I was in the last stages of the drying routine with a chamois, when Marty came riding back, a bag full of books strapped on to her back. She was perspiring a bit from her ride, and because of this, looked particularly desirable. I wondered what it would be like to make love with her. Hell, I wondered what it would be like to make love to ANY girl. That was an experience I had not yet enjoyed. I'd had a couple of girlfriends in school, and the most I had done with them was kissing and petting and at 18 was ready to go farther. The only female naked bodies I had ever seen were in men's magazines a buddy of mine had stolen from his older brother. Anyway, I was just finishing up my dad's car when Marty got back. "How industrious of you." she said. "I'm sure Steve will appreciate it." "I promised him I'd do it." I lied. "Well, How about some lunch?" Marty suggested. "I thought we'd drive down to the mall and get something there...On me." "Sure!" I said. "Lemmie change into something that's not wet." "Okay." she said, "I gotta go to the bathroom, anyway."

As I changed, I mentally patted myself on the back for having cleaned up my mess in the bathroom. We put the top down on the Mustang, and started the en-minute drive to the mall. I switched the radio from Dad's jazz station to my favorite, which played oldies rock. Pink Floyd was being played. "You feeling OK?" Marty asked. "Great!" I answered, "Why?" "You gave yourself an enema this morning, didn't you?" I blushed. "What makes you think that?" "Never mind what, I just know you did." "I..." "Look," Marty interrupted, "If you felt you needed an enema, you should have told me; there may be something wrong with you. On the other hand, If you did it for the enjoyment, that's fine. That's your business." I could feel my face getting redder. "Um...I...um...didn't need it." "Wow!" she beamed. "Was it good?" I began recovering from my embarrassment. "It was okay." "You don't need to be embarrassed, you know;" Marty said, adding: "When I do my weekly enemas, I enjoy myself in other ways." I almost ran through a red light when I heard that.

The tires squealed a bit as I stood on the brake pedal. Marty didn't bat an eye. "Maybe we should continue this conversation after we get out of the car." As we walked from the car towards the mall's food court, the conversation resumed. "Really, Kyle... I don't know why you're so uptight about this;" said Marty, in a matter-of-fact tone, "After all, I was your nurse and I saw your body. And in a couple of days, you'll be my nurse, and you'll see mine." "It's just that this is...so..." I stammered. "So new?" Marty interrupted. "That's it." I said. "What about girl friends? Haven't you seen them?" "Um, actually, no." I blushed. "You mean you've never made love?" Asked Marty, amazed. "I... I mean we.... Just, like kissed and petted, but..." I trailed off. "Gee," said Marty, "You have led a sheltered life for 18 years old." She reflected a bit, then her eyes twinkled. "I guess it's time you had some summer school."

"Summer school?" I asked. "What do you mean?" "You'll see." she said with finality, then changed the subject to some thing inane and banal. We ate at the food court, Marty wolfing down a chicken sandwich and me a 'rider'. Then we went window-shopping. At one point, we stopped in at a bookstore and I went to the section that had computer manuals. I lost sight of Marty until I saw her at the cashier as she completed a transaction. The clerk handed her a paper sack. We walked back into the concourse and approached an arcade. "Why don't you play a couple of games here?" said Marty, "I need to go get something else." She added: “I'll be back in a few minutes.” I shrugged my shoulders. "Okay." I was lost in one of the race-car games when Marty reappeared, watching me finish first against Enzo Ferrari. As we walked back out to the car, I noticed she had another parcel beside her bookstore purchase. The new bag was emblazoned with the "Frederick's" logo. My curiosity was aroused, but I said nothing. The drive back home was mostly silent, with occasional small talk and vague plans about a bike trip. We got back to the house and I put Dad's car back in the garage.

Marty stopped me as I approached the stairs towards my room. She proffered the package she had acquired at the bookstore. "Remember I said something about summer school?" She asked. I nodded. "Here. This is your text book." Then, with authority: "Read it." Before I had a chance to extract the contents of the bag, she was up the stairs, and I heard her bedroom door close. I pulled a paperback book out. The bright red cover read: "SEX EDUCATION II: What they didn't teach you in school." Awe-stricken, I climbed the stairs and went in my room. I lay on the bed and began reading. The book held me rapt as I learned about foreplay techniques; questions were answered about erogenous zones; new terms came to light, such as 'Grafenberg spot', 'prostate massage' and 'clitoral stimulation'. The book referred to hands, fingers, lips and tongues as "alternate sex organs", and explained how to make effective use of them as such. There were pictures depicting a variety of sexual positions I had never envisioned. As my eyes and mind were firmly held by the book's content, my penis reacted in a predictable manner, and though I didn't touch myself, I did feel a slight wetness issuing from it. My eyes had raced from page to page, devouring the information and pictures hungrily, and I lost track of time. By the time I put the book down, it was dark out, and I felt a pang of hunger. I went downstairs to find Marty lying on the couch in front of the TV. She was sipping some wine. Hearing me come, she looked towards me.

"Um...I thought I'd fix some instant noodles. You want some?" I asked. "That would be nice." was Marty's reply. I went into the kitchen and started on my task, putting water on to boil and retrieving two packs of noodles. I hadn't asked Marty what flavor she preferred, so I peeked back in to the den. "What...?" But she wasn't there. I figured she'd probably gone to the bathroom. "Oh, well," I thought, "I'll fix pork flavor, that's what she had the other night." As I was on the verge of tossing the dry noodles into the seething water, I heard her voice. "Never mind the noodles." I turned to see that she had gone and changed. Marty now wore an ankle-length white satin peignoir belted at the waist. It was cut with a deep cleavage, and I saw some lace peeking from the top, accentuating the cleft between her breasts. "You were in your room for a long time." she remarked, "Did you read the book I bought for you?" "Yeah...Most of it." I said. "Well, let's talk about it... Go sit down and I'll pour you some wine." "Wine? I... Uh..." "A glass or two won't hurt you; and if you don't tell, I won't either." Marty had a playful twinkle in her eye. The wine glass she handed me held a pink liquid. The label on the bottle had said 'White Zinfandel' and I wondered where they got the 'white' part. Marty took me by the hand and led me to the couch, indicating that I should sit next to her As she sat, she crossed her legs and the opening of her peignoir slipped, revealing more of her firm milky thighs than I had ever seen. She raised her glass. "Here's to learning." "To learning." I said, and our glasses touched before we both took a sip. The wine had a strange but nice flavor. Not bad for my first taste.

"So tell me," said Marty, "Did you find the book interesting?" "Um... Well, yes." I stammered. I couldn't take my eyes off her thigh or her deep cleavage. Marty reminded me of the models I had seen in men's magazines. "What did you find most interesting?" "Um... I think it was the part about foreplay." I said, warming up to the subject. "I guess that's all I ever did with girlfriends, but never got very far." "That's probably the most important part about enjoying a good session of sex." said Marty. "You have to make sure your partner is physically ready for penetration." "That's what the book said." I agreed. "Tell me: what else did you find interesting?" she asked. "Well there was a part where it refers to lips, tongue, and fingers as important sexual organs." "True," said Marty. Then she reflected for a few seconds, sipping her wine. I did likewise. "But," she said, "do you know which is the most important sex organ?" "Um..." "Right here!" she said, reaching and tapping my forehead. "I... I guess you're right..." I said, "If you don't have the right thoughts or the right mood..." "Exactly!" Marty said, taking another sip. Then, glancing down at my crotch, "It looks like you're in the right mood. That's when I became fully aware of the fact that I was erect under my shorts. I blushed deeply, and Marty laughed. Then she put on her serious face. "I don't want to wait for my enema. I want it tonight. Now." "Now? Um..." I stammered. Marty got up and grabbed my free hand. "C'mon..."

I got up and Marty led me to my folks' bathroom, downstairs, adjacent to their bedroom. A towel was already spread on the floor, and Marty's bag hung on the shower bar, ready to be filled. A squeeze bottle labeled 'peppermint soap' sat on the vanity, beside a tube of lubricating jelly. There were a couple of pairs of latex gloves there as well. Marty reached for the enema bag and handed it to me. "Here… Fill it up." she ordered. I complied, running the bathtub spigot until the temperature was warm. Then I filled the bag. Before I put the stopper on, Marty took it and squeezed the soap dispenser one time, into the mouth of the bag. Then the stopper went on, and Marty shook the bag. Then she hung it on a towel bar which was about four feet off the floor. As I stood and watched Marty took off and hung up the peignoir she had worn, revealing a short lacy nightgown, which went just low enough to cover her crotch. Then she got down on her knees on the towel and bent down, resting her head on another, which was rolled up. "Okay, Kyle. I'm ready." "Um..." "First, you lubricate. Don't forget gloves." she indicated. I clumsily donned a pair of the tight rubber gloves, and then squeezed a dollop of jelly on my finger. Marty reached back and held her butt cheeks apart, exposing her anus. Her hirsute vulva peeked from below. I got down on my knees and gingerly touched Marty's back hole. She gave a slight gasp. Then I saw that she was bearing down. "Go ahead... don't be shy." she said. My finger slipped into her warm rectum easily. She sighed, and I felt her muscles flex around my finger. I slowly moved in and out, twisting a bit, as Marty had done with me. "Mmm... that's nice..." she moaned. Then: "Okay. Now the nozzle...." I reached for the nozzle and squeezed some lubricant on it, spreading with my finger. I then brought it to bear at her anus. Once more, Marty bore down, and the nozzle slipped in without a problem. "Deeper." she said. I complied, leaving only the hose exposed. "Mmmmm...." Marty moaned softly. "Now turn the water on, but not all the way." I adjusted the clamp to the half-way position. A few seconds passed, and then Marty gave out a soft gasp, then another low moan. I feasted my eyes on the figure of Marty as she lay there on the floor, ass-high, with a look of rapture on her face. My erection became more intense and I thought about rubbing myself, but chose not to. As if reading my mind, Marty reached under herself and began fingering her vagina. I surmised that she was playing with her clitoris, which I had only recently read about in the 'textbook' which Marty had bought for me. As she lay there fingering herself, Marty began a slow undulating movement with her hips, murmuring 'Ooohs', 'Aaahs' and 'Mmms'. I could see her finger getting wetter and wetter as her vagina secreted her juices on to it.

The enema bag soon began to show signs of collapse as the hot soapy fluid continued in its course into Marty's beautiful back hole. As the seconds passed, her movements and uttering gained in intensity, becoming, appropriately, more spasmodic and audible. Marty's fingers moved faster and faster as they catered to the need which her now clearly visible clitoris expressed. I unconsciously pressed against my clothing-confined penis, as the excitement within me intensified. Before either one of us knew it, the bag hung limp and empty, from the towel bar which supported it, and Marty let out a deep animal growl as her entire body stiffened in to a final spasm of lust. Then I saw her slowly relaxing as all tension began disappearing from her statuesque body. I was at a loss as to what to do then, but Marty came to the rescue. "Pull it out, Kyle." she said. I gently retracted the dripping nozzle. "Help me up."

As Marty straightened, back on her knees, I placed a hand under one elbow and provided balance and support as she stood up. "Okay... I'm gonna use the toilet now." said Marty; "Why don't you go in the other room and wait? I'll call you back in a few minutes." "Okay..." I muttered, and stepped back into my folks' bedroom. I sat on the bed and used the remote to quietly channel surf on the T.V. which hung on the wall opposite the bed. Roughly fifteen minutes had passed when I heard water running in the shower next door.