code word for constipation) was OK. She went on to remind me to look after myself and if I needed some help to tell her. I faked a smile and told her that all was OK. I don’t know why I lied but there you go, I did. Perhaps I was still feeling guilty over what had happened with Dorothy.
Around noon that day I received another call from my Doctor’s office and this time it was Dorothy who was on the line and obviously she had been talking to Diane because she immediately told me that she had heard that I was having some problem. Although I initially started to deny it, I finally agreed that I was indeed “in need of some help” but that I wasn’t sure how to go about it even though the Doctor had told me it was OK.
Dorothy was a bit put off when I told her that because she said it was obvious what I was supposed to do, call her so that arrangements could be made. The problem was that I still wasn’t sure about the previous enema and whether I was a freak for enjoying it so much.
Dorothy then asked me what time could I come over to the office and it turned out that my afternoon was filled with things that couldn’t be deferred. Her solution to that was to tell me to come by her place on the way home and that she’d fix me up in a jiffy. She added that she would call Diane and tell her why I would be late from work.
The afternoon passed in a blur and before I knew it I was at Dorothy’s and we were talking about as casually as we would if we were taking a stroll around the block as I was undressing and she was in the bathroom preparing her solution.
It was amazing to me that I had become so casual over this compared to the last time. Soon I was in the familiar position on my side and Dorothy was doing her magic finger trick behind me.
This time I wasn’t as shy about my growing erection, in fact I didn’t even take any special pains to keep myself from her view as I had before. Before long the nozzle was in and I was relaxing as the warm water flowed and I stopped talking and just let myself enjoy the flowing sensations.
Exactly as before, when the water was inside, Dorothy pulled me over onto my back except she left the nozzle fully inserted and we didn’t speak a word as she began her massage. My fully engorged penis was standing at attention as before and Dorothy at first avoided touching me there and I thought that perhaps she had had second thoughts about the first hand-job she had given me. Soon she reached the same massage point, that area where she was either going to have to grasp my penis and move it out of the way or avoid going that far down my belly.
I remember holding my breath and trying to keep my heart rate at a reasonable level as the moment of truth arrived. I knew I had to act as disinterested as possible no matter what happened. Dorothy continued to avoid touching me and worked her way around the thick log the impeded her progress. When she reached the base of my penis she continued to massage around it and the feelings were becoming increasingly powerful. I lay back and closed my eyes and wallowed in the sensations that were now coming in waves.
At that moment Dorothy spoke for the first time in a few minutes and told me to get up on my hands and knees so that the water could be distributed better. Being careful not to dislodge the nozzle, I slowly re-organized myself so that my butt was airborne and my head was buried in the pillow. Once I was in position I felt the bed sag as Dorothy changed position so that she was directly behind me. I wondered why she was doing that and soon found out.
With one hand she grasped the end of the nozzle and I felt the thick plastic as she began to slowly stroke the full length out and then back into my well lubricated anus. I can tell you that the feelings of pleasure were even stronger than they had been before. I was going out of my mind!
I couldn’t stand it any longer and was wildly thinking of some way to get her to stroke my penis too. Taking a chance I jerked a bit to indicate that I was in some discomfort. When she asked me if I was OK I told her that my penis was hurting from the constant pressure on it and that my position didn’t give me a chance to do anything about it. She asked me to explain exactly what I was planning to do. I took a deep breath and told her that since we had talked about masturbation before, I was hoping she wouldn’t be offended if I did that to relieve my growing pain. No, she didn’t mind she replied, and she kept up that maddening stroking with the nozzle.
In the position I was in it was awkward but by balancing on one hand and the top of my head I was able to get one hand back and under my body so that I could grasp the shaft of my thick and straining penis. I began to slowly stroke in time with Dorothy’s movements. After a few seconds of this I started to get a cramp in my shoulder and had to resume my previous position with both hands at my head.
Dorothy kept up her movement of the nozzle and asked me if I was finished. When I told her that I couldn’t keep the position without cramping, she made a remark about me being helpless and then reaching between my legs with her free hand, she grasped my penis from behind and pulling it back slightly, began to milk me with the coolest hand I had ever felt.
I was in heaven. All I could feel was the two stroking movements and in a few minutes (I wanted to last forever but couldn’t), I warned her that I was feeling something coming. Without pausing a beat, Dorothy continued until in an eruption of pure pleasure I began to ejaculate. Over and over the pulsing of my penis continued while my anus jerked in time. I had died and gone to heaven!
Finally I begged her to stop and she did, removing her hand and pulling out the nozzle at the same time. I collapsed on the bed feeling as though I was lost in a dream.
After a few minutes, I looked around and she was gone. I knew that this time I had gone too far since Dorothy is no fool and she would realize that I had used her in the most insane way.
After I dressed, I made my way to the kitchen where Dorothy was sitting over a coffee and sat down with her in silence. I began to apologize for putting her in the situation we had been in but before I could say much she was apologizing to me for not explaining about the nozzle movement beforehand. It seems that the Doctor had told her that my prostate was a bit “boggy”, whatever that was, and that I should receive a good prostate massage to drain it completely. That was what Dorothy had been doing with the nozzle, stimulating my prostate so that it was inevitable that I would ejaculate all that I had inside me.
Dorothy then went on to ask me if I found it objectionable that she had helped me finish, because it would be the last thing she wanted to do if I found it humiliating.
I was so relieved to hear her describe what was a medical procedure that I didn’t want to say anything. I told her that it was fine with me as long as she was going to keep the nurse/patient confidentiality thing going because I sure didn’t think that Diane would find this too acceptable.
Dorothy had thought about that too and was thinking that perhaps the other office nurse could be the one who provided any future enemas for me. I could have agreed of course but I simply couldn’t. I was now aware that I was hooked on the combination of enemas and Dorothy’s cool hands and I sure didn’t want to miss out on any future opportunities.
Should I continue with part 3?