enema | My Very First Enema Experience

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My Very First Enema Experience

 
 

"en-e-ma (n) 1. A liquid injected into the colon through the anus, as a purgative, medicine, etc.; clyster. 2. The injection of such a liquid."

That's what the dictionary said it was when I looked it up, but that information didn't satisfy my curiosity.

But let me digress.

I was born the youngest of three. My brother was three years older than me, and my sister was three years older than him.

It was when I had my first period, just before I turned thirteen, that my mother gave me the "birds-and-bees lecture". She was quite clinical about explaining the process, and made no mention of the erotic aspects of sex. I guess maybe she thought I was too young to understand, and I surmise that eventually she may have gotten around to answering more questions, but it didn't happen. She, my Dad, and my brother were killed in an auto accident just after I turned fourteen.

That left me and my sister alone. My parents had had plenty of money, and the insurance upon their deaths paid amply for Jen and I to live comfortably, at least until we both finished college. In effect, Jen, my sister, became the mother our family of two.

I enjoyed school, and did reasonably well. Jen was in the local university when the folks died, and I was on the verge of starting high school. We had an aunt and uncle who lived in town, but as long as we stayed out of trouble, they let us live alone in the same house we had grown up in. I guess they didn't want the responsibility.

Jen was the one who continued my sex education. She admitted to me that she had "done it", but she didn't glorify it. One thing she did do was to explain the need for protection during sex, and about the use of condoms. Furthermore, she introduced me to douches as an added precaution after sex, and as a means of cleaning myself up after my periods, which were heavier than the average for a girl my age.

After one such heavy flow episode, when I was sixteen, I went to take a douche and discovered that the old bag which Jen and I had shared had a severe leak. I told Jen about it, and she stopped on her way home from school and bought a new one. She handed me the box when she came in.

"Here..." she said, "You can break it in."

"Thanks!" I replied, and headed to the bathroom.

I took the new douche syringe out of the bag and read the label on the box:

"Combination Douche and Enema Syringe"

Opening the box, I saw that I was going to have to assemble the components. I also saw that there was a slip of paper with an inventory list of the parts provided. The list included two enema nozzles.

But I had never heard or seen the word "enema" before.

"Oh well..." I thought to myself, as I assembled the equipment and prepared my douche. "I'll find out tomorrow at school."

So there I was, in the school library, reading the dictionary definition, which did nothing to ease my curiosity, but to bring it to extreme.

"You find that interesting, Eileen?"

I was startled to discover that Miss Adamson, my biology teacher, had been standing behind me and looking over my shoulder as I read.

"Umm.." I blushed "Just curious." I said, honestly.

"You've never seen that word before?"

"Not before last night."

Miss Adamson looked around and saw that we were being watched. No one was close enough to hear the conversation, but I guess she decided not to risk being overheard.

"If you would like to know more about this subject, I'll be in my classroom during lunch. We can talk then, if you'd like.

For the next few minutes, I debated with myself about pursuing the subject. Miss Adamson, in addition to being my biology teacher, was also my councilor, and I had always thought of her as a nice person, dedicated to her profession.

"Why not?" I finally asked myself "It's sorta like girl talk, and she is my councilor, after all.

So when the period ended, announcing the lunch hour, I went straight to the biology lab. As she had promised, Miss Adamson was there. I knocked on the door before going in.

"C'mon in, Eileen." Miss Adamson said warmly. "Have a seat."

Gloria Adamson had a youthful appearance for a woman in her mid thirties. She stood about five foot six, and her body was well proportioned. She wore little makeup, mainly because she didn't need it. Her complexion was creamy, clear and wrinkle-free. The clothes she wore were casual yet conservative, and showed sophisticated taste. She wore her long strawberry blonde hair in a loose bun, accentuating a slender neck and angular jaw. Her blue eyes radiated a certain softness which made her easy to approach.

I complied, and she rolled her own chair over so we could be up close and face to face.

"You know," she said, "as your councilor, It's part of my job to follow your scholastic progress. I was just reviewing your record a couple of days ago, and was pleased to see that you are doing quite well. You should be proud of yourself."

"Thank you, Ma'am." I replied, almost blushing.

"I know you must be having a difficult time since your parents passed away, living alone with your sister. And yet, you seem to have risen above your problems. I congratulate you."

This time I really blushed, also holding back a tear. Miss Adamson reached over and took my hand.

"I want you to know that I'll be here for you and help you in any way that I can." I know I can't ever replace your parents, but I can try to make the loss of them a bit easier, if you'll let me.

"Thank you, Ma'am." I stammered.

"Glory." she said. "You may call me Glory when we're alone together. OK?"

"OK....Glory..." I smiled at her.

"So... There was a word in the dictionary you wanted to learn more about?"

"Um...yes. 'Enema' was the word."

"Let me ask you this: Have you ever felt a bit sick to your tummy and gone for more than a day or two without going to the bathroom?"

"Um...yes."

"Well, What did you do to cure that condition?"

"We have laxatives in the medicine chest for that."

"Well, laxatives are OK, but sometimes they take a while to work. There's another way which produces much quicker relief. It's called taking an enema."

Glory got up from her chair. "Come here so I can show you something."

I got up and followed her to a poster-sized chart which hung on the wall, labeled "Digestive System." Here she proceeded to explain the path which food takes through the stomach to the small intestine, and into the colon.

"Sometimes" she said, "Too much fluid is absorbed from the matter in the colon, which makes it denser than it should be for proper or comfortable expulsion, out the rectum."

She continued: "So, one way to resolve that problem is by introducing fluid through the rectum, to soften the stool and to cleanse the colon."

"I see..." I said, more intrigued than ever.

Glory hesitated, then spoke again: "There are people who take enemas on a regular basis as a means of preventing a stoppage, and to keep the colon clean." She added: "With all the fast food being consumed, that's a pretty good idea. I take an enema once a week."

I gaped in wonder that she had made that intimate statement.

"It feels good when done properly," she added, "I enjoy my enema sessions."

"I see." I said, hesitantly.

"It's important that the enema be administered properly for it to be pleasant and effective;" Glory added, "otherwise it can be painful.... I don't suggest you try it by yourself."

The bell rang, announcing the end of the lunch hour.

"Thank you, Glory..er...Miss Adamson. I gotta go to English class." I said.

"Any time, Maureen..." She replied, touching my cheek. "Remember what I said: any time you need help or have any questions, Don't hesitate to come see me."

I don't know what drove me, but I gave Miss Adamson a hug. She hugged me back. Then I turned away and left for my next class.

That visit with Miss Adamson did two things for me. On the positive side, I came away with a reassurance that I had someone to confide in, and who could help me when I needed it. But then I also came away more intrigued than ever about enemas. I willed myself to forget about it.

And I did forget about it, that is, until the end of my next period, when I gave myself a douche. There was that word again: Enema. It was then that I decided to pursue the matter further, but remembered Miss Adamson's words about proper administration.

The next day was a Thursday. As my biology class was adjourning, I approached Miss Adamson.

"Yes, Maureen?"

"Um...That word we were discussing a few weeks ago..."

"Yes..." she gave me a knowing look.

"Can you teach me how..." I stammered...

"I'd be happy to!" she said, then paused for a minute. "I have an idea. I will be spending this weekend at a cousin's beach condo. Why don't you come with me? We'll have plenty of time to visit, and we can learn about the subject you're interested in. We can also get a nice tan..."

"Umm..I didn't mean to..."

"Nonsense! It'll be fun!" she said, enthusiastically.

I relaxed, smiled and said "Okay!"

So we made quick plans before I had to scurry to my next class. I was to pack for the weekend that night, and bring my stuff to school the next day, so we could leave directly after classes. Naturally, I would have to clear it with my sister.

Jen agreed after a phone call to Miss Adamson that evening. She later confided that she had enjoyed some male company while I was gone.

The drive to Saint Augustine took less than an hour, and was exhilarating in Glory's Miata, with the top down. I was surprised and amazed to see that our destination was actually a penthouse atop a classy condominium complex. Glory told me that her cousin used it a few times a year to entertain corporate guests which he flew down from Boston, where he lived.

We opened all the windows to air the place out, changed into some shorts and halters, then went to a local grocery store for some snacks. Glory also bought a couple of bottles of wine. After taking our purchases to the penthouse, we decided to go out for dinner.

Glory had the ability to put me at ease, and we found that we had a lot in common. She had been orphaned as a little girl, and had been raised by her grandparents. She had a taste for light classical music, which I had also learned to appreciate, and she also pursued landscape photography as a hobby, which I had also recently dabbled in.

Our dinner was excellent, in a restaurant within walking distance of our quarters. We chatted almost incessantly about ourselves, and soon I felt as though I had found a new big sister. Finally, Glory paid the bill, and we walked on the beach, back to the condo.

On arrival, Glory turned the stereo on to some Rachmaninoff, switched on the outside speakers, and we went out to the spacious terrace to relax and enjoy the mild breeze which blew in from the southeast. Glory poured two glasses of wine, and held one out to me.

Surprised, I hesitated. "Umm...wine?..." I had never had anything with alcohol in it.

"It's OK;" said Glory, "It'll help us to relax, and if you don't tell, neither will I." She gave me an impish grin.

So we sat on a pair of chaises in the dusk, watching the surf far below, with strains of beautiful music and sips of wine lulling us into a state of relaxation.

Finally, Glory commented: "Ooof! I ate too fast. I'm feeling a bit bloated.

"Me too." I replied.

"Well, she said, "I guess now is as good a time as any for a nice enema."

I hesitated. She said: "Tell you what... I'll do mine first, and you can watch, and help me, if you want. Okay?"

"Okay." I replied.

So we walked into the penthouse, and proceeded to the bathroom, where Glory had already laid out the items we were to use.

She took one of the two bags and filled it with warm water, adding a squirt of liquid soap and some salt before screwing the cap on. She then kneaded the bag to mix the ingredients. Then she opened the clamp long enough to bleed any air from the hose. We walked back to the bedroom where a bath towel was already spread on the bed. Glory hung the bag from a wall lamp, commenting:

"It's a coincidence, I guess, but this is just the right height to hang the bag." She added: "You don't want the bag more than a couple of feet above the bed."

Then she took her halter, shorts and panties off -- she hadn't worn a bra -- and laid down. It was when she stripped that I saw her amazingly youthful body. She had firm breasts and a flawless flat stomach. Her mound was almost devoid of hair, displaying only a slight wisp, just enough to point to her vulva.

As I gazed at her I hoped to myself that I would look like that when I reached her age. She patted the bed next to where she lay. "Sit here, Maureen, so you can see what I'm doing." I sat.

Turning to her left side, she reached for an open jar of Vaseline. She dipped her finger in it and proceeded to daub a bit on to the enema nozzle. Then she reached behind her and inserted the same finger in her anus, sighing as she did. I could see that she was massaging herself with the Vaseline.

Glory's left knee was drawn up slightly, and her right knee was almost touching her breasts. Finally, she removed her finger from her anus and reached for the waiting nozzle, which she inserted, twisting it slightly as she progressed.

"Mmmm..." she murmured, as she played with the nozzle.

Then she reached for the clamp and clicked it open.

"Ahhhh!" came a gasp, not of pain or surprise, but one of pleasure. I could tell by the look of rapture and concentration on Glory's face. I also saw that the bag was slowly collapsing, as the fluid invaded her bowels.

Then, with another gasp she suddenly reached up and closed the clamp. Then she rolled over onto her back and began massaging her stomach. She looked at me and smiled, dreamily, relaxing, and reopening the clamp. She continued rubbing her stomach, occasionally reaching down to her pubic area and fingering herself.

"Mmmm..." she murmured, a look of intense pleasure making her face glow.

I was so rapt, watching Glory in her reverie, that I failed to notice that the bag was now completely collapsed, as Glory continued rubbing her pubic area with one hand, as she fingered her breasts with the other.

I began to feel sexually excited as I watched Glory revel in the self-administered stimulation. My cunny became wet, and I began fondling my breasts through the halter I wore.

Glory's rubbing became faster, more insistent, as did her breathing. Then finally, with an animal-like cry, she arched her back and stiffened in paroxysm of ecstasy, to collapse, spent, catching her breath, a dreamy look back on her face, her eyes closed.

After a minute or so, her breathing had slowed, and she looked at me with a smile.

"You see? This can be quite enjoyable."

"I had no idea," I said, "that masturbation would be a part of this."

"It doesn't have to be, but the urge comes naturally," Glory replied, "so why not enjoy the pleasure your body can give you?"

"Um... I dunno..." I said, blushing.

"Well. I must go expel this water. Then I'll get your bag ready. Why don't you change the CD, then take your clothes off and relax here. OK?"

I went in the living room and selected some Debussy, putting it in the stereo. Then I went back to the bedroom and undressed. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Glory to return. I felt misgivings about masturbating in front of her, but remembered she had said that it wasn't necessary to do so, so I decided to just go along with whatever I felt. I was already moist in my cunny, and I felt a bit excited down there.

Glory came back carrying a full bag, which she hung where the other one had been.

"This bag has no soap in it." she said, "Soap is a bit irritating, so I decided to do without, on your first experience. Okay?"

"Um... Okay."

"Well then. Let's proceed. I want you to lie down on your left side, as I did."

I stood up to come around to the other side of the bed and Glory remarked: "You have a beautiful body, Maureen; I hope you take good care of it."

"You're a beautiful woman, too, Glory. I hope I stay as young looking as you." Glory blushed slightly, then patted the bed, indicating where she wanted me to lie down.

I laid down on my left side as she had, and looked at Glory nervously. She instinctively sensed my unease.

"There's no need to be nervous or embarrassed." she said; "Think of me as a big sister. Can you do that?"

I smiled, blushing. "I'll try..."

Glory reached over and touched my hip. I reacted by visibly tensing up.

"Turn over on your belly, Maureen. You need to relax more."

I complied. Glory began by rubbing my back and then kneading the tendons on my shoulders and neck. It felt wonderful! She continued down to the small of my back, then switched to my calves, which she kneaded firmly but gently. I began to melt into a state of relaxed stupor as Glory worked magic on my body. Then she worked her way up the backs of my thighs, kneading and rubbing, magically transforming my tension into lust.

I moaned softly. "Mmmm... that feels sooo good..."

Glory kept at it for another minute, then softly asked me: "Are you ready?"

I rolled back onto my left side. "Mm..Hmmm..." I said, dreamily.

I saw Glory reach for the jar of lubricant and dip her finger in it.

"Bend your left leg a bit....that's right...now, bring your right knee up towards your chest....Good!"

I felt Glory widen the gap between my bottom cheeks and shuddered a bit when she started smearing a bit of Vaseline around my anus.

"Take a deep breath, then push down..."

I did, and felt Glory's finger penetrate my tight hole easily, as she rubbed jelly into my rectum. She did this slowly though deliberately, and the sensation, though new to me, was not unpleasant. Glory's massage continued for a minute or so, then she gently withdrew her finger. It was then that I became aware of the increased wetness in my cunny.

That sensation was short-lived, because I soon felt the hardness of the enema nozzle nudging its way up my rectum. The only unpleasantness was manifested in my mind, which was now delving into new experience. My body, still relaxed from Glory's wonderful massage, welcomed the new intrusion.

I was briefly awakened by Glory's gentle voice: "I'm going to start the water now...OK?"

"Mmmm..."

There was a click...then a pause..then I felt a warmness enter my body, manifested first as a heat on my tail bone... I reached for my breasts. As the warmth spread inside me, I involuntarily began playing with my nipples. I opened my eyes to see Glory peering at me, a knowing, gentle smile on her face.

"If you feel the slightest discomfort, I want you to take a couple of deep breaths." That was Glory's gentle admonition as she stroked my head in a way I hadn't felt since before my mother's passing.

As I began to sense a fullness enter me, my hand reached down to my crotch, and I went to finger my little button, but Glory's hand took mine, placed it back on my breast, and, saying "Let me..." placed her hand on my mound, her finger worming its way to my waiting button....

As she gently teased me, I instinctively turned onto my back and splayed my legs to afford Glory better access to my inner thighs.

I felt my abdomen begin to swell and cramp, and grunted my discomfort, only to feel Glory use her other hand to massage my belly. "Deep breaths, now..." she coached, almost at a whisper. And as I complied, as if by magic, the cramps subsided, allowing me to turn my attention back to my cunny, which was so skillfully being played with.

My body, overcome by new and lovely sensations, reacted urgently with twitches which later turned to spasms of lust. My hips bucked, thrusting against Glory's skillful fingers, which knew just when and where to probe and tease for maximum effect. Finally I was engulfed by a tension, focused in my crotch, and I felt my back arch upward as a rush of warmth overcame me, simultaneously causing me to spasm and twitch against Glory's finger which was now lodged in my vagina....

I collapsed, overcome by exertion, and struggled to catch my breath. I opened my eyes and glanced at the enema bag which hung, limp and empty, from the wall lamp.

I panted..."Wow!!... That was something else!" I looked dreamily at Glory, who merely smiled back.

As I caught my breath and my presence of mind returned, I was reminded of the volume of water which resided inside of me. It was then that I started: "Um...I need...."

Glory gently but expeditiously removed the nozzle from my anus. then reached over and helped me get up.

"Go on, sweetie..." she said, as I hurried to the bathroom. As I went, I passed by a full length mirror which, I suspected, showed a prediction of what I would look like as an expectant mother.

I came out from the bathroom a few minutes later, empty, relaxed, spent, and satisfied. The bedroom was empty, as was the living room. I knew that being on the top floor of this high-rise building afforded privacy, so I ventured out to the terrace, where I found Glory relaxing in the hot tub, which steamed and bubbled invitingly. I saw that she had opened a second bottle of wine and that she had brought my glass with her. When she saw me, she beckoned: "C'mon!!!.... the water's fine!"

I silently reveled in the warmth that the hot tub proffered. Glory sat across from me, still naked, head leaned back, dreamily perspiring, beads of sweat glistening from her face. She reached to the rim of the tub and took up her wine glass. She sipped, paused, eyes closed, then returned her glass to the deck. Finally, her gaze met mine. She smiled warmly.

"Well?"

I stammered: "I...you...I....WOW!!!"

"I take it you enjoyed yourself..." She remarked.

"I..." I gaped, "...WOW!...It was awesome!"

"Was it, now?" Glory looked at me quizzically.

I saw the expression on her face prompting me to take stock of my most recent experience.

"I...You...you..." I stammered.

"No, I'm not a lesbian." she said. I don't believe in labeling people just because they show love and caring, just because they enjoy their own sexuality."

She paused, then continued: "I don't believe there's room in our language for words or terms like 'homosexual', 'bisexual', or 'heterosexual'.... If I were to label myself, it would be as 'sexual', which means I enjoy the pleasures my body can give me, and I enjoy prompting others, regardless of gender, to enjoy the pleasure of their sexuality."

Glory continued: "What I mean is...If I can connect with, or relate to, a person, regardless of gender, and If I care for that person, I don't see a problem with having a loving relationship with him or her."

She paused, waiting for her last statement to sink in.

I ventured: "And the enemas..."

She interrupted. "Enemas are procedures which promote and enhance health, but which also can be sexually pleasurable." Glory paused. "You expressed a curiosity about enemas, and I chose to give you some qualified information and instruction with regard to them. I must confess that I used enemas as an inducement to get you here, because I also care about you, and I felt you'd be scared off if I didn't have a credible reason to ask you here."

Glory stopped talking.

I mulled over what she had just confessed. I sat there, expressionless, as Glory rose from the tub and adjourned indoors, and slowly finished my wine.

After a few minutes, I got out of the Jacuzzi and dried myself off. Then I slowly and quietly, albeit resolutely, joined Glory in bed, where we slept, peacefully cuddling, for the rest of the night.

QQQuixote LaMancha
qqquixote@yahoo.com

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