Fidel has a date this night. YES, finally: a boy that seems legit¡ Last attempts were failures (2 almost-date with both guys ghosting him), and Tinder hasn’t been successful these past weeks. This time, however, he thinks it’s coming through. Perfect match in the app: they’ve been talking a lot the last couple of days and agreed to meet upon that over-the-top fancy restaurant Fidel wants to try SO bad. It’s going to cost him: the place’s not cheap at all, and high school’s students finances aren’t particularly healthy. Dad is lending him some money to cost both attendant’s menus, but anyway, he’s betting a month’s salary in this romantic encounter. Thing is… he’s pretty nervous¡ And not getting much help from his parents… Dad is supportive, energetic in trying to lift his spirit up, assuring him the date will be a total hit, but Fidel finds his words to be more his desires for him to succeed, but less practical than they should. Truth be told, Dad lacks any genuine experience in this world of flirting: he has always been with Mom. A man for a woman, and that’s it; modern world doesn’t work like that anymore. Mom tells him to show his strengths: his culture, his savoir-fair, his love for arts, cuisine, classic music… Fidel’s not convinced either: modern man wants strong-willed man, and he’s too sensitive¡ Not showing that part of him yet, too much he said in Tinder… So, without any model to follow at home, he resorts once more to her friendliest neighbour, Lorena. Extroverted, open-minded … vulgar, in both dress-code & language, WAY rougher & rude than he is, but also WAY more experienced in dating men. So maybe he’s not that in tone with Lorena’s way of getting those men to her, but Fidel has never gotten through in all his dates beyond a couple of dates and a couple of kisses, and Lorena, PHEW, she has done it many, many times, and until the very end. And the men she gets sure look so manly….

Fidel meets her in the cafeteria, where they exchange their approach to this date: Fidel, dressed with casual, stylish sea blue shirt, pale pink jersey, beige’s trousers (exquisite combination, in his opinion), with a nice, relaxing green tea in hand; Lorena, black shirt & worn out blue jeans, already taking a glass of rum & coke… At 17:00h “To get in the mood” she tells him: Lorena has her own date that night. But her plan is quite different: McDonalds, home (her mother was working out the night), and then… TACA-TÁ. Way cheaper, for sure; “not these snob places you like so much.” Lorena explains the main problem she sees: Fidel looks anything but manly. He needs a new wardrobe, and they’re going to the mall to get it. Fidel’s not a fan of the idea, but Lorena points out the evidence: she gets the job done, he doesn’t. Not much he can refute. Also, he has to be crystal clear about his desire to get s*x… which, is something Fidel is not thinking about: he only had s*x once, and that was a year ago¡ Besides, it’s not what he has in mind, but something more romantic¡ Is he taking this guy to this fashion restaurant to talk about s*x? But… Lorena argues again: he must look in control, he must look like he wants to dominate… and, if the chance comes up, take it¡ Fidel is speechless… but, maybe… she’s right. If she gets what she wants doing so, then… he must try it.

First stop in the mall: the Pharmacy. Fidel enters with Lorena, but he’s puzzled: why are they there? Lorena only tells him to be quiet, then he’ll know. Fidel’s curiosity soon turns into uncertainty once Lorena asks the pharmacist for a couple of Fleet Enemas. He doesn’t want to think that’s for him, but, OH, he’s SURE those are for him¡ How, why? Not what he had in this mind¡ Fidel doesn’t ask until they’re out the place, but he demands to know what Lorena is thinking about. Lore replies: if he ends up getting in the room with the guy he wants, he wants his butt to be clean. And Lorena insist that, with all respect, Fidel is right now too scrawny to ever think he’s the one doing the banging in the 1st date without making it less than memorable, and a sh*tty asshole is the last time the guy moving the dick wants to find out; besides, Fidel confesses he likes very much the last (one & only) time he had s*x… and he was in the receiving end, so it should be fine for him too. Yep: flawless reasoning, nothing Fidel could say about it. Which, once more, makes him wonder how a person that manages so good in the streets is dumb as bricks at school… he’ll never understand. BUT, he understands, Lorena is getting way ahead of him in the step-by-step of planning this date: Fidel doesn’t think ‘bout ending the night in a moment of passion, and he’s not sure he wants to go that fast, but, if her friend, passionate lover where you can find one, says that’s the way to ensure there’s another date, well… He’s… up to it. But Lorena’s not done yet: she tells him to go with her to the bathroom. She means… Is he getting the enemas THERE¡? Oh, nope… He tries to fight the decision back, saying the will use them at home later, which for Lorena is a bad idea: she’s sure he won’t keep them long enough. Oh, so little faith in him¡ Probably… right? Still, better there than here¡ He offers as a 2nd choice Lorena’s home; but she firmly declines: not a chance she is “letting him stink the whole house” when she has a meeting there. Fidel finds that answer both mean & obscene; but gets no chance to reply: Lorena switch her mood from friendly to intimidating and asks him if he trust her to get his date to fruition. He wants, and he does. Besides… who says no when Lorena gets so imposing¡ He hates the idea of getting those enemas, and using the bathroom later, but… no choice, it seems.

Lorena, sly as she usually is, like trying to get in the disco without paying, sneaks Fidel into the disabled bathroom once there’s not people passing close. Once inside, Fidel looks with disgust the bathroom: it’s not dirty, but it’s for sure ugly as a bathroom can be... And he appreciates when rooms are decorated in a way they invite people in. This bathroom? Grey, no light, no style: depressing; clearly asking people out. If he was to decide what bathroom use, even more, in what bathroom get an enema, this one in particular would surely be one of his last options in the planet; unfortunately for him, he’s not to decide that, but Lorena is, and for Lorena, the bathroom, missing big pee puddles, graffiti everywhere, and disgusting smells she’s used when going out in the night, looks great. Fidel tries to regain composure, but can’t lose sight about what’s about to happen, and looks to Lorena with several doubts. She, on the other hand, has none, letting both enema bottles in plain sight for him, before asking him to show her his “cute bootie.” Not convinced, but without much choice, Fidel sights, turns back, embarrassed she could see his penis, and pulls down his pants and underpants to just below his butt: now VERY embarrassed, realizing, indeed, her friend’s about to see his asshole. Lorena, on other hands, thinks nothing ‘bout this embarrassment Fidel lives right now, and, as such, acts like nothing out of the ordinary is happening; gently pushing Fidel over the sink edge. Is it necessary? Fidel, nervous, asks.

Lorena’s patience is running thin by now, and reprimands Fidel for his attitude: he’s a grown man; in her opinion, this drama he’s making about “two little enemas” is uncalled for; she, insists, has also taken enemas when she expects visits in her back yard, and doesn’t whine as much as he’s whining. Without time to answer, an AH… escapes Fidel’s mouth, as soon his buttocks are spread apart and the first enema nozzle, scarce of lube, slides in: THAT he gets to complain about, Lorena replying she indeed lubed it with some saliva. EW…. Fidel says, disgust quickly turning into discomfort as he notices Lorena squeezing the plastic bottle, the transparent liquid flowing inside between his bums. It burns, he wants to use the bathroom, but Fidel decides to man this up, gets some air, and breath deep as Lorena ensures every drop of that awful medicine goes where it must. All of this, for the sake of a successful date, he repeats himself in his mind while more enema passes into him. GRLRLR… It sounds, confirming the bottle contents now lays inside Fidel’s rectum, something he’s aware, very much. One down, one left; Fidel gets informed. He’s much aware. Promptly, Fidel notices the second enema nozzle going in, and, in the same fashion as before, her friend empties the entire enema bottle inside his asshole, until not a trace of enema stays in the plastic. “Not such a big deal,” Lorena says, “some urges to sh*t,” she insists. BUF¡ Fidel is finding Lorena too optimistic¡ Done faster than he thought, but now it’s time to hold it, and that’s the hot part: he doesn’t have “some urges to sh*t,” he really needs the bathroom¡ No wonder she was sure he wouldn’t retain… he feels like he can’t¡ He even ask if it’s “normal” needing the bathroom that bad from the beginning… And doubts about how much he can hold it in: subtle way to tell her to let him sit on the throne, but her friend was aware of that possibility¡

OH…. OH¡ Fidel doesn’t get to complain anymore, the answer he gets instead, this feeling of something big, solid, passing through his asshole once more. Not much lube either¡ What is THAT? No enema¡ Big, hard… UH… Fidel can’t answer; too distracted by those sensations traveling through his asshole... or, too focused? Surely liking it, even forgetting a bit about the enemas. Soon, this widest part pass in entirely, and Fidel feels his asshole has been sealed, but something is still out of him. “There we go” he hears Lorena mutter, satisfied. Now getting back some composure, Fidel questions about what he’s feeling between his ass cheeks: answer? Lorena’s plug¡ She remarks she knows PREEETY well Fidel’s liking it (they both perfectly know each other¡), and, proudly, informs him she DID clean the plug just before going out, ensuring he can’t get “squeamish about cleanliness” in that regard. For Fidel, however, that sounds less clean than she thinks it does: he tries to get on terms with the fact that the toy he just got inserted in his rectum (that, truth be told, is helping him keep the enemas, and, also, feels... good), has ALREADY been in Lorena’s ass. That’s not cleanliness in Fidel’s dictionary¡ Lorena gets Fidel to put his clothes back, and feels excited to go shopping with him the clothes SHE likes; Fidel’s not that sure in his state; her friend insists: some “badass” clothes for him to look manly & handsome for that sweetheart enchant, while “the bleach cleans the garage for when the limousine arrives¡”. Lorena’s comments don’t convince Fidel that much; unsure he can enjoy buying clothes with this incessant urge to relieve himself. He tries, however, considering… if Lorena can, he can too, right?

Lore and Fidel first go to the closest store to the bathroom; a store full of leather, excessive protagonism of dark colours, and too much love for distressed jeans. In perfect tune with Lore’s usual outfits, but awful taste in fashion in the boy’s opinion: a store where Fidel would have never go shopping by himself. Unsure any of those pieces would look good on him, but still willing to give them a chance to bright… If that’s possible considering the gloom style reigning in all of them. Both start taking a look around the aisles: no surprise Lore picked not only clothes for Fidel, but also things she likes for herself; even more than she planned for her friend; Fidel picks nothing at all, only judging what Lorena gets. Besides, he has OTHER stuff to look after, like, how to manage the (soon-to-be toilet) turmoil happening inside him. Lore looks SO unaware; has she forgotten she just gave him an enema? Fidel wonders. Because, as much as he wants to focus on, well, being not that judgemental on this “attire” Lore is working on (only half convinced to wear that night), part of his brain doesn’t let go the clean job happening in his bottom at the same time. Every step, Fidel feels, fist, the plug between his cheeks: although comfortable with it; in fact, he gets used to it quite fast. Secondly, even if he’s proud of the utmost composure he holds, he also notices the Fleets washing off the mud of every corner of his rectum; and third, and worse, for now, he feels he’s a bit under suspicion when someone gets too close to him. So much sometimes he asks Lore a couple of times if he’s being too “showy” to the public, unaware of the situation; for his relief (and pride), Lore confirms he’s acting perfectly normal; the girl, savvy as they come, takes advantage of her friend’s doubts to boost his confidence, trying him to hold the enemas longer than she thinks he’ll do. Fidel, too navy to realize he’s been played, takes the bait, but both know this disposition will last until the enemas get too intense. Of course, Fidel’s subtle complains about needing the restroom become more frequent passing the 5 minutes mark, even if Fidel, much to the girl’s surprise, is not THAT insistent on the topic, effectively trying his best to put all his energy into the buying and not into the shitting. With effort and some encouragement, Fidel keeps winning the battle against his urges, picking clothes they’ll try at home (obviously, he’s not risking some drops leaking into clothes he’s maybe only trying on), but Lore sees the sand-clock slowly filling its lower cavity, a quite realistic metaphor about the state of his friend’s asshole, hiding from him he’s getting more crystalline than he’d probably wanted to about the state of his rectum: Fidel bends his legs a bit, clamps the plug with his cheeks and, now and then, puts his hands on his butt; his occasional moans are getting louder too. The boy manages 10 minutes in the store, but one too many cramps make Fidel say enough is enough and turns to Lore with desperate gesture, urging Lore to buy the stuff and get back into the bathroom; she reluctantly agrees, as she’s peak-choosing the best items in the store, but deep down she admits Fidel has followed his part of the deal and, undeniable, he needs the toilet. The queue is short, but it’s not empty, and the time the couple of clients before them take to pay feels like an eternity to Fidel, feeling more urged than before. Lore hurries the cashier with her usual soft dialectic, and they venture back into the bathroom: Fidel holds himself together the best he can, but he can’t pretend he’s not already in that point where even the plug doesn’t feel bulletproof anymore.

That ugly, grey handicapped bathroom, however, hides a surprise for them: it’s getting cleaned. So, unavailable. Fidel curses louder than it’s usual in him, using every profanity that crosses his mind; Lore, both startled AND proud of his friend’s lash to the universe, takes notes of a couple insults she didn’t know before and adds them to her own repertoire. Fidel looks to her friend in anguish, Lore just smiles and, unashamed, grabs his hand and gets him in the girl’s bathroom. Fidel can’t react in time before he’s inside, but he realizes, in that point, he just doesn’t care too much. This bathroom looks much well taken care of than the handicapped one: modern taps, pale pink giving life to walls and doors, even a couple of big windows on the side; focusing on Fidel’s needs: one stall occupied, one girl fixing her make-up, three free stalls at their disposal; Lore picks the last one, and Fidel follows through. While Lore latches the door, Fidel questions why the girl hasn’t said anything about him invading the ladies’, Lore replying Fidel looks gay enough to use their bathroom without being weird; obviously Fidel finds the comment quite inappropriate, even if he knows Lorena just doesn’t understand the connotations of her comments… and he also prefers to use that bathroom instead of the gentlemen’s. Beige pants and pink underwear down to just before knees (Fidel got time to at least worry about not showing again his penis), Lore turns to him to give him some conversation, while Fidel, making an otherworldly effort to clench tight, returns the plug to her owner, less dirtied than she expected, covered in tons of tissues; Fidel finds it super gross, Lore says nothing ‘bout it beyond needing a some soap for it when they’re out of the stall. Once more, surprised by her friend’s boldness: EW. With no more to add to the topic and without the plug to stop the mess cooked inside Fidel’s pot, it’s time to serve: Fidel relaxes, Lorena seeing, HD detail, all his friend’s body let the pressure go away; his sweaty, red face expressing crystal clear how relieved he’s about to feel: immediately, joining the picturesque scene drawing in Fidel’s semblance, the thunderous roar of this muddy waterfall, born from the boy’s hidden grotto, breaking into the still water below him, echoing on the wooden walls of the stall, a natural orchestra with protagonism of both percussion… and wind, much to Fidel’s shame once their performance peaks. The boy is extremely relieved, glad to explode in the throne, but knows, too, his ass is being so boisterous, both the girl in the stall and the one fixing her make-up are catching with detail every note of this improvised concerto; Lorena his most privileged spectator, giggles, amused, but also MUCH satisfied with the results: Fleet enemas never fails Lore when an ass has to get thorough pristine. “Unpolluted” she tells Fidel; “ready for a wild ride” she insists. No doubt, Fidel thinks. Ensuring he gets the entire enema and all that followed out, Fidel and Lore discuss the possible outfit while some more wet bubbles escape Fidel’ butthole; then, time to wipe the residue, and… UF, get some air… The aftermath is heavy dense¡ Hands washed up and, 10 tons lighter, more stores awaiting.

Much effort Fidel invests; for little reward: he gets a bit of a bitter end when the date he planned doesn’t end as well as planned. Looking way too “macho” for his own sake, forcing a façade too rude and insensitive, much thinking made with the penis and scarce with the mind, an out-of-character performance that looks forced upon, ending up disappointing a promising date guy because he expected to find the calm, cultured boy he talked online. So, once more, empty handed, this time because he tried a suit that, ironically, doesn’t suit him¡ Clear for Fidel… Never try to look like someone you’re not.