Jeff came slowly awake, vaguely aware of the
sound of his mother's voice in the next room. As the
fog of sleep cleared from his mind, he realized that
she was on the telephone.
"This is the second day I've kept him home
from school. I'm wondering whether I should call the
doctor."
No, Jeff thought during the pause in his
mother's conversation, you shouldn't. I'm not that
sick.
"Well, he just says his stomach doesn't feel
good."
Another pause.
"No. I took his temperature this morning and
it was normal." A shorter pause. "No, he hasn't
vomited. He just says his tummy doesn't feel good."
A slightly longer pause.
"Well, now, I'm not sure. Just a second."
Louder now: "Jeff, have you had a bowel movement
today?"
"No, Mom." Geez, what a question. Who the
hell is she talking to about my bowels, anyway?
"No, he hasn't. Do you think I should give
him a laxative? I've got milk of magnesia, and I
believe there are some Correctol tables in the
cabinet."
Pause.
"Oh, I see. No, I don't have one here. But
I'm going out. I can buy one at the drug store, I
suppose. I don't know if he'll cooperate though.
You know how teenage boys are."
Another pause. Who IS she talking to?
"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that." Pause.
"Well ... if you're sure it wouldn't be too much
trouble. I don't want to impose."
Now what?
"You're so sweet. Listen, I have to run out
to pick up some things at the dry cleaner's and then
stop by the grocery store. But if you're sure you
don't mind. He's in bed, so just let yourself in.
I'll leave the kitchen door unlocked. OK, thanks
honey. I'll tell him. Bye."
In a moment, Jeff's mother appeared in the
doorway.
"Jeff, honey, I've got to run some errands.
I'll be out for a while. Marie Crawford is coming
over to see you. She used to be a nurse, so whatever
she says, I want you to cooperate. OK?"
Marie Crawford! Good God!
"Yeah, OK, Mom," Jeff said, feigning indif-
ference.
Marie coming here? Lord in heaven. Marie
Crawford was a 37-year-old divorcee who lived down
the block. Jeff had recently taken to stopping by
her house whenever he saw her working in her flower
beds. Marie usually wore a loose halter top that
afforded Jeff a splendid view of her full breasts,
swaying and jiggling with her exertions. He would
gab away with her, casually slumped over the handle
bars of his bike, all the while cockily assuming
that she was unaware of the expanse of bosom that
she was revealing to his keen gaze.
Jeff would have been astounded to learn that
from her vantage point on the ground, Marie had en-
joyed her own little show. One day, her eye had caught
a movement beneath the leg of his gym shorts. Jeff
wasn't wearing underpants, and Marie had spent a half
hour eyeing his penis and marveling at its inordinate
size.
She had decided that very day that, somehow,
she must find a way to get her hands on this robust
specimen of young manhood. And now, like a blessing
from heaven, Jeff's mother had given her the perfect
opportunity.
About fifteen minutes after Jeff's mother left
to run her errands, Jeff heard the kitchen door open.
"Jeff? Are you home?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "I'm in my room"
Marie breezed down the hallway and into his
room as if this were an everyday occurrence. Jeff's
eyes swept over her. She was wearing white terry-cloth
shorts that fit loosely and had a puffy elastic waist-
band. Topping this off was a pink blouse with the
shirttail tied in a square knot, accentuating her
bosoms and leaving her trim midriff exposed.
Strolling to his bed, she set down the paper
bag she was carrying and sat on the edge of the bed.
She eyed him professionally.
"Your mother said you haven't been feeling
well, honey. What seems to be the problem?"
I just feel kind of sick," Jeff said. "My
stomach doesn't feel too good."
"I see," she said. "Well, let's just have a
look." She raised his pajama top and began pressing
gently about his abdomen. Jeff marveled at the silky
feel of her hand on his bare skin.
"Does it hurt when I press on it?" she asked.
"No, ma'am."
Marie continued her examination. When her
fingers flipped beneath the elastic waistband of his
pajama bottoms, Jeff tensed up.
"Did that hurt?" she asked.
"No, ma'am."
Marie probed under the elastic, inching
downward until her fingertips brushed the soft edge
of pubic hair.
"When was the last time you moved your bowels,
hon?"
Jeff's faced flushed. "I don't know. I guess
it was a couple of days ago."
"I see," she said, nodding. "I think that
explains why you don't feel so well. You're consti-
pated and probably need something to help you go to
the bathroom. What I'm going to do, honey, is give
you an enema to wash your tummy out. You'll feel
better after you have a bowel movement. Have you
ever had an enema, Jeff?"
He blushed deeply. "I don't think so ...well,
maybe when I was little. I think Mom gave me one with
one of those little squeeze things." Jeff's cheeks
burned at the thought of Marie probing him in that
area.
"Those little squeeze things are for babies
and small children," Marie explained in a voice as
soft and light as the air itself. "I brought an enema
bag with me." She indicated the paper sack on the
floor. "You're big enough now to take an adult-size
enema, hon." Boy, are you big enough, she thought,
recalling the view beneath those loose shorts.
"Just relax here for a few minutes while I go
in the kitchen and get it ready. I'll fix some warm
soapy water and we'll give you a good washing out."
Jeff stirred uneasily. "I don't think I need
that," he said, embarrassed. "I'll be OK."
Marie laid her hand on Jeff's abdomen. "I know
you don't want to, honey," she said in soothing tones
as soft as a whisper. "One time when I was about your
age, my mother had to give me an enema, and I didn't
like the idea at all. She used to call it 'Mother's
little helper.' But after she gave it to me, I really
did feel better. I promise you it won't hurt. OK,
honey?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jeff said.
Marie smiled. "Good," she said as she gave
his abdomen a few gentle strokes. As she rose, she
brushed her fingers lightly down the front of his
pajama pants and felt the thick, warm tube beneath
the fabric. Jeff flinched violently but pretended
not to notice.
He lay there listening as Marie ran water in
the kitchen. In a few minutes, she appeared in the
bedroom door holding the bulging red enema bag and
coiled hose.
"Why don't you come with me into the bathroom,
Jeff," she said. "I think I'd better work on you in
there."
Work on me! Good God!
Jeff obediently climbed out of bed and followed
her down the hall. He watched as Marie hung the bag on
the hook behind the door. Then she turned to him.
"We'll have to take these off." Marie hooked
her fingers over the waistband of his pajama pants and
in one smoothe motion whisked them down over his hips,
letting them fall around his ankles.
((Her breath caught and she felt a thump in her
groin as she gazed at the thick penis dangling heavily
below his pajama top. The soft, plum-capped tube shown
stark white under the fluorescent lights, and she could
see fine blue veins standing out under its sheath of
translucent skin. Marie could barely suppress the
desire to kneel, take that ripe plum in her mouth, and
tongue the magnificent organ into taut, trembling
stiffness.))
"Now there's nothing to be embarrassed about,"
she said, seeing his face color a deep red. Marie spoke
as much to her own embarrassment as to Jeff's. "I used
to be a nurse, and I've given enemas to lots of male
patients. Besides, there's no one here but the two of
us."
Marie knelt and patted the soft rug. "Why don't
you lie down here for me, on your back." Moving like a
robot and feeling like one, Jeff awkwardly lowered him-
self to the floor and lay back. He watched as Marie
took a towel from a rack and folded it into a compact
pad.
"Raise up just a little, honey, and let me
slip this under your hips. There. Now, I want you to
pull your feet up and rest them flat on the floor."
Jeff followed her instructions. His buttocks
now rested on the pad about two inches above the rug.
Marie stood and turned, lifting onto her toes as she
searched in the medicine cabinet and found a jar of
Vaseline. Jeff looked up the loose legs of her shorts,
eyeing the roll of her bottom bulging softly out of
the stretch-lace edge of her panties.
Marie turned and dipped a delicate finger into
the Vaseline. Her eyes met Jeff's. He was mesmerized
as he watched her run her finger up and down the
tapered black nozzle, turning and dabbing until the
obscene little shaft was glistening with lubricant.
"We're all set," she said lightly as she knelt
beside him. "Let's have you move your feet a little
further apart - that's fine. Now, I'll insert the
syringe and we can get started. This is going to take
a little while. I'm going to give it to you slowly so
you don't get cramps."
Jeff's thick penis hung down between his legs,
almost touching the floor. He flinched as Marie deftly
grasped it and lifted, exposing the target.
"Just relax, honey," she breathed. "This isn't
going to hurt."
She bent her head between his knees, and Jeff
felt the rounded syringe tip probing ever so gently into
his anus, which he unconsciously constricted.
"Try to relax your bottom just a little," Marie
coaxed softly. Jeff tried to focus on loosening the
right muscle and was startled when the syringe suddenly
slipped up his rectum.
"There," Marie sighed with satisfaction. Jeff
heard a soft click as she released the clasp on the
rubber tube, and he immediately felt the warm soap
solution spurting into his rectum.
Marie was still lightly holding his penis up,
and he was mortified to feel her fingers moving about
on the heavy, limp shaft. It couldn't be! She's playing
with it, feeling me up! Good GOD!
Jeff desperately tried to concentrate his
thoughts elsewhere ... playing basketball, riding his
bike, mowing the lawn. Oh, God, he prayed, don't let
me get a hard on!
But the slippery little nozzle penetrating his
rectum and the spreading warmth of the enema combined
with Marie's gently shifting fingers to produce the
one effect that Jeff dreaded most ... and the one
effect that Marie had every intention of producing.
His penis began to swell and throb, stretching and
thickening far beyond its flaccid dimensions, quickly
attaining such proportions that Marie's slender
fingers could barely encircle it.
Jeff wanted to say something by way of
explanation or apology, or perhaps just to distract
Marie's attention from what she could hardly fail to
notice. But all he could manage was a little groan
deep in his throat.
"You don't need to feel embarrassed, honey,"
she said softly, looking into his eyes. "You've got
an erection, but that's normal for males. Did you
know that even little boys get an erection when you
give them an enema? It used to happen all the time
when I was a nurse on the pediatric wing. Sometimes
they would get hard just from a rectal thermometer.
It's a very sensitive area."
Jeff tried to reply but only made a little
rasping sound. He was literally speechless from the
combined effects of erotic stimulation and profound
embarrassment.
Marie was in awe that the boy's soft, rubbery
organ could so quickly rise bolt upright. It felt as
think and as hard as an ax handle in her delicate hand.
Her mind reeled, and she wanted to simply stand, peel
off her shorts and panties, and settle herself astride
him, flaring her hips and allowing that massive stake
to be slowly, deliciously engulfed in the tender
passage that was, at this moment, dripping lubricious
juices through her panties and soaking the crotch of
her shorts.
She looked into Jeff's eyes and smiled.
"Don't worry. We nurses know all about THESE
things," she said, giving his penis a squeeze on
"these." "An enema causes sexual tension down here,
so it's normal for you to be aroused by it. In fact,"
her voice dropped to a stage whisper, "don't tell
anyone, but when I give myself an enema, it turns me
on, too. I had to take one just a few days ago. I
always get worked up when that nozzle goes up in me."
Jeff's mind reeled at the thought of Marie
probing her beautiful bottom with this very syringe.
It added a strange sense of intimacy to the moment.
"And remember," Marie continued, "there's not
a soul here but us, Jeff, and I promise I won't say a
word to anyone about this. You're mother won't know a
thing about it. OK?" Another little squeeze for
emphasis.
Jeff gave her a tight little smile and squeaked
out, "OK."
Marie ran her fingers up and down the enormous
shaft, which was now standing rigidly upright without
any need of assistance from her.
"If I tell you sometime very personal, Jeff,
will you keep it between us?"
"Sure," Jeff whispered.
"Well, when I give myself an enema and all that
sexual tension builds up in me, I find that it helps if
I masturbate and release the tension. Would you like me
to help you release that tension?"
"OK," Jeff croaked, his mind spinning as if he
were whirling through outer space.
"I'll just do this a little," Marie said. "And
remember, I won't say a word to anyone."
Marie began gently pumping his penis, delirious-
ly aghast at its length and thickness. She inspected
the swollen purple head, noting with satisfaction its
hooded, tapered shape, not unlike the head of a boa
constrictor she remembered from the biology lab when
she was in college.
Good God! Jeff thought. She's beating me off!
His hips wiggled as tingling, crawly sensations surged
through his groin.
Still holding the enema syringe with one hand,
Marie snugged its tapered hilt against Jeff's tightly
clinched anus and rotated it to and fro, sending a new
wave of sensations up Jeff's spine. She stepped up the
tempo of her pumping with the other hand.
"I know that feels delicious, Jeff," she said.
"Just enjoy it and forget about everything else. You
need to release that tension." Marie let go of the
syringe, which was securely clinched in Jeff's
sphincter, and cupped his scrotum in her hand, letting
her fingers gently bobble his warm, heavy balls around
in their jellied sack.
Her right hand was pumping rapidly now, but
with a surprisingly gentle grip. She closed her hand
around he testicles and pressed her bunched fingertips
into the meaty tissue under his scrotum. Jeff closed
his eyes and arched his back, breathing rapidly through
his nose.
"That's fine, Jeff," Marie said breathlessly.
"Just go with it, hon." Her hand was flashing up and
down in a blur. Jeff felt as though worms were churning
down through his belly and into his groin, burrowing
furiously beneath the base of his penis. The enema tip
made his anus tingle unbearably, as if it were electri-
cally charged. Never had he experienced such blindingly
erotic sensations.
Suddenly Jeff arched his back and gasped
violently as a thick stream of semen erupted into the
air and fell with an audible slap on his belly. Marie's
breasts rose and fell with her breathing as she watched
the huge purple head throb and erupt again and again,
bathing her hand in thick, pearly fluid. Never had she
witnessed an orgasm of such volume.
Marie slowed her pump with the tempo of Jeff's
breathing, milking the huge shaft of its last drops of
semen. Jeff turned his head away and kept his eyes
closed, utterly consumed, utterly spent. In that state
of sweet oblivion, Jeff did not see Marie's hand slip
between her legs, didn't see her fingers knead her
crotch -- didn't see her head fall back and her lips
part in an ecstatic grimace as wave after orgasmic
wave washed over her...