My first enemate was my high school girl friend. We were young and far more naive about sex than kids are today. Our hormones were raging, yet we didn't know quite what to do. Masturbation made boys go blind or grow hair on their palms; nice girls didn't play with themselves. Light petting was OK; no touching below the waist and no touching breasts. So that's what we did. Like most of our friends, light petting turned to heavier and more intimate stroking - just doing what came naturally, albeit, haltingly and shyly. As things got sweatier we discovered that anal rubs and short finger insertions were a real turn on. During one session we got talking about how much we were enjoying anal play and it came out that we both came from "enema families." We were old enough that our families expected us to attend to our own enema needs and so we did, much more for pleasure, than for reasons of health. This discovery put smiles on both our faces.
Vaginal sex was off limits, for girls in that day were preserving themselves for their husbands to be. Pregnancy was also a real threat. This was before the pill and other forms of birth control were not readily available to high school kids. We tried anal intercourse, but we had no idea what we were doing and we called it off because it was obvious I wasn't gonna' get in. Fortunately, we called it quits before it became painful for her. So, we had mutual masturbation and oral sex to keep our hormones at bay. But now enemas,that was really something. The bags were readily available. At her house it hung on the back of the bathroom door; at mine, on a nail next to the bathtub. There was lots of vaseline and ivory soap at both places. Our high school schedule gave us most afternoons off, because of overcrowding and both sets of parents worked. We had motive, means and opportunity and so we gave each other enemas at least once a week and, generally, more often.
We both preferred the douche nozzle At her house, it was fluted, bent at an angle with the holes on the side; at mine, it had an egg shaped ball at the end and it sprayed out the front. We both liked the knee chest position though we often did lay on our backs with our knees pulled back to make it easier for being stroked, licked or sucked to orgasm or the over the knee position, I think for nostalgia's sake. We really liked ivory soap. Sometimes one, or both of us would get a soapstick suppository as we often did from Mom when we were younger. We did these more often when we bought our own bars and no longer had to worry that it would be noticed that the family soap was disappearing in soapstick sized chunks. If the family bar of enema soap had been left in the bag so that it had softened or if the underside of the bath soap in the soap dish had a layer of soft soap, we get a nice thick layer on the nozzle for lubricant. We'd use spit for lubricating our fingers to relax the hole a bit, then insert the soap encrusted douche nozzle - a real eye opener. We liked our first enemas to be pretty soapy. We'd fill the bag half full of pretty hot water, swish the soap around, then leave the bar in while the bag was filled and the enema given.
We'd each generally take two, one soapy, one clear. The bags were two quarters and most of the time we'd be able to take it all, with stops along the way. I think,we were able to take this much because even though we were young, we'd had lots of enemas in our lives and didn't tense up - just enjoyed the flow. With out talking about it, we'd each get naked. We'd never done that before, but it just seemed like the thing to do. Looking at her totally naked was the fulfillment of my pubescent dreams.
We'd alternate who received first without rhyme or reason and the first for each was the soapy one. If I were going first, after the bag was ready, I'd get on a towel on the bathroom floor, ass in the air. She'd lubricate a finger and stick it in and out to get the entrance lubed and a bit relaxed. Then came insertion. I liked mine hard and fast; she liked hers slow and gentle. The valve got opened and that wonderful flow began. The rule was that the giver would close the clamp at the takers request. She wasn't into cramping, so I'd hold the bag lower and often close the valve when she asked. I was more into cramping, so I liked the bag very high with not many shut offs. We both enjoyed it when the giver moved the nozzle in and out, fucking our asses with it. If I went first, when the flow stopped, I'd get on the toilet and start to expel while she got the next bag ready. Being in the same small bathroom didn't bother either one of us despite the smell, the grunts and the sound of expulsion. That was pretty strange considering that we'd get embarrassed if one of us farted, noisily or aromatically, outside of the enema scene. I guess raging hormones trumps social nicety.
When it seemed liked I was finished expelling, I'd wipe, flush and she'd get on the floor, ass in the air awaiting the lubed finger, the nozzle and the warm flow. Sometimes, while she was on the floor taking it in or on the toilet pushing it out, I'd be overwhelmed with the need to expel. The only place to go was the bathtub, so there I'd let rip. If she received first, she'd be the one pooping in the bathtub. We'd allow ourselves a little bit of time for kissing and fondling and emergency expulsions, before starting the second round.
Early on, we tried both enemas being soapy, but that made for an extended period of emergency expulsions and discomfort so we switched to a smaller volume of clear water. When the last gurgle sounded for me, she'd take me in her mouth and give me what were my first blow jobs, while moving the nozzle in and out of my rear hole. I'd never felt anything like - an enema within, a nozzle fucking my ass and a blow job - for a high school kid, doesn't get any better. When her second enema was done, I'd go down on her, fucking her ass with the nozzle and playing with her nipples with my other hand. Whoever got the clear water first would get on the toilet, the other would get the second bag ready as well as pooping in the bathtub if the need arose.
One day, toward the end of our high school days, she was going to take it first. The full bag was still hanging on the nail next to the bathtub, she was on the floor, beautiful ass in the air waiting for the lubed finger, when I was overwhelmed by the desire to lick her asshole. And so I did. It was a first for me and it tasted scrumptious. It was a first for her too and I felt her stiffen at the touch of my tongue on her outer rim. I kept going but I was afraid I'd crossed some sort of line and that this session and maybe all naked enema sessions would be off. I soon felt her start to push back against my tongue and then start to wiggle - side to side and up and down while making little mewling sounds of satisfaction. After a bit of this, I finished lubing, inserted the nozzle and started the flow. The enema went as usual. Then she got on the toilet pooping her enema out while I got the next soapy bag ready. Nothing was said by either one of us about the tongue action.
After she thought she was finished, I got down on the floor waiting to be lubed. Instead of a finger, I got a tongue and she gave as good as she got, squeezing my ball sack for good measure. This time it was me making the little sounds of pleasure. She then lubed, inserted and started the flow. While I was on the toilet and she was pushing some more out into the bathtub, we talked about our new found pleasure. We each enjoyed both giving and receiving rimming (though we didn't know that's what is was called), so it became a regular part of our sessions. We gave ourselves a bit more time naked as we cleaned up, in case, as often happened, we had to poop some more. Then we'd get dressed and make sure everything was in order before parents came home.
If we thought there was time we'd start kissing and fondling and masturbating each other to climax. I was still astonished that every time I shot my wad once, she'd cum two or three times and was ready for more while I was still limp. I eventually got used to it, though it still seems unfair.
After high school graduation, we went off to college in different parts of the country, pledging our undying love when we parted. We went our separate ways and never did get back together again, even for a session. During my college years, I had a few enemate relationships that were pretty intense. After college, I married a wonderful woman. Our sex life was very good, except that she was not into giving or receiving enemas and thought that any male desire for anal stuff was a sign of closet gayness. My poor tush and bowels suffered from lack of attention during those married years. After a good many years we parted amicably and I was free to get back to my enema way of life. I've had several enemates since I became single, but I've noticed that as I've gotten older, the women I prefer (who are in my age group, mid-late 60's) still do enemas, but way less, if at all, for pleasure. They are almost exclusively for constipation relief. In giving and receiving, there just isn't any erotic sparkle that makes it so exciting. Just about all my enemas now are solo. To me, reliving memories while filling is a very erotic time.
I still think back to how intimate we were during those high school years, even though we never had vaginal or anal sex. I have never been involved with anyone since, where the shared smells and sounds of expulsion were all a fitting part of the erotic experience. We didn't know what we were doing or what we were supposed to do. We followed our instincts and our hormonal urges and made it up as we went along. It was a time when all the world was young and so were we.