off. She smiled to herself thinking about the surprise she’d
planned… Kurt and Grace did an enema night every now and
then, two or three times a year, usually after church on a
Sunday or on a holiday where Kurt didn’t have to go to work
at crack of dawn the next morning…but they’d never tried
anything like what Grace had secretly planned for Kurt
tonight. The two bags hung side by side from the hooks..
Hers pink and holding two quarts. His was black, a special
mail-order model from New Jersey, and weighed a ton when full
at six quarts–there were five in it now. Fortunately, Kurt
was still getting ready. Grace brought a one liter bottle of
Winners Cup vodka from the back of the closet where she’d had
it stashed for this special occasion. Glancing nervously
toward the closed bathroom door, she poured the whole thing
into the black bag which now bulged almost to overflowing.
Hurriedly she rehid the empty in the closet. Grace felt her
heart pounding–Kurt did not allow any alcohol in the house,
but she knew that just once she had to do this… The door
opened, flooding the room with harsh light from the bathroom.
Kurt stood there untying the belt to his bathrobe.
“Lucky for us Kurt Jr. had some extra, Hon. I clean
forgot it when I went shopping yesterday.” Old Prep-H was
their favorite lubrication for these occasions. Grace always
had been pile-prone and the shark oil medication seemed to
work best for working in the enema nozzles–they both
preferred it. Kurt looked around the room, his wife had
really been busy, while his only contribution was to stack
the dishwasher. “Gee, you got everything set up already, I
should have helped.” It was all there ready to go: the extra
towels, the plastic buckets. Even the Port-a-Potty had been
unfolded and put in place a few feet from the edge of the
bed. “By the way, Hon, I didn’t tell you how delicious that
turkey stuffing was you put together–I made a real pig of
myself. That enema’ll sure feel great….” With that, Kurt
involuntarily cut loose a thunderous fart. “Mercy!” giggled
the little woman, “hold your horses. You’re snortin’ and
rarin’ to go, aren’t you?”
“Better believe it.” Kurt hung the robe on the hook
of the door and flopped his big hairless body onto the rubber
sheet. His enormous uncut dick bounced against his belly and
then tilted out into space semi-erect and ten fat inches
long, the head still tucked behind his generous pink
foreskin, except for the glossy dime sized end surrounding
his piss hole. He cupped his giant elephant scrotum with its
unusually tough thick skin and fluffed himself a few times
while he watched Grace slip out of her bra and panties.
Grace had managed to keep her trim little figure; of course
her breasts sagged a bit more these days than they had on
their wedding night some 22 years ago and those small brown
nipples pointed at her feet now instead of at the ceiling,
but Kurt liked the way she looked, and her extremely thick
bush seemed to him if anything denser than ever.
The routine, a pattern developed over more two
decades of enema nights, never varied. They kissed for about
five minutes and then unceremoniously switched to a spoon
style position. Kurt’s bag was so much bigger, simply
because his abdominal capacity was greater. It also took
longer to feed and so Grace always got him started first.
Kurt propped one leg up in the air as his wife began working
the Prep-H into his crack and past his baby-tight ruby
asshole. She was greasing him up good tonight. He felt his
dick stiffen as the little woman’s finger got the knuckle
past the first sphincter. Ah this was the life! Kurt wished
he could have an enema every night. Now she was starting in
with the nozzle, Kurt offered barely any resistance and Grace
slid all six inches of it into his rectum. “Let her rip,” he
moaned as she reached for the clamp and released it. He
heard a gurgle and felt the first surge. With the weight of
a gallon and a half of fluid backing it, that initial rush
always took his breath away, but then he relaxed and went
with the flow. He could feel the liquid coursing into his
lower colon, it was a great feeling and he noticed that his
cockhead had now worked itself totally into the open at the
end of a full and glorious boner. Then he felt the first
hint of cramping… oooooohoh…Grace slid the fluted nozzle
back and forth in his asshole to divert the momentary
discomfort. Soon Kurt’s gut had accommodated its growing
load and he repositioned his leg onto the rubber sheet. It
was a signal to cut the flow for a moment and for Mr.
Schidink to start the process up on Mrs. Schidink. Kurt felt
great…almost light-headed. This was the best damned enema
he could remember. He watched his wife spread wide her
undercarriage with its masses of black wiry curls barely
revealing the intricate scrolls of her liver-colored cunt
lips and puffy puckered anus. He squeezed out some Prep-H.
Ooops too much. He pushed a glob into Grace’s anal openingf
and scraped another big glob off the red rubber which he also
lubed into her hairy crevice. He felt terrific …they were
just going to have to arrange to do this more often. The
woman’s enema nozzle was much daintier than the one lodged
inside him, even though Kurt’s rectum was teeny and his
wife’s was if anything impressive by comparison. But then
men were men and women were women and this nozzle was
especially designed for the fairer sex, just as the one
shoved up inside him was designed by that Dr. Jay in New
Brunswick especially for men–or rather “guys” (to quote the
instructions on the box).
…End of the part2. To be continued..