It had been a long day, a Very Long Day. All three legs of the flight had been filled to the maximum with passengers and bumpy weather had been a factor for the last two hours. This was the third day in a row of the least amount of crew rest authorized under FAA regulations. They were tired, meals had been all airline food and even though attempts were made to drink enough water, everyone was dehydrated to some degree.

But now, now there were 2 1/2 glorious days of layover in Boston. Boston in March was still trying to decide between gray, windy and rainy, or cold, or cold, windy and snowy days. Regardless, the hotel on the harbor had a great view, very quiet rooms, excellent deep tub …(almost Japanese in style)/shower combination bathrooms and close access to a variety of excellent places to eat.

He had just undressed and was running a wonderfully steamy tub when the bathroom phone trilled. What now, schedule change? Aaaargh!

"Hello?"

"FO, This is Franny. I have a problem. Do you have anything for an upset stomach?" (FO is the acronym for First Officer, the second in command on a commercial flight crew, like a co-pilot in the military.)

"Sorry, Franny, all I have is aspirin and some Afrin for clogged sinuses. What seems to be the problem?"

A small strangled sigh and almost plaintive whine was followed by, "To be brutally honest, I think the flight attendant's ugly sister, constipation, has been with us for the past two days. I have cramps without my period …" You could feel the crimson blush over the phone … "and there have been no successful bathroom trips. I really don't like the Ex-lax or chemical stuff. Thought you might have something else, since you had that hospital ward training in college."

"Gee, Franny, wish I could help. Have you thought about picking up a Fleet enema kit or two?"

"Sure, but I'd be so embarrassed to buy them and besides, that's just more chemicals coming in from the other end, right?"

"Yes, Franny, but then I really have only two other suggestions. One, take some aspirin, drink as much water as you can and then try to get some sleep, with the hopes of awakening with a relief urge that will solve the problem."

"FO, I just don't think that I can sleep this way."

"OK. Option two. If you are carrying a douche bag, bring it to my room and I'll try to help you."

A long, long pause ensued. "Do you mean what I think you mean?"

"Franny, it's the only relatively quick way to solve the problem. You're a big girl (she was 37), we are both adults, and you know that you can trust me to be discreet about the problem."

"OK."

"Your choice. What's it to be?"

There was a very loooong, drawn-out sigh. "All right, you're in 315, right? That's only two doors down. What shall I wear?" (Now there's a typical female question, right, folks?)

"I would suggest just a T-shirt and panties, covered by your raincoat. It's only a couple of doors and I want you free to breathe, expand and change positions."

You could almost see the blush and hear the gulp as she said, "Be there in two minutes."

He put on a pair of nylon jogging shorts and covered these with the thick terrycloth hotel bathrobe and then quickly brushed his teeth.

True to her word, there was a knock on the door in two minutes. When he opened it, she stood there in her uniform raincoat, wearing white socks and carrying a towel-wrapped bundle, her face obviously freshly washed of make-up and glowing a very bright pink. Her lustrous dark brunette hair was tied back from her face with a dark green ribbon and she smelled faintly of mouthwash, sandalwood, citrus and musk. Her hazel eyes were an amalgam contrast of concern, embarrassment, and a very interesting tinge of anticipation/competition. "Reporting as ordered, Sir!" she said in a faint, little-girl-going-to the-doctor-voice.

"I appreciate your promptness, Franny," he said, encircling her shoulders with his arm and drawing her inside. "And more than that, your trust." The door closed with a very audible click, sealing, as it was, her fate.

"Let's see what you have here," he requested, taking the bundle, unrolling the towel and revealing a blue rubber folding pumpkin-like bag, capable of holding 2 1/2 to 3 quarts, attached to a long tan rubber hose and ending in a fairly large diameter, black nozzle with a knob-like protrusion on the end that was designed to swirl with any fluid's exit and to create a circular spraying effect. "This will do just fine, Franny. Please take off your coat and go lie down on the bed, next to the right side edge. Lie down on your left side and put your left hip on top of those two pillows with the towel over them. This will raise your bottom up about five or six inches and help keep the liquid inside where it can do the work."

Her face revealed that there was not too much previous concern about keeping it in. Now, there just might be!

She disrobed, showing a pair of translucent blue hip-hugger panties and a "Cabo" T-shirt without a bra (very evident from the puppy noses attempting to find a way out!). These, with her white sox, made her look about 20 years younger.

He left to fill the bag, running very warm water over a small bar of ivory soap from his Dopp Kit. The solution was more milky murky than bubble-filled, but he knew only too well its impact in a filled intestine. Adding a small tube of KY liquid, he carried the bag back into the bedroom. "OK, Franny, show time. Take off your panties while I hang this."

There was a conveniently located wall light fixture about 2 feet above the bed surface which left the warm, fragrant, bloated bag almost directly over her anxious face … very visible testimony to what was about to enter her intestines.

"Franny, you need to be very relaxed and slick for the nozzle entry, especially with this bulb end. Let me make it easier for you." And saying that, he squirted KY fluid on both his index and middle right hand fingers as she watched.

Kneeling behind her, he lifted her right thigh and knee to reveal the crinkled, rosy brown, tightly clenched anus. Smoothing his slick fingers against and around her quivering hole, he could not help but be distracted by the sight of her bikini-cut vaginal pubic hair, unsuccessfully attempting to cover and hide the moistened, widening chasm of her outer lips. Her anus was clenched so tightly that it looked like a little brown nut. Each time his slick fingers brushed across it or circled, her toes clenched and she stiffened.

Chuckling gently, he stopped, poised to directly enter her and said, "Franny, we have to make a pathway either here or through your navel, what's your choice?"

She giggled, visibly relaxed and said, "You're right, the other way would be tough."

"OK, then push out for me and relax."

She did, the crinkled dot dilated and his finger slid smoothly in to the second knuckle. "Oooooh ... that's, that's so, oooooh, " was her only response.

Sliding it almost all the way out, he entered and retreated again and again, lingeringly sensually, provocatively. She was obviously beginning to enjoy the process, so he slipped the second finger in. It was an effort at first, as her opening was reluctant to expand to double the size of the previous invader, but they were still smaller than a medium-size penis.

Her hands were clenching and releasing the bedspread and her face flashed between sexual appetite and practical pain twinges. But, she was now dilated and slick enough to accept the bulbous black nozzle head that hung down from the bag, taunting her.

He sloowly withdrew his fingers, stopping to place them on either side of her anus and placing the lubricated nozzle against it. "Push out again, please."

She did … there was a very awkward, almost panicked hesitation before her opening stretched enough for the nozzle head to slip inside with an inaudible, but very visible 'pop.' She let out a sigh of relief as the long curved invader slid deeper and deeper inside. His fingers pressing against the sides of her anus enhanced the sensation. When the connection to the rubber hose nosed up against her opening, her hands relaxed and her toes straightened.

"Are you ready?" Oh, yes, there was all that very warm, milky liquid to be accepted. Suddenly, the bag appeared twice as large. Not waiting for the possibility of a negative response, he unsnapped the clip with a 'click' and vibration that she felt in advance of that indescribable wave of warmth and initial pressure.

After only a minute or so, she yelped, "Oh, stop! I'm full!" Looking up at the bag, she realized with a sickening sensation there was hardly even a dent in its bloated expansion.

"Now, Franny, you know there's going to be pressure and maybe even some pretty good cramping before sufficient water moves up far enough to do any real good. Let's rest for a moment and I'll try to help."

He closed the clip and pushed her right knee down even with her outstretched left one. Holding the small of her back with one hand, he began massaging her stomach in a counterclockwise movement from a point just above her clitoris, upwards to just below her breastbone. Gently at first, then more firmly so that fluids and bubbles audibly shifted, then more gently again. He could sense when her pressure eased and without asking, clicked open the clamp again.

As the fluid carried the pressure in and up again, he took her right hip and rolled her onto her back, then lifted her from beneath both knees towards her chest. "Changing positions gives more room and new locations for the enema to move into. Hold these, please." And he placed both her hands beneath her knees.

The pressure was eased somewhat, but she was now revealing all of her lower ripened female anatomy for his very up-close and personal view. He noted her outer lips were fully opened and her inner ones were separated enough to show the gathering moisture and peeping clitoral crown.

Although the filling sensation certainly continued, she had no additional cramping until a third of the bag had transferred. "Uuunnh ... oh, it's bad again, please stop!"

He complied and then lowered her legs all the way. Now she lay outstretched with her hips pushed up by the doubled pillows, as though offering her vagina on some Aztec altar of sacrifice. He repeated the massage, emphasizing the upward portion beneath her rib cage and sometimes curving farther beneath her T-shirt to cup the lower third of her breasts. She continued grimacing and clenching her hands on the bed.

"You must really be stopped up. Take just a little more and then you can release this much. Roll on your right side and see if a position change can help things."

She rolled and her T-shirt slipped over and off her left breast, exposing a very turgid nipple. She was much more concerned about the snap of the reopening clip and new surge of warm pressure than any false modesty. He held her left hip and continued the massage.

The bag moved inward and downward toward a definite 'halfway' mark with a collapse into folds and jiggling of the hose and nozzle. "Oh! Please, puleeze, I really have to go."

SNAP ... small relief.

"Franny, you must hold this for at least five minutes. I'll stir things up a little, but there will be no new volume, K?"

She just gritted her teeth and nodded her head, concentrating upon the retention.

"Roll over with your chest down and hips on the pillows." Awkwardly, clenching her bottom, she complied. With hips up and stomach down, the pressure eased in at least the lower regions. He began to very slowly retract the nozzle until she could feel the bulbous head pressing to exit, then the piston moved forward again. He continued the action and all her anal nerves began to applaud the sensually strange sensations. Sometimes, when the nozzle was fully seated, he would rotate the base so that the tip moved in a circle within her bowels. Occasionally, he would stretch the hose and 'strum' the tensioned line, vibrating her whole pelvic cavern. It was so delicious, but still on the brink of causing an expulsion. No words were necessary. They both understood what was happening. And they liked it … a lot!

At five minutes end, he said, "Hop up and I'll take you into the bathroom."

Well, she gingerly got up and with the nozzle still inside, tiptoed with buttocks firmly clenched into the steamy waiting bathroom.

"Here's the tricky part, face the back of the commode with the seat up and straddle the bowl. We'll try to avoid any accidents on the floor."

She complied, knowing what a unique view her position afforded and the increased difficulty in retention this caused. He reached under her, grasping the nozzle 'trunk' from behind and steadied her from in front with the other hand just over her navel.

"Relax .…" She tried, and he pushed in and down from in front while pulling down and back from underneath.

She was in such a pickle, really wanting, needing to expel, yet not wanting to let him see her do it. It was so incredibly personal, much more than almost anything! There was no choice. The combined forces of the push starting inside, hydraulic forces downwards, and the pulling forces from outside quickly caused her anus to expand, open, and release the nozzle's knobby head.

"Oooh, oooh, it feels so horribly wonderful," was her comment as the initial gush and plops cascaded into the bowl.

There was no holding back now, the lower loosened material came forth in three percussive gushes. She stood with her knees bent, head thrown back and neck tendons straining, her little red anus ring extruding like a pursed mouth. "Uuuunnnhh". Relief! More to come, a lot more, but at least now it was leaving.

Relief, still more to come, but now she had control. He sensed this and gently turned her while he lowered the seat and placed her bottom on it. "You did great for the first try." First try? Uh, oh! "I'll start filling the next one." And so saying, he turned away to add much hotter water with more soap to combine with the now lukewarm bag's remainder.

The combination of the internal enema warmth, the steamy bathroom atmosphere and her own straining soon had perspiration glistening on her face, darkening her shirt and dripping from beneath her breasts. He dampened a washcloth with cool water and wiped her brow and eyes.

"Take off your shirt and I'll towel you off," he directed. She thought she might as well. He'd already been more personal with her than anyone since her Mom!

So she did, and he did, with a hand towel, wiping her back and chest while she made more deliveries into the bowl. The rough towel felt wonderful on her stiffened nipples. The gushes lessened in volume and extended between times. He finally said, "Clean up, flush and join me for number 2."

She wiped three times, flushed, and rinsed her face and hands. Walking back into the bedroom, she noted the replenished and bloated bag hanging with a freshly lubed nozzle, glistening. He said, "OK, gorgeous, back into position. This should be a lot easier to accept and reach much further inside you."

Oh, joy, did he mean taking the whole thing? But, she dutifully complied, lying now nude on her side, hips elevated and leg drawn up. His finger went inside gently, smoothly, to its length and then twisted to and fro. It felt good … extra good. She liked the invasion. All too soon, he slowly withdrew it and then replaced it with the knob of the nozzle. "OK, open wide!" his voice said with a smile.

She pushed out, careful not to let any remaining 'squirts' get away. Once again, the large head's diameter dented, then expanded her opening and the little red target finally surrendered with a slurp! Immediately, the clip clicked open and the flow started with a fairly cool temperature … fluid waiting in the hose from the previous enema had cooled.

The first evacuation had left clear sailing for the second infusion and it met no obstacles to cause cramping. It actually felt very sensuous from the vibrations and filling. Then, it began to warm, really get warm and she began to twist on the bed and clutch at the bedspread. He noticed immediately and said, "Position 2. Look Franny, you've already taken a third of the bag!"

She glanced up as she rolled and sure enough, a sizable dent was visible in the blue balloon. More fluid, massaging, tingling in her vagina and clitoris. Now more pressure and the first cramp. "Aaaahhhh, it's back," she murmured.

He stopped the flow. "Let me take your mind off of the problem." He cupped her whole pubic mound with his palm and began a gentle pushing, revolving massage. With his other hand, he rubbed her stomach, using the counterclockwise, upwards strokes from before. The two motions made quite a contrast, and she began to have additional expectations. Why, she might even climax from this!! That lower hand was feeling delicious ... and the thought of having one while holding all the water was scary, but exciting. Could she do it? Could she have one? How would it be different? And then the motions stopped ….

'Click,' and the flow began its searching expansion anew. "Right side, please," he instructed, pulling her over and stretching her lower leg out. "Way to go, halfway there." Halfway? Was that half of 3 quarts or 2 1/2 quarts? That last half-quart difference could be devastating at this point!

"Excellent, only a little more." The flow stopped. Whew. "Now roll further up onto you knees, but keep your shoulders and head on the bed."

Oh my, that really did stick her rear up in the air, and dragged her nipples across the bedspread. She felt so vulnerable ... to something, to anything. 'Click,' the warmth rushed in again, almost straight down into her, it felt like. Fullness again, big fullness. Like pregnant fullness. "Wait, please! Stop! I have to be full!"

A chuckle. "Maybe so, but there's about 3/4 quart to go," but he did stop. No, no way could she accept that much more! But now, he began to stroke her again, beginning with her upraised, out-thrust buttocks and sliding down the muscles of her back and returning. Then more circles on her behind and down her haunches to the pits of her knees. After several more cycles, he stopped and rotated each buttock away from the other, opening the valley, dilating her anus and allowing the pressure in front of the nozzle to push it back and almost out. Such an unusual sensation … almost like there was a third person in the room, helping him manipulate her.

The internal pressure had slackened or at least not increased. And then, he put his fingers against her vagina saying, "This will be very intimate and taxing for you, but I want that last bit of water inside."

And as he finished, his middle finger slid smoothly inside and began piston-like motions. With the other hand, the nozzle began identical motions into her anus. He found her 'G, H, I, J and maybe K spots' with the dual movements.

She began moaning. "Oooooh, oooooh, Yes! IT was coming … from far away, but it was very distinct, very sharp, very intense. She was so full, so warmed and so irritated by the mixture, and it wanted out! His knowing hands and fingers were skillfully playing her nerve endings like a master violinist, and the melody was rising in volume and intensity.

The cupping motion on her vaginal mound was arousing the exterior and the finger was really stirring up the inside equation. It was all so stimulating and confusing. Mother nature wasn't helping. The sunset was now hidden with very dark clouds and the wind was gusting with rain starting to spatter against the windowpanes. Like a water fountain, gushing gutter or waterfall, the rain only intensified her need to lose fluid, not add any more!

His hand left her behind and she felt his chest sliding over her back as his hands burrowed beneath her sides and began to fondle her breasts and tweak her nipples. New location, new sensation, another addition to the train headed downhill, gathering speed. A hand returned to the nozzle, the other to the clip. The nozzle began to piston again, its big head scouring her channel, creating friction, arousal and need!

'Click!' Oh, God! Oh no, no, not more! But there was, and his fingers were back inside, pushing, pulling, spreading and entreating ….

The last ounces rushed in, validated by the bag's folding collapse, and this visual signal seem to be what her sexual system was waiting for. "Uuuuuunnnnnhhhhh, oh, oh yes, more, more! Oh, oh, YES! I'm … ahhhhh … ggggngh … ahgggg … unh … unh … unh," and a complete collapse on the bed.

He continued to massage her interiors with both probes, prolonging the retreating sensations, extending the firework's end. He slowed stopped and then withdrew fingers, reluctantly.

The golden mist began to clear in her mind, reality returned and with it, the realization that all 3 plus quarts, were now returning to their entry point with irritating agitation knocking on the inside of her anal door.

"I've got to go! Oh, hurry! Hurry!"

"Easy, Franny, you'll make it. I haven't lost a patient yet. If you don't hold it, we'll both be swimming!" He chuckled as helped her off the bed, stomach distended and buttocks clenched. Hopping into the bathroom, nozzle hose trailing from between her cheeks up to his hand holding the bag, she quickly straddled the bowl, knees trembling. Hanging the bag on the shower rod, he cradled her left breast, pulled her nipple, and simultaneously pulled down on the nozzle.

S-p-u-l-a-s-H!!! He quickly laid the nozzle down on the tub and cupped her other breast. And so, she stood, knees bent, crouched over the bowl, delivering the gushing fluid as he rolled her nipples with his fingers and kissed the back of her neck. As the draughts became dribbles, she sighed and said, "Is that tub big enough for two?"

It was, but then, that's another story, right?