The cruise ship was advertised in the brochure as particularly designed for singles. I’d been living somewhat high off the hog and although I was making a good salary my bank account was rather depleted. “But what the heck,” I thought, and sent my app in with the required down payment. My not so youthful but rosy outlook said, “I’ll fatten the account again in a couple of months.”

After the required fire drill attendance on deck, we dispersed for a couple of free hours. I had already met some kindred spirits and I was looking forward to a bashing first night at sea. The promised calm sea of the Caribbean was a hope-a-hope. I’m not a good traveler. I’ve thrown up on plane flights and car rides but hope springs eternal and my first cruise on an ocean liner was, I felt, sure to be of good prospect. I had read in an old text that a thorough bowel cleansing would guarantee no seasickness. I really didn’t believe it but a good enema couldn’t hurt and would bring psychological pleasure to me anyway.

So there I was going down into the bowels of the ship towards my bare-boned stateroom. I was vaguely thinking of an enema encounter with a lovely lady – how, I didn’t know, but it was on the back burner of my mind. On the first level down, a petite lady in a diaphanous peignoir was holding a large red enema bag in her hand at the open door of her stateroom. It was absolutely impossible. I shook my head in disbelief. It must be an apparition. My mind was playing tricks. No it wasn’t. I shook my head and blinked my eyes and she was still there, still holding that large red enema bag and still wearing that see-through nightgown. And there, standing a few feet away from her, I actually ‘came’ in my pants with powerful jets soaking through my briefs. I had no physical stimulation. There was no erection. And yet I jetted, vehemently so. The mind, the emotions are powerful machines. I just started to ejaculate. I steadied myself on the wall and my eyes saw red – almost the beginning of a faint and then I caught myself. She saw immediately that I was in a highly charged state, took my arm and led me into her stateroom closing the door behind us

I had by now somewhat gathered myself together even as the stain spread on the front of my blue jeans. I could see clearly that Marnie had no bra on but she did have a pair of full-cut paisley panties on. I fell to my knees in front of her and lifting her nightie started sucking in the vaginal area of her panties. She leaned against the stateroom wall and dropped the empty enema bag on the floor next to me. I continued ‘eating’ her through the panties and then reached and pulled down the panties and started tonguing right into her. She spread her legs, still standing but I could feel her swaying from passion and turned her toward the bed pushing her onto it. She lifted and spread her legs while I went to work. Within a minute, perhaps two, she started shuddering and clamped her legs hard around my head. As I reread what I have just written, it sounds absolutely impossible to believe. And yet it happened as I wrote it.

For the first time we started to speak to each other. Remember – we were two strangers. Both of us had climaxed, yet not one word had passed between us until this moment. I spoke first. “I must have been dreaming of an enema encounter and when I saw the enema bag you were holding, I just ejaculated on the spot. I’ve never experienced a seminal discharge before without any physical manipulation at all.”

And Marnie came back with a question. “How did you know”, she asked, “that it was an enema bag I was holding. Maybe it was for a douche?”

The question was a good one. How did I know? And then I realized that the mind also functions on a level above mundane thinking. Nowadays a douche bag is usually of the fold-up travel type, usually pink in color. Marnie was holding a big red classic bag of the 50’s and I must have also seen and absorbed in my mind’s eye the black curved douche tip that we so love to use for the taking of enemas. And so I told Marnie. She smiled. And now my obvious question to her. “Why were you standing in the open corridor of a ship with an enema bag in your hand?”

Marnie smiled and answered. “The anonymity on shipboard made me brave. I don’t think anyone knows me here on this cruise ship. I could be wrong but I took a chance. We become a bit wild when we think we’re alone and we take chances that we wouldn’t normally take in our home setting. I was actually hoping for a man who was into enemas but I figured that this was too long a shot. So I thought perhaps that some sort of sexual encounter might come of my holding an enema bag and somewhat selling my personal charms. How do you like my sexy peignoir and no bra? And the fact is that one man ogled me so blatantly that I turned into my stateroom and shut the door. Another turned away from me as though he saw nothing out of the ordinary. And then you came traipsing down the corridor and I think we both hit the jackpot.”

She looked at my stained pants and suggested a shower. I undressed as she showed me around her cabin. No – not a cabin; surely a stateroom on the ‘Dreamboat’. There was a salon (I wouldn’t think of calling it a reception area.) which led to a posh bedroom with king size bed and canopy. (Sorry – no mirror on the ceiling.) And then we traipsed into the bath area. A Jacuzzi no less. A bidet. A shower. And there hanging on the wall, a travel douche syringe and pink it was. Marnie dropped her peignoir on the floor, adjusted the shower and we both stepped in. We gently soaped each other including our intimate areas. I became hard. She became tumescent. Marnie was easy to lift and with her legs around my hips I entered her. It was pleasurable as the water spritzed over us. But I realized that I wasn’t going to come this way and I carried Marnie into the carpeted bedroom and on the warm floor we made traditional love. It was good, very good. Well – after sex what’s the next step. Of course – the Jacuzzi. And we lolled in the Jacuzzi facing each other and playing footsie and handsie and yakking away about our mutual likes.

After I changed clothes in my cabin, we met to dine and have fun, enjoying the sophisticated entertainment offered on the cruise ship. We bedded together in Marnie’s suite and in the morning Marnie requested an enema. With alacrity and using all my skills, I gave her a lovely enema that she lazily enjoyed. She used some baby wipes to clean her rectum thoroughly and then asked me to lick her anus. I was a bit taken aback by the request – I had never tongued a rectum before – but I acceded knowing about the cleanliness of the area and curious to experience this rather extreme sex act. Marnie got into a knee-chest position and I began. Marnie said to me, “You know – I’ve never had this done to me before. I just wanted to see how it would feel.” Well – it seems it was a first for both of us and after a few minutes she said, “Enough.” And that was that. Marnie told me it was pleasant enough but that she had felt no strong sexual arousal. I guess I could have asked her to do the same for me but I had no real desire to be licked on my ass hole. So for the rest of the morning we relaxed on her private veranda in our bathing suits.

The days that followed consisted of the traditional cruise activities. We swam, we shuffleboarded, we volleyed, we ate, and we ate and we ate. And in the evening we partook of the entertainment. The port stops were pleasant breaks from the shipboard agenda. So you can see that life was not too strenuous for us. So why were we always so tired?

I had, in effect given up my stateroom for Marnie’s posh salon. In the morning, after juice, coffee and croissants – served by a steward in her stateroom – we made all kinds of love. Almost always there was a session of enema-love. An enema for Marnie, an enema for me, and sometimes an enema for both. We tried different positions. I liked particularly being given an enema by Marnie while I was draped over the low coffee table in the entry room and on my separated knees. Marnie enjoyed anointing my rectum which always caused me to erect. Right after the anal massage came the anal douche, which usually consisted of two quarts of, warmed bottled water. Neither of us liked a soap solution enema that often leaves the bowel system irritated for hours after the enema. Sometimes we would add some salt to the warm water, which theoretically helps the electrolytes in the body function more efficiently. I guess it makes sense that when a person takes too many enemas the natural salt in the body gets washed out but I remain unconvinced.

Marnie enjoyed her enemas in all kinds of positions – the classical Sims position, the knee-chester, the doggie position, flat on her back, on the toilet, in the shower, over the toilet seat. In whatever position she found herself she just bent over when she saw me coming to her with the heavily loaded classic bag. I obliged with a gentle internal vaselining, then in went the ebonite black, black pipe – emptied of air, of course - and I held the bag for maximum feeling and minimum cramping. Marnie would look up at me with a smile of sheer enjoyment. I might kiss her buttocks during the enema process or perhaps suck her lovely tits. And afterwards she would eliminate her enema in front of me. Our inhibitions had disappeared on this sea trip of anonymity. I would never move my bowels in front of anybody in real life or even urinate in front of a woman. But this trip was unreal. It was dreamlike for both of us. Our cruise was not of the real world. We were invisible to our true life styles and therefore we acted in utter abandon. We were in Dante’s nether-land and we made the most of it.

A word about the bidet. Usually the bidet is used, as I then understood it, for rectal and vaginal cleanliness. European women, who did not have the use of a daily shower, kept their lower parts washed via the bidet. But it has now gone out of fashion even in Europe. There has been lately a swing back to a bidet installation in the bathrooms of the ‘swells’ in America, as I believed, just to keep up with the Smythes. But after our experience together, the use of the bidet seems to have another important function. The water temperature of the bidet can be adjusted as well as the force of the water bubbling up from the spout. When Marnie started to experiment with the bidet, she (and I) realized it had masturbatory potential. Sometimes it seemed that Marnie enjoyed her bidet more than my prick. I’m exaggerating. Sexual intercourse between humans is more than just masturbation or simply reaching a climax. Intercourse is the coming together of two human bodies – male and female – who become, so to speak, one entity. We go into each other. We blend with each other. And though sometimes the sex is not so great, it’s still good because of the hugging and the touching and the murmuring – in other words, the intimacy between two people. But Marnie’s experience with the bidet was enlightening to both of us and Marnie declared that she would have a bidet installed pronto when she got home.

Enemas were one part of our togetherness. The other was plain and fancy sex. We did it in the 69 position; I ate her; she sucked me. We tried some kookie Kama Sutra positions. I went the brown chute route after enemaizing Marnie. Marnie had brought an interesting vibrator that gave both of us pleasure both rectally, vaginally and on my penis. For ten days we kept up the enema and sex activities and by the end of the trip we were just about all tripped out. The last couple of days we just kept going to make the whole trip a completely memorable one for the both of us. We both knew the end of the cruise was the end of our relationship. We had really not talked intimately of our personal lives on land. When we parted I knew nothing of Marnie’s marital status, where she came from, her religion, her family. Her last name was bland – like a Jones or a Williams name. I too did not bare my soul. We enjoyed each other’s company. We had a great time together and it was a kiss goodbye.