Have you ever had one of those days when you wanted something so badly you would do almost anything to get it?
Such was the case with me last week. I had been on an extended break from my regular enema routine for a number of reasons. Hubby’s retirement and us setting new routines and the fact that I have been really busy in my freelance job. Both circumstances have conspired to cause me to miss my weekly date with my enema bag and that special “me” time that comes with it. Don’t get me wrong, having hubby around almost everyday is fun, but also having those times when I’m alone are equally valuable.
Last Wednesday, I could see an opportunity coming my way to enjoy some time alone with my enema bag. Hubby was going to play golf with our neighbor and I knew that meant he’d be away for six hours (they love to hang out at the 19th Hole afterwards). But, the fly in the ointment was a client meeting I had that was scheduled to coincide with hubby’s tee time.
I got dressed in my “dress to Impress” wardrobe and scurried across town to meet my client. As luck would have it, everyone was running on time and the meeting started promptly. After my presentation, there were some minor changes needed, but nothing that took an inordinate amount of time. As the meeting ended and I walked out the door visions of me enjoying a nice warm enema danced through my head. My pace quickened as I headed for the car, my heels clicking on the scorching hot pavement.
My trip across town typically takes twenty minutes, traffic permitting. Today was not to be typical. It seems that I missed the local traffic report of a massive accident on the interstate (that’s what I get for listening to Sirius/XM). A sea of brake lights greeted me as I rounded a slight curve on the highway. The red stream seemingly stretched for miles. Visions of the “me” time I so desperately craved began to evaporate before my very eyes. This situation called for creativity!
As I navigated across four lanes of traffic, I made my way to an exit and followed an alternate and decidedly longer route home. Total travel time across town? Fifty minutes.
When I finally opened the door and entered the cool confines of our house, I grabbed the canister of baking soda from the kitchen cabinet and headed to our master bathroom and the anticipation of a long awaited enema. I think the only time I undressed this fast was on our honeymoon (and I had help, then)! It seemed to take forever for the water to warm up. When it did hit the perfect temperature, into the bag it went along with my measured amount of baking soda.
Now on the bathroom floor in my nest of snuggly towels, I lubed my KGL-1 silicone nozzle and pressed it against my rosebud. It magically opened as the slick nozzle disappeared into my rectum. Then the click of the clamp as the warm enema solution began its invasion of my colon. Immediately, the goosebumps appeared on my arms, the hair standing on my neck as the sheer delight of reaching the promised land of enema bliss flooded my being. The enema session I so wanted was finally at hand.
As the third and final enema coursed its way through my bowels with my Model B nozzle firmly implanted in my rectum, wave after wave of orgasmic sensations reached from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I was lost in another world where every nerve ending was alive and delivering pleasure.
Once everything had subsided and I had managed to return to earth, I cleaned up the equipment and put it away, got dressed in some cute shorts with a matching top and strappy sandals and headed to the kitchen and a glass of wine to await hubby’s return.
When he came in the door, completely drenched in sweat after a long afternoon on the golf course, he remarked about how refreshed I looked. I took the compliment and suggested he grab a shower and then we’d decide about dinner. As he left the room, I enjoyed a knowing grin as I remembered the refreshing therapy of a little “me” time coupled with a series of delightful enemas.
Wonder when his next golf date is?