Mrs. Arnold

He went to the bathroom cabinet to get an aspirin, or better yet, an Alka Seltzer, but he was out.

His hangover felt awful. His head was beginning to pound and he could feel himself beginning to lose grip.

Maybe the woman across the way had some aspirin, he mused, and he hurried to the door of his apartment. As he opened the front door the cool air of the vestibule temporarily revived him. He knocked firmly on the door of the neighbor he knew only as Mrs. Arnold, the widow. 

"Yes? . . ." She peered into the hallway with the door open just a crack. Then she recognized him and invited him in. 

"You look awful. Did you have a late night?" she asked as she showed him into the living room.

"Oh, yes," he said. " And I drank too much. Do you have any aspirin or Alka Seltzer? I have run out of both and forgot to get some.

"I do, but you know what's even better for a hangover?" She paused and looked him directly in the eye.

"No, what?" he queried.

"An enema. A warm, gentle enema. It will flush all the remaining poisons out, and leave you relaxed and peaceful."

"Sounds great," he responded. "I've never had one. What do I do?"

Mrs. Arnold immediately took charge of the situation. "Just come on in here to the bedroom and take your shoes and pants off. I'm going to get a towel and the enema equipment."

He felt strange, being there in her bedroom, and a little embarrassed about taking off his pants in front of a virtual stranger, but since his head was beginning to feel better already, he decided to trust her.

He was just lowering his pants when she came back into the room and spread out a large colored beach towel on the bed. "Now just lie down, on your side, with your behind facing me. I'll just get the enema bag." She disappeared again.

He lay down, feeling self-conscious about his naked backside. When she returned she told him to try and relax, and she wiped his crack with something cold, something that became slippery as her finger moved back and forth. Suddenly he felt something strange happening, something going slowly into his asshole, and he sucked his breath in.

"That's the way, baby, now just let yourself feel how nice and warm the water is. Just relax." And he could see her move her hand over to the clamp which held the water back.

She released the dam and within seconds he could feel an incredible warmth begin to move into him, filling him up, making him feel like he had a gigantic bowel movement inside. He squirmed and noticed his penis was beginning to rise. Turning his head to look up at her, he saw that she was closing off the tube with her fingers, at least partially. The full sensation began to subside, so he relaxed and reached down to touch his dick, which was full size by now.

Suddenly he felt a cramp in his abdomen, and he cried out.

"Just relax. Here, straighten your legs out." Mrs. Arnold reached over and began to massage his abdomen. "Close your eyes and feel the warmth."

"I can't!" he responded in agitation. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Sshh . . . . There now, that's better." And she clasped her hand around his dick. "Just relax for a few more minutes."

Feeling her hand on his dick surprised him, and the urge to go subsided for a moment. In its place was a strong desire to come. He felt her pull the enema tip out of his anus and squeeze his buttocks together. The hand on his cock stroked faster and faster, until unexpectedly he ejaculated with more force than he ever had. When his body had stopped convulsing from the orgasm, he felt her helping him into the bathroom, keeping his buttocks close together until he reached the toilet.

"I'll leave you alone now to do your business. There's reading material in the rack."

Half an hour later he emerged, feeling rejuvenated and fresh. He thanked Mrs. Arnold for being so neighborly, and gave her a big hug.

"Let me know if you ever have a headache or hangover, and I'll be glad to return the favor," he told her as he walked out the door.

(from Enema Fantasies)