"What I love about talking with you is I can say what's on my mind. My sexual appetite has changed so much over the years. When I was in high school and college, I would have said anything to get into your pants. I was very vagina driven. It felt like a survival of the species thing. It wasn't about a shared experience. It was about my penis in a vagina. It wasn't love making, I felt like an animal. I just needed to get it in, bury it to the hilt, and pump hard until I came." I loved our talks. They always turned me on. I took another sip of my wine. And John looked great in his chinos and starched white shirt.

"I think I remember you from high school," I said with a laugh. "The boys always disappointed me. Wham-bam thank you ma'am. I was much happier before I became sexually active. The hour long make out sessions where I was in total control were the best. If I was feeling especially turned on and generous, I would rub a guy's penis through his pants until he came in his tighty whities. It was such a wonderful feeling of power. The boy would want it so bad, but after he came he was like a helpless puppy. The incessant urge was gone, and he had now had a huge wet spot showing through his jeans."

"You must have been like the devil sent in an angel's body."

"Oh, you have no idea. After that first orgasm, I pretty much had my way. I could perform miracles with just my hands and my clothes still on. It didn't take much to get a boy's pants off and then I could bring his poor little limp thing back to life. But I never gave head - just a hand job. I became a bit of an expert at keeping a guy on the edge of orgasm but not letting him come. I would play with his balls, cupping and tugging and when I knew he was going to come, I'd squeeze the head of his penis really hard and stop it. I could do this over and over. It would drive them crazy wild."

"And did you always finish them off?"

"Not always. I would love to leave them begging, and I do mean begging. I'd just go home and fantasize about college men and give myself an orgasm in the privacy of my bedroom."

"Wow. I think I owe it to the boys in your past to give you a large dose of your own medicine."

"That's what you think?" I asked coyly.

He laughed. "Things are different now that I'm a lot older. The intense urgency is gone. The pleasure for me is in pleasing, taking a woman on a journey, awakening the senses, focusing sexual energy. I especially enjoy the role of teacher."

"Teacher? You're not a teacher."

"What I mean is one on one time. Such as I am the teacher and your are the student. Showing you avenues of pleasure you may have not explored."

"Oh, I don't think that's possible. I'm at that age where I've tried just about everything at least twice." I thought I was being truthful.

"That's where I'm going - the 'just about' but not everything."

"I'm not sure where you going with this," I asked cautiously.

"Maybe a little somewhere we haven't gone before. I'm going to be frank and this won't sound very sexy, but here goes. How do you fell about anal pleasure."

"Well... I'm not morally apposed to it. I just don't think it's for me. I've never used the word anal and pleasure in the same sentence."

"I'll bet you think of your anus as maybe a dirty part of your body - a functional apparatus for eliminating waste."

"Well maybe that's a little much. I mean, I've let a few guys try to, you know, do me back there, but it really hurt and I never went through with it."

"Do you trust me?" he asked me sincerely.

"Of course I do, but I'm a little concerned about where we're heading with this."

"I want you to trust me to teach you some things about yourself that you have been ignoring."

"I think we are talking about playing with my butt, right?"

"Let's just say that there are lots of things going on down there, some of which you are very familiar with, and some which you are not. There are millions of nerve endings and you've learned to derive pleasure from some of them while others are neglected."

"You're going to pester me until I give in to whatever you want to do with me. Am I right?"

"Well....yes," he admitted. "I'd rather you think of it as an intimate journey with someone who loves you very much."

"I love you too, John."

"It's settled then. You are mine all day Saturday, agreed?"

This was a little power exchange game we played. We sometime took turns 'being in charge' and the other had to submit to whatever the other wanted. This had been pretty tame up to this point and the farthest it had been taken was to light restraint. And that was my doing. I tied him to the bed posts while giving him a blow job. But this time it seemed a bit different. I was clearly moving out of my comfort zone. But John was an amazing lover and I did trust him. I stopped over-thinking it and replied "I'm all yours."

I had a busy week so I didn't really dwell on Saturday until our dinner Friday night. John never brought it up but I could tell he was in an erotic mood. Clearly he had been thinking about it. We went to my place and had a night cap and he made love to me in the most conventional and tender way, taking me missionary position, and supporting himself gently he worked the base of his penis against my clitoris until I came. He was very good at control and I hugged him hard as his climax came seconds later leaving him panting. After a bit of cuddling, he got up and dressed and tucked me in. "See you at my place at eight," he said kissing my cheek.

*****************

Saturday morning I showered thoroughly and washed my hair. I blew my hair dry and simply put it back into a ponytail. I decided against makeup but spritzed on some citrus cologne. I put on a light summer shift and some frilly panties, but I dispensed with a bra and found some light sandals. It was going to be a warm day. I arrived at John's almost on time but found the front door locked. I had a key but decided to knock instead. He opened the door and he greeted me wearing a some sort of white gown-like garment. The house smelled of light incense.

"I guess you can tell I'm a bit into an Eastern theme today. There's a sari for you in the bathroom. You don't wear anything under it. I'm going to lock the front door and disconnect the phone. Meet me on the patio," he said gently.

I hugged him and went into the powder room. The house was darkened with all the curtains drawn and there was a candle going in the bathroom. The sari was a light, sheer shift that just covered my buttocks and as I looked in the mirror, each of my large dark areola showed through very clearly and as I watched myself, my nipples hardened like two small nuts protruding through the silky material. I was not at all self-conscious and pretty proud of what the hours at the gym and pilates had done to restore my body back to some semblance of respectability. I walked out to the patio not sure where the day was going.

John had a small table set up with coffee, juice, fruit and some delicious mini-muffins. His back yard was lush, beautifully landscaped and manicured, and a corner fountain provided a soundscape that was always soothing. Right away I noticed a white tent that was set up on the lawn. It was square and brand new - not a camping tent - but more like a small room for a gathering. "What's that?" I asked.

John leaned over the table and kissed me on the lips. I felt my nipples tighten as his tongue gently ran over the edges of my lips. He said nothing and just smiled at me. We spoke very little over breakfast and he stood and motioned me to follow him to the tent. When I stepped inside, it was beautiful. The sunlight was subdued by the fabric, but it was bright and cheery. There were pillows on the floor, a potted palm in the corner, and a massage table that was covered with rose petals. He had a small table set up with massage oils, a body brush, and a stack of hand towels.

He turned to me and pressed his hands together and uttered "Namaste," as he bowed slightly. "Today's lesson will focus on Eastern philosophy. Tantra is perhaps the best word for our journey today. We will only focus bliss and exploration. My energy is yours to keep. Take it and enjoy."

I suppressed a laugh, as he sometimes was so serious when he was doing one of his "themes". He came over to me and reaching down, lifted my sari off and over my head. I stood before him completely naked. He too, removed his garb and he embraced me gently but firmly until I realized we were breathing in unison, our naked bodies molded together. I could feel him becoming erect, but before things progressed any further, he released me and motioned for me to lay face down on the table. I snuggled into the cool sheet and inhaled the smell of the rose petals I was crushing. There was a hint of a breeze and the air wafting over my naked back felt heavenly. John took the soft bristled brush and starting at my feet gently brushed my skin towards the center of my back. With each stroke I felt goose bumps as the gentle brushing excited my skin.

I felt hot oil being applied to the small of my back which was the start of a heavenly massage that eventually worked my feet, legs and arms. Then there was a long while spent on my neck and back. There was nothing sexual about the massage, but nonetheless, I felt a bit of stirring and I sighed deeply soaking up the goodness and sensuality of it all. I was turned over and the massage continued on the back of my neck and then down my sides and belly. John began to massage my breasts and he began rolling my nipples gently between his fingers. He knew I love to have my nipples stimulated and John took full advantage of that to get me aroused. He gently tugged me down until my bottom was at the end of the massage table and placed my legs on his shoulders. I fully expected him to take me in this position, but instead he began gently tugging on my labia and massaging between my legs. Little by little I felt his fingers enter me until he had several finger inside of me with his thumb gently stimulating my clitoris. I began to breathe deeply as I became aroused.

Just when I was about to come when he gently stopped and turned me over on my tummy lowering my feet to the floor. This had me bent over the end of the table. He tugged my feet farther apart and then he sat on a small stool and used hot oil to massage my buttocks. After a bit he began running a finger from my tailbone over my anus. I could feel it pucker each time his finger passed over, but it felt nice. With his other hand, he gently massaged and worked the inside of my legs with hot oil. He eventually had a couple fingers inside of my vagina and gently worked my G-spot. I was super wet. His other finger began gently circling my anus and I felt him stop for a moment and drizzle hot oil on my hole. I then felt his finger tip open me gently. He went in only a little bit and then withdrew. I tightened at first, then willed myself to relax and enjoy what he was doing. I pushed aside my inhibitions and let my lover have his way. He repeated this over and over, going in a little deeper each time. I felt so vulnerable but at the same time there was something magic about what he was doing. The feelings were intense, but exciting. He slipped his finger out and circled around my anus again. His other thumb started working my clitoris and I began to feel myself breathing heavier. I was nearing climax quickly and I hugged the sides of the table. My legs were beginning to quiver and like a huge sneeze, the orgasm was building to the point of no return. John's finger slipped deeply into my rectum and I cried out, "Oh, god..." The intensity of his finger stretching my bottom drove me over the edge and into a massive rolling orgasm. Over and over I felt my anus and vagina squeezing the fingers he had buried deep into my openings. As I quieted down, he slipped out of me gently and lifted me onto the table and covered me with a sheet. A pillow was slipped under my head and I closed my eyes in post coital bliss.

I was happy to just float on the table and revisit the intensity of my orgasm. I was pleasantly drifting but I felt his presence return to the tent. I was so comfortable and happy lying there in the fetal position. The outdoor sounds and smells were an absolute delight. I heard a bit of moving about and when I opened my eyes, I was stunned to see a bulging black enema bag hanging from a small rope just in front of me. It was dripping with water and an amber hose was dangling from it. I felt a little surge of adrenaline course through my veins but suddenly a rush of memories flooded into my head. I was taken back to childhood, a little girl over my mother's lap, an enema bag hanging in view. The smell of Ponds cold cream being used to lubricated the nozzle before she put in my bottom. The soothing words she said over me as she poked the nozzle in while I protested loudly, "No, Mom. Please. I'm not really sick." She held me firmly in place and separated my checks pushing the cool nozzle into place. The feeling was intense, yet it somehow titillated me. I didn't hate it as much as made out. The water would fill me and then I would go and poop for a very long time. I hadn't thought about this for a long long time.

I jumped a bit as John put his hand on my shoulder and bent down and kissed my cheek. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for what was coming. Instead of Ponds, the odor of KY jelly wafted into my nose and I knew he must be lubricating the nozzle. A moment later I felt the sheet being folded back, my buttock being lifted and the nozzle tip penetrating my anus. As pressure was applied the nozzle felt larger and larger. It was right at the very edge of being painful, but then it just slipped into me. Then something unexpected happened. I felt the thing expanding inside of me. It was the strangest feeling. Almost as if a tennis ball was growing inside my rectum. The feeling was not unpleasant, it was a huge feeling of fullness that felt ... well... naughty. Then I felt a bulge between my cheeks and as it grew it tugged on the tennis ball inside of me. John picked me up and placed me on my back with my knees bent. I looked into his eyes and he bent down and kissed me on the lips. Instinctively, I put my arm around his neck and pulled him into me. Our kiss was long and deep.

As our lips parted, John reached over and clicked a clamp on the long amber hose. The enema bag my mother used was red. John's black bag was very masculine and sexy looking. I soon felt the warm water enter me and I was again taken back to the memories of my mother. "No Mama, I'm too full." "Just a little more, honey." "No Mama, please stop." The memory of getting an enema is one you never forget. It is a unique blend of sights, sounds, smells, and feelings at the same time sexual and uncomfortable. John was hovering over me and had warm oil on my belly working it in a circular motion. There were small cramps the came and went, but he seemed to sense them as his fingers massaged the spots and they soon dissipated and I felt the water surge deeper inside of me. I watched the black bag as it deflated but before it was empty I had reached my limit.

"John," I said somewhat urgently.

Reading my mind, he snapped shut the valve and quickly helped me off the table. I expected him to remove the nozzle but instead he took the bag from it's hanger and quickly walked me inside to the bathroom, tube trailing behind me, and the odd sensation of the slippery bulge between my cheeks. Each step it tugged in my anus and focused all my thoughts on my anus. He quickly hung the enema bag on a hook on the door and had me step over the tube and sit on the toilet. His hand was between my legs and he maneuvered two black bulbs up from between them. I felt as if I were going to burst and as I watched, he twisted a knob on one of the black bulbs and I felt the tennis ball in my bottom deflate. Uncontrollably, my body pooped out the nozzle and a torrent of water burst from me. I was too relieved to be embarrassed but John kissed me on the forhead and hung the nozzle device on the hook with the bag.

For a few minutes my body purged the water from my colon along with an amazing amount of poop. Wave after wave would come. About the time I thought I was done, another wave would shoot out of me. The relief was fantastic. I had that sense of accomplishment you feel after a particularly successful morning bowel movement. As the expulsions quieted down, I looked up and studied the apparatus John had used on me. I stood up briefly and squeezed one of the black bulbs and the bulge on the nozzle got larger. Ah... two balloons. Clever.

I flushed for the final time and washed my hands. John was waiting for me in the kitchen with a glass of cool lemonade. "It would be best if we repeated the enema," he said hugging our naked bodies together. He walked me back to the tent and a different enema bag was hanging from the rope This one was larger and I noticed a very large black nozzle lying on the massage table. There was also an assortment of colorful dildos and butt plugs laid out. He had me get up on the table and kneel down with my bottom high in the air and my face on the pillow - an incredibly vulnerable feeling. I allowed him to lubricate my anus with jelly. He now had his finger in me.

"John,darling," I said.

"Yes?"

His finger was still probing my ass, and I have to admit that it felt good, and I said, "All you have done and are planning on doing to me, I am going to do exactly the same to you tonight. Understand?"

There was a long pause.

"Understood," he said as he slowly coated the large black nozzle with lubricant.