I was on a flight from Chicago to London about six years ago when I ran into a woman I had met about twenty-five years prior. At that time we were both married and, although very attracted to each other, knew that nothing could come of our mutual attraction, so we went our separate ways. On the London flight, we exchanged pleasantries, caught up on old times, and again went our separate ways – both single again but seeing others.

Fast forward to about six months ago when she contacted me on a social network we both belong to, and we reestablished our friendship. Lots of emails, Skype calls, but with me being in France on my boat, and her...elsewhere.

Finally, I invited her to come to France for a visit, which she accepted.

She arrived on a Friday where I picked her up at the train station after her ride from Paris. Tired and worn out from a long flight and train ride we simply renewed old times and she went to bed – in her private cabin.

Saturday arrived and I got up early, went to the patisserie and bought some freshly baked bread and a couple of almond croissants for breakfast. When she awoke, fresh and refreshed, we...well, we pretty much made up for thirty years of lost time.

By the time Monday rolled around, along with our “renewed” acquaintance and some sightseeing, I could see that she was a bit troubled by something. When I questioned her, she said that everything was wonderful, but she was having some “tummy” problems. The food here, to me, is bland no matter what anyone wants to say about French food. So when I asked her if she thought it was something she ate, she replied, “No, I get constipated sometimes when I travel through multiple time zones.”

She said that she normally ate high fiber bars of one sort or another and that normally took care of it in a day or two, but she had been eating those bars (unbeknownst to me) since she had arrived and no results.

So, out of the blue I asked her if she had ever tried an enema.

She told me she had never had one and asked me about my knowing about them. I simply told her the truth. The truth being that I had been taking enemas for many years and found them both therapeutic and sensual. I then asked her if she would like to have an enema. Hesitantly, she said yes.

We went to my cabin where I laid a large, fluffy, white bath towel on my bed and then I slowly undressed her, kissing her, telling her in gentle ways exactly what I was going to do to her.

...and, that was how it started.

She, hesitant, scared, not knowing exactly what was happening. Me, excited and so wanting this woman to have a wonderful enema experience.

All I have on the boat is a two-quart bag, but it was more than adequate for the job. It took her three attempts to get through the first bag. The second bag was taken whole. After the experience she claimed that she loved it and felt very relieved of her constipation “problem.” I told her that enemas were a very individual thing and that I did not expect her to like them and that I would never propose another to her unless she asked first.

Sure enough, on Wednesday morning, she asked if she could have another enema. She said that the first made her feel wonderful and that the thought of me giving her one excited her like she hadn't been excited in years.

Again, back to my cabin where I went through the ritual, slowly, patiently, but this time with her knowing what she was about to experience. Half way through the first bag she experienced cramps, as before, but this time I spread her legs as I turned off the flow and an started to feast on her beautifully, newly waxed pussy. With her mind off the cramps I allowed the flow to continue and soon the bag was empty and she laid there exhausted from what she described as, “the most intense orgasm I have ever had.”

The second bag was administered in the same loving manner.

On Friday, she again came to me. “I want you to give me another enema. I want three bags and I want you to do the same things to me that you did before. ...and, then, I am going to do them to you.”

Well, you can imagine my joy. Not only had I succeeded in creating an enema enthusiast but one who was more than willing to reciprocate. Life doesn't get much better.

She had to leave on Saturday to return to the USA. I drove her to catch the train to Paris and CDG.

She will be back.