The tape rewound in the VCR as I stood up to stretch. The steamy movie had
afforded ample reason to get turned on. I thought Jenny was going to come
just before the end but she didn't. Getting worked up and enjoying the
release of tensions was the main reason for watching these rented and
borrowed movies. Some of our classmates `went all the way' but I'd only
managed to get her bra off and a hand in her pants. We'd agreed that `real
sex' was too risky for college folks, but everything else short of that was
fair game. Her apartment in the basement of an old house was ideal for fun
and games. The private entrance and virtual isolation from the rest of the
house meant we were left alone and `unwatched.' Short of tearing the place
apart, we could do as we wanted. It was spring break and we both had time to
kill. I was hoping for an adventure, but had no plans or ideas.

I felt something was different while I was taking a leak. There was a shadow
behind the shower curtain. It turned out to be a fountain syringe dangling
from one of the curtain hooks. It seemed new. Curious, I looked it over,
imagining where the wet nozzle had recently resided. Well, at least she was
keeping herself `clean and fresh' as the adds put it.

The label on an empty box in the wastebasket also caught my eye - Folding
Syringe for Douche and Enema. I'd noticed them in stores but had never had a
close look at one. The sides and back were covered with little drawings and
instructions. When I turned it over, a plastic tube fell out onto the
counter. The parts diagram identified it as the enema nozzle. I read the
panel that told how to use it and examined the drawings closely. This was
all new information for me. I wondered why she was throwing away the enema
part. She'd made coffee and was dishing up ice cream when I joined her in
the kitchen. There were several more movies to see and we needed energy.

"I noticed your new syringe," I said, indicating curiosity. Jenny is bit
older than me and often finds my blunt inquiries humorous. I've learned to
simply ask when I want to know something, even intimate things.

"Ya, my old bulb syringe got a leak so I got a bag to replace it with. Why?"

"Well," I hesitated, embarrassed, "I read the stuff on the box and wondered
why you threw away the enema part. Is there something wrong with it?"

"No, I just don't need it," she said, closing the ice cream carton.

"Oh," I mumbled, still wondering. "Have you ever had an enema?"

"No," she shot back just a tad testily, "do you know what it does?"

"According to the box, it squirts water in your ass."

"Yup, and that makes you shit. Kind of like instant laxative," she said,
handing me coffee and a bowl of ice cream. "I take it you haven't had one
either."

"Never even knew what it did until now," I replied heading for the living
room, "only heard people joke about it. Do they hurt?"

"I don't think so, its just water, ya know," she said taking a cassette off
the stack and stuffing it into the VCR. The movie started but my mind
wandered.

"If they're like instant laxative and they don't hurt, and all you need is
water, how come people don't use enemas instead of laxatives?" I said, half
to myself.

"For Pete's sake, Matt, why don't you go have one and find out!"

I focused on ice cream and the movie and didn't answer. Then a scene in the
movie gave me an idea. "Let's both do it and find out if it works the same
for men and women!" I suggested, figuring I'd both learn about a taboo
subject and get to see Jenny in the buff with the lights on as part of the
adventure. "I'll even let you put the tube into me and turn it on," I
offered.

"And shit it all out while I watch?" she asked in a half mocking tone.

"Ya, and I'll do the same for you. What'a ya say? Its something new to do!"

"Go get the box. I want to see what it says," she said as if giving in to a
kid.

She read the instructions, rereading some of them more than once. She also
gave the drawings showing positions for getting an enema careful attention,
twisting around a little as if trying them out. The figure of a person on
hands and knees, but with his head on the floor and ass in the air appealed
to me - what a view it would provide! She seemed most interested in the
figure getting it while laying on its back. Lots of potential for exposure
there, too.

"Do you understand what this means?" she asked, holding up the box. "It
looks to me like you have to do it three times, once in each position and
then more until the water comes back out of you clear. See?" She pointed to
the last line on the back: `For complete cleansing, repeat until returns are
clear.'

"That's at least three bags full, maybe more. I'm not going to do more than
the basic three positions, even if I'm not completely clean. Three is enough
for me. Period!" She was into her deal making mode, wanting to nail things
down.

"Uh-huh, so what's your bottom line," I prodded, pleased that she was into
the project for at least the basic part.

"You heard it, big boy, I'll do it three times. No more. And I'll do it to
you until the water comes out clear. And you go first `cuz its your idea."

"What if the water won't come out clear. Having to do it over and over could
be boring. My maximum is five. That should be enough," I said, closing a
potential loophole in the deal.

"Make it six - twice in each position - and you have a deal," she replied.

"Deal. Lets go do it!" I said, unbuckling my pants. She went into the
bathroom carrying the box while I stripped off the rest of my clothes. Water
ran and the toilet flushed before I arrived to find her standing barefoot in
her panties and bra. My pecker finished its rise to full attention as I
stared at her. She was excited, too. Stiff nipples poked at her bra from
inside.

My enthusiasm diminished when I noticed the fountain syringe hanging behind
her in the middle of the shower curtain rod. It had been transformed from
its former slender flatness to a gross, sagging bag full of water. "How much
did you put in there," I said in an accusing tone, suspecting a trick.

"Two quarts," she said, looking puzzled, "its a two- quart bag just like it
says on the box. I measured it with that pitcher."

"Oh. OK. Fine," I stammered, mentally comparing the bag to my belly.

"Not getting cold feet, are you?" she teased.

"No, no, just double-checking," I answered, suddenly feeling uncertain.

"Good! Lay down on your left side and I'll give it to you," Jenny ordered,
putting the box on the counter and pointing to the towel she'd spread on the
floor.

As I settled, knees bent in the prescribed manner, I glanced at the bag. It
looked huge and threatening. My heart started pounding when she pushed the
plastic tube through my asshole. In a moment she'd be satisfying my
curiosity about having an enema.

I heard a snap and warmth flooded me. "Uhhh..." I groaned. Another snap and
motions inside me stopped.

"Did that hurt? I didn't mean to make it hurt," her concerned voice said.

"No, I was surprised by the force and warmth."

"OK," came the distant reply from behind me. I heard a quiet pop and then
felt warmth creeping into me slowly. A fullness grew and then faded as I
felt the warmth move inward. This wasn't bad. Water rushing through the tube
in my ass felt good and so did the growing warm pressure inside me. I knew
for sure that I'd be needing the toilet in front of me pretty soon. A
clicking sound signaled another stop in the flow.

"Turn onto your back for the next part," she said quietly. I rolled to my
back and could just make out the water level through yellowish rubber sides
of the bag hanging above me. The hose ran up to it in a nearly straight line
Jenny eased open the control and I both felt and saw the enema resume. The
sensation was different. Warmth spread all over my middle and I knew I was
being filled. A couple of times it felt like a turd was bouncing around.

"Turn to your right side for the finish," she ordered without stopping the
flow. "How does it feel?"

"It feels good, especially at my asshole, kind of vibrating from the flow."

It seemed different yet again. My right side was tight with pressure and I
could see it swollen and sticking out. It was uncomfortable, but not
painful. I had all I wanted, felt stuffed, and craned my neck to see the
bag. "Just a little bit left to go," she whispered. It kept coming and I
started feeling panicky - very warm, tight, uncomfortable, on the verge of
being in pain. A sucking sound echoed around the room and the flow stopped.
I was breathing a little hard. Jenny rolled me to my back and then onto my
left side again. Water sloshed inside me and the look on her face told me
she'd heard it too. She pulled the tube out of me and I clambered onto the
toilet. A big gush of water and turds burst out, providing quick relief from
the overall pressure. Then a series of smaller and shorter gushes started
that went on for several minutes. Each one signaled departure of enema water
and shit. I was surprised at the volume of both.

"Well, how was it? Was it what you expected?" she asked eagerly, watching me
evacuate from her seat on the side of the tub. A look of expectant, even
hopeful, concern hung on her face.

"It was good, better than I thought it would be. I was a little scared when
I saw the bag filled so full, but it all fit - a tight fit, but I took it
all. And it certainly did make me shit, just like you said it would. That
felt great, a big relief."

She looked relieved herself. I'd done it so she could do it, too. Her
concern vanished. She quickly refilled the bag and straightened the towel. I
wiped myself, pulled the handle and stood up. The swirling mess caught her
eye and held it until clear water filled the bowel.

"That really did knock the shit out of you. Are you sure it didn't hurt?"

"I got awfully full, but it didn't hurt. Ready to do it again?"

She nodded and I got down on all fours for the ass-in- air position. She
pushed the tube in right up to the flat flange and started it without
comment. It went OK for a while, but the water pooled just below my ribs and
made it hard to breathe as more and more rushed in. There was no pressure at
my ass, just deep inside. It was much less comfortable than the first one. I
wanted to stop, but she assured me it was almost done, three times before
the empty noise finally sounded. I didn't wait for the tube removal, but
went straight to the toilet and spit it out with the first departing gush.

The first part of the return was clear. But then a steady dribble of soupy
shit started that went on and on, punctuated with a couple of farts. Once
again, the toilet was filled with lumpy brown crap from my guts. Jenny
watched the second mess disappear down the drain and then hurried me back to
the floor.

I got to watch the entire bag drain into my bowels, feeling increasing
fullness and tension inside me as it shriveled and shrank. I knew what was
happening from start to finish and exactly how much remained to charge down
the hose and through my asshole. It was thrilling and scary as my belly
visibly swelled while more water waited above me to enter.

My dick was up hard for the whole thing. Jenny was clearly intrigued by the
sight with my legs flopped wide open, dong bobbing in time with my heart,
and balls hanging down in my crotch. At one point I almost ejaculated. She
noticed the twitch and smiled broadly. I now knew that an enema might make
me cum.

The expulsion was a non-stop version of the second, complete with a
splattering run of crap toward the end. The fourth and fifth enemas were
much the same, although less shit departed with each one. I was glad I'd set
an upper limit on the number I'd have because the process was becoming both
tiring and boring.

Jenny perked up for the last one. I was on my back again. She seemed to take
particular satisfaction in watching my gut swell and rise, hearing me
quietly panting against the growing load, and seeing my engorged cock on
full display. The dump ended with still more crap falling out of me. It
probably would have taken two or three more fillings to get a completely
clear return. But I was done, felt great and a bit lighter, and was all set
to return Jenny's favors.

"Well, what do you think now of your grand adventure into enema land?" she
asked while I drained out.

I thought for a moment and then said, "Great. I'm glad I did it and I think
you'll enjoy it, too. Its your turn. Ready?"

She looked reluctant and I thought she might back out. But after a long
pause during which she fiddled with the nozzle in her hand, she finally
looked up at the empty bag, over at me, and then nodded without a word.
There was another silent pause and then she washed the nozzle, filled the
bag, and slipped off her panties. While I cleaned myself up and flushed the
toilet, she slowly laid down in front of me. Delicious! I was anxious to see
her response to being filled up.

I pulled up her bun, fully exposing her asshole and forcing it to open
slightly, just enough to provide the starting point for pushing the nozzle
into her. The whole thing disappeared and then she grabbed at it
reflexively, squeezing and relaxing over and over. "Feels good, doesn't it,"
I asked.

"Mmmm," she hummed back.

"OK, here it comes," I said, slowly releasing the clamp.

"Ohhhhh, ohhh, oh," she moaned after a few seconds. I put my hand on her
belly. It was stiff with tension.

"Relax, relax," I encouraged, "don't resist it, just let it flow in," I went
on, patting her lightly.

Slowly, gradually I felt her abdomen soften and begin filling. She'd resumed
flexing her anus, making a grunting `uhh' with each squeeze. I watched the
bag shrink and stopped the flow so she could get on her back.

"There's so much left," she moaned, eyes wide with surprise at the
still-bloated appearance of the bag.

"The first part was the hardest. The rest of it goes in more easily," I
murmured to her. "Take a couple of deep breaths and then I'll start it
again."

She sucked in several deep breaths. I started the flow again and she laid
very still, watching the water level drop. Her legs opened in reaction to
her filling, a marvelous view of what I had only touched before. She turned
onto her right side without prompting to get the last part. A long gurgling
sound ran through her gut. She groaned quietly and then said, "Ahh, that's
better." A moment later...

"Oh! Oh! Uhhhh! Stop it, Matt, I'm full!" she squeaked.

"Just a bit more to go," I answered, just as she had to me.

"No, no! I can't hold it. No more, no more!"

I checked the bag and while I was looking up a little spurt of water shot
out of her around the nozzle. And then another. I got a handful of water
catching the loose nozzle and closed the clamp. Leaking and dripping, I
helped her onto the toilet and stood back while she pushed a wave into the
bowl with a noisy, grunting, groan. She hunched lower and lower with each
succeeding surge, groaning with each effort. Plops and splashes signaled the
effect of the enema Silence returned to the bathroom, broken only by
occasional dribbles into the toilet. I thought she'd call it quits and
refuse to go on.

"Gees, that was great, Matt, fantastic! All that crap rushing out was
wonderful. I've never felt anything like it, but I want to feel it again."

Jenny eagerly accepted the nozzle for her second enema. She took it silently
at first, but started groaning again when her ass-in-the-air position caused
a growing weight and fullness in her middle. She thanked me when I released
her bra, making breathing just a bit easier. Erect nipples betrayed her
state of arousal, lending an additional meaning to her groans - she enjoyed
being filled.

She took more, but once again she couldn't handle the whole bag. This time I
stopped the enema at her first request. The towel got wetter, but not by
much. Her dump ran almost non- stop, accompanied by a lot of panting and
grunting. Toward the end the gush was again punctuated with plops and
splashes, turning her grunts into satisfied `Ahhhs'.

Her third filling went quickly and quietly. She hummed and moaned to
herself, holding her swelling gut in her hands. As the last of the water
shot into her I reached down and stroked her glistening pussy.

"Yes!" she rasped, "get me off!"

I obliged and was treated to a massive, sloshing orgasm. She thrust against
my hand, pushing her protruding belly upward with a lot of force, panting,
gasping, and sweating profusely. At the end she leaked again, soaking the
towel before regaining control.

It was quite a while before she pulled herself together enough to climb on
the toilet. More time passed as she slowly released the slop in her guts,
savoring the sensations throughout. Finally, she sat up straight on the can,
stuck out her chest, and announced with a smile, "I'm going to give you
another enema that'll make you come like a he-goat. I owe you a thrill like
the one you just gave me and I think I've figured out how to do it! You
won't even have to wear a rubber. With the mess we have here, a little more
won't matter."

She always made me wear a condom when she jacked me off. I didn't want
another enema, and especially one that'd make me cum. But she insisted.
Rather than ruin the experience with an argument, I gave in and agreed to
let her do it.

A dry towel replaced the soggy one. I was on my back, staring up at the full
bag and wondering why this enema would make me cum. Part of the answer
appeared when she replaced the enema nozzle with the douche nozzle. It was
bigger, longer, and bent a little about half way down its length.

"Why are you using that," I asked, curious and apprehensive.

"To give your prostate gland a nice, hot shower. Remember your anatomy
class? This, and that bag of water, should send you into ecstasy!"

I didn't remember, but then I wasn't as good at making connections between
things as she was. In any case, I was about to find out if she was right
because the nozzle was sliding in. The greater bulk felt good and so did the
slow entry. My penis, already firm, grew larger and throbbed in
anticipation. Jenny was turned on, too, and opened the clamp with a flick of
her thumb.

A hot fountain erupted just inside my asshole. The sideways spray of the
douche nozzle swathed my rectum in heat which grew more intense as the flood
continued. The hot nozzle made my anus flex. I swallowed hard, and gasped in
shock, groaning with each short breath.

"Oh... oh... oh... its so hot!" She slowly slid the nozzle all the way in
and then back again. The spray splattered on a sensitive spot and triggered
the twinge of excitement that precedes ejaculation. "Aaaaaaah, ah, ah," I
gasped.

She held the nozzle on that spot. My pelvis started thrusting upward and I
knew jizz was about to burst forth. Asshole flexing wildly, pelvis jerking,
I fired my wad into the air and followed it with mad pumping until there was
nothing left to pump out. The tingle at the root of my pecker continued but
spasmodic pumps produced nothing. I was totally spent and slumped limp on
the floor, dimly aware that hot water was still pouring into me.

"My God, Matt," Jenny wheezed, "I've never seen anything like it. You
squirted stuff all over the place. How was it?"

"Stupendous and exhausting. I'm wiped out.. And I need to cool off."

Her response was completely unexpected - dumping more water into the bag and
resuming the enema! But it was cold water and it brought welcome coolness.
She helped me onto the toilet and kept the cold water flowing as I unloaded.
At the end of it all a little more shit spurted out.

Both of us were beat. We took a quick shower and then settled in to soak
together in the tub. After a long time we crawled off to bed.

Over breakfast the next morning Jenny allowed as how she'd had a good time
and was glad I'd suggested trying enemas. Quiet ensued while we ate. She
eyed me several times. That usually meant she had more to say. I waited.

"Matt?" she started.

"Ya?"

"I want to do it again next weekend. And I'll take as many as you do. OK?"

"Like that tickle in your asshole, eh?" I teased.

"Yes. Just as much as watching you swell up and cum like a wild man."

"Hmmm, well not so hot next time. That was uncomfortable."

"Is it a deal, then?"

"Ya, but you have to get whole bags, without leaks."

"Well," she hesitated, "OK. I'll try to find out how to hold it while at the
hospital for my volunteer work on Wednesday. I'll ask around."

`Uh-ohh,' I thought, `this may turn into more than simple bathroom fun.
Damn! What've I gotten myself into?' The adventure was taking a new turn
already.