Throughout my life, I've been fasciated with enemas. They were given to me on a fairlyregularly andwhen myyoungaunt caregiver learned that I not only willingly accepeded her frequent ministrations, she found that many times I would hint at needing an enema, she understood that I often craved them as a special adventure with her, and she would often give me slow, prolonged enemas over an hour or so. She was gentle and seductive.
I was too shy in my young adult years, to pursue possibilities, but after I met the woman I would eventuallymarry, and we became comfortable with each other, I eventually approached the subject of enemas. While getting a clean towel out of the linen closet, I noticed a bulb syringe. She told me her young daughter needed an enema once in awile, so I knew she was enema orintated. Also at one time, she told me how she had to take cleansing enemas for intestinal surgery. My toes cureled with envy that she hadn't asked me to help, but it also gave me confidence.
So before long I asked her if she had an enema syringe. We chatted a little about my feeling I needed an enema and she willingly said "Sure, I'd love to give you an enema--in fact I've found the best way is to give a series of smaller enemas so everything works it's way down". I was so taken with anticipation that I was quivering !!
She favored my laying on a blanket covered with an absorbant pad and three progressive positions-- First on my back [to facilitate lubing and putting the nozzle in my bottom], the left side for a while, then rolling to the other side.
When I was in position on my back with legs raised, she laid the bottle on a nearby chair, she knealt in front of me, applied some vaseline to me and the nozzle, and leaned over so she could see where to go. As she touched the nozzle to my botton and put it up inside me just a little, she uttered a quiet gutteral sound of pleasure. I subsequently learned that she loved to watch herself taking the initiative and seeing my bottom swallow the shiny nozzle.
It took us most of an hour to give me enemas to her satisfaction. Once my appitite had been whetted, I looked forward to an opportunity to have her give me another enema, but wanted to be patient so as not to appear crude.
A month or so later, I was at her house after a tiring day and while we were louging a bit she suggessted that sometimes an enema that isn't needed for constipation and the usual discomfort can be relaxing and theraputic. What she said was the music I had been waiting for all my adult life. "Why don't you let me give you a nice warm slow enema?"
It was the most memorable enema of my life !! My anal nerves were at fever pitch, and the initial awareness as I began to feel something happening, then the gradual feel of my tummy tightening were beyond my belief. We exhanged soft expressions of what each was sensing. When she first started the water up inside my bottom, I wanted to hear her tell me what she was doing to me, so as the first sensations began I asked "are you giving me an enema now?" Yes love,I'm giving you an enema". A slow time later asked if I was feeling warm and fuzzy, which I was. She was loving what she was doing to me, secretly knowing that before long what she was doing was going to make me go whether I wanted to or not. Time went on,we did eneams from time to time, she confesed that she enjoyed giving me enemas until then made me go--sort of like it was her time to bethe seducer.
She had given me my long slow enema on her bed and gone into the bathroon to hang the syringe and begin preparing for bed. I was comfortable and wallowing in newfound eroticism when that inevitable urge tp expel set in. I got up,ticked the towel agaist my bottom and hurried to the bathroom. She stepped aside as I passed by and murmured "I love to give you an enema like that so it makes you go". I secretly loved the whole idea too, because it felt good to expell and I was not responsible for controlling the urgency. I loved her taking charge.