Marty and I proceeded to the mall, to buy a gift for Eileen. One of the

jewelry stores had exactly what I had in mind: a gold Irish "Claddach"

ring, a traditional emblem of love and friendship. Eileen had looked at

it with me, and had expressed a desire for it, but until this day, I

hadn't been able to afford it. It was easy to determine Eileen's ring

size, as I wore one of hers on my left pinkie. It was about noon when we

finally arrived at Miss Adamson's condo.

Eileen greeted us at the door, and I had wondered at the look she gave

Marty. I realized then that I had only told her that I was bringing my

aunt along. I guess she was taken a bit aback by Marty's apparent youth.

"Hi, Sweetie!" I said, "Happy Birthday!" I took Eileen into my arms and

hugged. I detected a bit of stiffness on her part.

"Hi..." she replied, "...This must be your aunt Martha?"

"Call me Marty." Marty said, blushing slightly.

The condo was quite a place, with three bedrooms and a large open

rooftop deck terrace complete with a Jacuzzi hot tub.

Miss Adamson was at the terrace, lighting a barbecue, when we arrived. I

went out to greet her.

"Hi, Miss Adamson!" I said, "Having a nice vacation?"

"Hello, Kyle..." she replied, "Yes, I'm getting in my much-deserved 'R

and R'..." Then she saw Marty. "This must be your aunt..."

Marty interrupted: "Just call me Marty... The mention of the word 'aunt'

simply chills me."

We all laughed. Then Miss Adamson held her hand out to Marty. "Call me

Glory."

"Nice to finally meet you, Glory..." said Marty, their hands clasped a

bit longer than normal. ”I've heard nice things about you."

Glory looked over to me. "What have you been telling your aunt...

er...Marty about me?"

"Like she said," I replied, "nice things."

"I hope they're the truth." Glory remarked. Then: "Eileen, why don't you

show Marty to her room? Kyle, you get the couch."

I piped up: "We left a couple of totes in the car..." then I remembered.

"Jeez! Eileen, I got a NEW CAR!"

"Huh?" was the word from Eileen.

"C'mon..." I said, "We'll go down and get the bags."

"Don't be too long..." said Glory, "The chicken will be ready in about

fifteen minutes."

Eileen and I took the elevator down, and I told her of my folks' phone

call, and about the delivery of the Explorer. When we got to the car,

Eileen showed due awe, but seemed a bit distant. I reached for her and

moved to kiss her. She turned away.

"Don't..." she said.

"What's the matter?" I queried.

"Um... Nothing. I just don't feel like kissing right now."

I studied her for a minute. She gave me a sad look.

"What's the matter?" I asked again.

"I... It's just... Um... Never mind. I don't feel like talking about it."

"Ok," I said, "Fine." then I added: "Happy Birthday."

I took both Marty's bag and mine out of the car, and we ascended back up

to the penthouse.

Glory served up some delicious barbecued chicken and all the trimmings.

She and Marty ate heartily, but Eileen and I barely nibbled at the meal.

After a particularly long lull in the conversation, Glory spoke up.

"All right, you two... What's going on?"

I looked over at Eileen, who turned to face the ocean. Then I spoke.

"I wish I knew." I said, "It seems that Eileen has a problem she won't

talk about."

Eileen stood and faced us, red-eyed.

"I don't have a problem!" she said, almost shouting. "It's just..."

She cut herself short, and stormed to her bedroom, closing the door

behind her.

Glory, Marty and I sat there, dumbfounded, for a minute. Then Glory

piped up.

"Let me see if she'll talk to Me." she stood up and went to the Eileen's

bedroom door.

"Eileen?" she knocked softly, "Can I come in?" A bit of time passed.

"I'm coming in, Sweetie." she said then entered, softly closing the door

behind her.

"I tried to kiss her downstairs, and she got like real cold with me." I

said to Marty.

"I have a feeling I know what's going on." She remarked.

"What?"

"I think she's jealous of me."

"You really think so?" I said, "How..."

"Have you seen the looks she's been giving me?" She's been throwing

daggers with her eyes since we got here."

"But how... Why..." I stammered.

"She obviously knows about us." She said, "I don't know how, but

sometimes we get these feelings about people, you know?"

“Well, I said, “what can I do about it? The last thing on my mind is

hurting her.”

“Well, you have, even if you didn’t mean to.” said Marty. “I think the

best way to solve this problem is by open communication.” She then said:

“let’s see what Glory has to say after she talks with Eileen.

I sat there, staring at nothing, while Marty went out to the terrace and

leaned on the rail, enjoying a soft breeze. I don’t know how long I sat

there before Miss Adamson came out from the bedroom. Marty saw her and

joined us.

“Kyle, Eileen is very upset with you. The question is: Is she justified

in being so?”

I squirmed a bit, and mumbled: “I guess I am.”

This is when Marty joined in the conversation. “Glory, I’m just as

guilty as, if not more guilty than, Kyle.

“Can you explain?” queried Miss Adamson.

Marty began: “It started the second day I was in town. Kyle was severely

constipated, so I decided to administer an enema…” …And so went the

story, with Marty and I taking turns, leading to the point when Eileen

had stormed out from the dinner table.

“So, to sum it up,” remarked Miss Adamson, “this has been a crash course

in advanced sex education.”

“That’s the way I see it.” said Marty.

“I think there’s a solution to this quandary…” said Miss Adamson, after

mulling over what Marty and I had told her.

She then got up and went back into the bedroom. She was there about two

minutes, and then she came back out this time Eileen followed her. Miss

Adamson and Eileen sat on a couch, across a coffee table from Marty and

me, who sat in matching arm chairs.

Miss Adamson started: “Do we all know the meaning of the word

‘allocution’?”

Marty nodded.

I said: “Isn’t it kinda like a formal public confession?”

“That’s a fairly accurate definition.” said Miss Adamson. “What I want

you to do, Kyle, is to allocute to Eileen what you told me a few minutes

ago. Can you do that?”

I hesitated, then stood, and then began, once again, relating the events

of the last few days. I finished after a few minutes, completing my

statement with the following: “Eileen, I really love you, and hurting

you was…is… the last thing on my mind. I hope you find it in your heart

to forgive me.”

Tears welled, once more, in Eileen’s eyes. “How could…”

“Eileen!” said Miss Adamson. “Don’t you think you have some allocuting

to do yourself?”

“What… You mean… what you and I…” stammered Eileen. Miss Adamson nodded.

“I don’t see why…” Eileen started

“I do.” Miss Adamson interrupted. “I think it would be better if you

tell him, but if you don’t want to, I will.”

“Um… Okay.” Eileen conceded. “Where should I start?”

“Why don’t you start when you and I had that little conversation at the

school library?”

And so, Eileen told the story of her relationship with Miss Adamson, and

of how she had learned of the pleasures of giving and receiving enemas,

and of how she learned to give and receive sexual pleasure with a

partner. After she got done, she sat silent, eyes downcast.

Miss Adamson spoke next: “I think you two should kiss and make up, given

the circumstances. Don’t you agree, Marty?”

“Absolutely!” said Marty.

Miss Adamson spoke again: “Marty, why don’t you and I go out for a walk

on the beach. We’ll leave these two alone to hash it out.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Glory.” Said Marty, then to me and

Eileen: “Guys, we’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Then, they were gone.

I sat there and waited for Eileen to speak.

She fidgeted for a half minute then spoke: “Um…So we’ve both learned

some stuff, haven’t we?”

“I agree.” I answered. “I think both of us need to be grateful that

there are people like Marty and Miss Adamson around, to show us stuff

you don’t read in books.”

“I guess so.” said Eileen. Then once again there was a few seconds of

silence. Eileen spoke again: “ Um…You like enemas?”

“So far, I do.” I replied.

Eileen stood up. I did, as well. We approached one another and finally

came together in an embrace. Never before had I felt such a closeness as

Eileen pressed her body against mine and I pressed mine against hers. We

kissed, at first haltingly, then more deeply, our tongues doing a

pas-de-deux with one another. Finally Eileen spoke again.

“Can you…I mean will you…um…give me an enema?”

“If you give me one too!”

We laughed gently in each other’s arms.

The End

Another author’s note: I hope you enjoyed reading this and others

of my stories. Comments and suggestions are welcome. My email address

is: qqquixote@yahoo.com

-=Quixote La Mancha=-