Chapter I

I was in the frozen foods aisle selecting a stack of frozen dinners and dumping them into the shopping cart. "Excuse me." I heard a woman's voice. "I think that's my cart you're using."

"No, I don't think so..." I looked down and saw my pile of frozen dinners commingled with ones I hadn't selected. "I guess you're right." I began transferring them to my own basket. "Sorry about that."

"If you don't mind me saying so," she said, "I think you could've made healthier choices."

I looked up at her and scanned her up and down. She was tall and slender -- a bit lanky, actually. Her face was oblong with a high forehead, a straight and slightly pointy nose, broad mouth and weak chin. She wore her long, straight brown hair parted in the middle and cascading casually over her shoulders. Her eyes were steel gray and her thick-lensed wire-frame glasses made them look a bit beady. She had a naturally tan complexion -- Mediterranean, perhaps. My overall impression: A nerdy girl, maybe a school marm or librarian.

"What's wrong with my choices?"

She took a frozen potpie from my basket and showed me the ingredients list. "Palm oil. There are healthier choices." She took a similar package from her basket. "This one's made with real butter."

"Butter is healthier than palm oil?" I asked.

"It is. It's a natural product. Palm oil is processed. Look at the amount of trans fat in yours."

"Oh. Wow," I replied.

"I avoid anything containing palm oil," she continued. "In particular I don't like what the palm oil industry is doing to the ecology of Southeast Asia."

"What's it doing?" I asked.

"Native forests are being plowed under to plant palm plantations," she replied.

I looked into her eyes. "So, you're a green girl."

"I try to be," she said with a slight smile.

"Where did you find all these?" I asked.

"Over there."

I stuffed my original selections back in the freezer case and wheeled my basket to a section of health and vegetarian items -- a section I normally bypassed. "What do you recommend?" I asked.

"It depends on what you like." She started handing me frozen packages, some of which I placed in my cart and others I handed back to her.

"You're not a vegetarian," I remarked as I looked over what was in her basket.

"No, but I do try to limit my meat consumption."

"Well, this should hold me for a week." I headed for the checkout with her following me. One lane was open with no other customers in line. "After you," I said and she began unloading her cart onto the belt.

I followed, placing items as the cashier rang the up. The nerdy girl stood to the side reviewing her receipt before stuffing it in her purse. "Well, those selections certainly are more expensive," I remarked to her as we wheeled our baskets to the parking lot.

"You get what you pay for," she replied. "I hope it didn't bust your budget."

"No... I can manage. By the way, I'm Eric. Eric Gleason."

"I'm Helen. Helen Jaffee."

"Nice to meet you, Helen. That's kind of an old-fashioned name. I don't hear it often."

"I suppose it is. I was named after my grandmother. She died of cancer shortly before I was born and my mom wanted to honor her."

"I like your name. Thanks, Helen, for pointing me in a healthier direction."

"If you want truly healthy meals," she added, "you should buy fresh raw ingredients and make them yourself. Then you know exactly what goes into them."

"Excuse me for saying this," I replied. "I don't mean to criticize, but..."

"You know, when someone says I don't mean to do X, BUT... It means they're about to do X."

"I was going to say, I don't see any fresh raw ingredients in your shopping bags."

"It's because I live alone and frozen meals simply are easier," she replied.

"Same here ... plus the fact that I'm not a very good cook."

"I do know how to cook," she said. "I spent two years at the Culinary Institute. I just don't like cooking for myself."

We wheeled our baskets toward the parking lot. "I'm parked over here," she said and pushed her cart to a silver Nissan Leaf. I saw the legend, zero emissions on the trunk.

"A Leaf," I remarked. "How do you like it?"

"I like it very much. It's great for around-town driving."

"What about road trips?" I asked.

"If I'm going on the road, I rent a car. For ninety percent of the driving I do, it's fine. In fact, where I work they have charging stations in priority parking stalls, right next to the handicap ones. I can park close-in, which is great when the weather is bad. At home I run an extension cord from an outlet on my patio out to my parking spot."

"Where do you work?" I asked.

"I'm a microbiologist at BioPharmacia," she replied.

"I'm a lab technician at Community General. I'm a supervisor, actually. You said you went to culinary school. How did you end up as a microbiologist?"

"I went to the Culinary Institute right out of high school," she explained. "I thought I wanted to be a chef. They taught me just how much hard work goes into being one. I realized I didn't have what it takes to survive in a high-pressure commercial kitchen. Then, I learned of a program to attract women into STEM studies. I did pretty well with math and science in high school, so I applied."

"And the rest is history."

"Some of the courses I took at the Culinary Institute actually transferred. I overloaded my schedule and got my B.S. in three years. Then I finished my M.S. in eighteen months. The loans were starting to pile up, so I decided to forego the Ph.D. program and landed a job at BioPharmacia."

"Do you ever get to use your culinary training?" I asked.

"Now and then -- primarily when my family comes to visit. I don't like cooking just for myself -- it's too much effort; then there's cleanup and usually leftovers I end up tossing out. I'm kind of a misfit, socially, at work..."

"Yeah, I know how that is," I added. "Besides, I think intramural relationships are fraught with danger. I avoid them like the plague."

"I agree with you there," she replied. "One of my co-workers was terminated for what he said was a misunderstanding but she said was harassment."

"You know -- I'd accept an invitation to sample your cooking ... if you were to offer one."

She regarded me for a long moment. "Eric -- are you really so forward as to fish for an invitation from someone you just met at the grocery store?"

"No, but..."

"Aha! There's the BUT again."

"You're an interesting girl ... an interesting woman ... an interesting person, Helen. I've enjoyed our conversation and I'd like to enjoy more."

"I sense your sincerity," she replied.

"Normally I wouldn't fish for an invitation, but my instinct told me it was the right thing to do."

"Are you doing anything this Saturday evening? Say, six?" she asked.

I took out my phone and consulted the calendar. "Well... I did have rearranging my sock drawer on my to-do list for then. I think I can reschedule. Let's exchange phone numbers. You can text me with your address and directions."

She took her phone from her bag and we made the entries.

"I'll text you when I get home," she said. "See you on Saturday."

"Can I bring anything? Wine, maybe?"

"I'll let you know what I decide to make," she replied, "and text that to you, too."

She opened her trunk and I helped her set her bags inside. Then I rolled my basket to my car.

Lo and behold, that evening I received a text from Helen giving her address, directions and saying she had a baked ham recipe she wanted to try. Now it was Saturday and I was headed toward her place.

I parked in the visitors' lot of a complex of squat, three-story apartment buildings. I found Helen's building and the name H Jaffee under a call button. I pressed the button.

Yes? Her voice came over the intercom.

"It's Eric."

I heard the buzzer and opened the door. Her apartment was on the ground floor and I saw her standing in the open doorway. She was wearing an above-the-knee denim skirt and a sleeveless top. "Come in," she said.

I handed her a paper bag. "I brought some wine. You said a rose..."

She removed the bottle from the bag. "A sparkling rose Cava," she remarked. "A very nice selection, Eric."

"I might not be a great cook, but I'm not a total ignoramus when it comes to food and wine. I can grill a killer burger."

"This is nice and cold," she said. "I'll put it in an ice bucket."

She stood with her back to me and I regarded her. Helen's arms and legs were slender with good muscle definition. I've always thought the backs of a girl's knees were pretty and Helen's were very sexy.

"Nice place," I remarked, looking around.

"It's okay," she replied. "I don't like being on the ground floor."

"At least you don't need to climb stairs."

"True, but I prefer the security of being on an upper level."

"How would you charge your Leaf? You'd need to toss an extension cord out a window."

"I hadn't considered that angle," she replied. "The kitchen is okay, too. Not a chef's kitchen for sure."

"It's a poor craftsman who blames his tools," I remarked.

"Maybe so, but a sharp saw cuts a cleaner line than a dull one. Dinner is almost ready. I have a small bar over there if you'd like to help yourself to a drink."

"How about I make one for you, too?"

"What did you have in mind?"

I regarded the selection of bottles. "French vermouth," I remarked. "How about a martini, dry but not too dry. I like them with French vermouth."

"That sounds lovely. I prefer French vermouth over Italian, too. There's some barware in the cabinet."

"I'm going to borrow a few cubes from your ice bucket," I said as I plunked some in her cocktail shaker. Then I measured some gin and vermouth, gently swirled it to mix them and strained the contents into a couple cocktail glasses. "You wouldn't happen to have some lemon peel? Or olives?"

"Olives in the fridge," she said.

"Here -- cheers!"

We clinked rims and she sipped from hers. "Mmm... You make a nice martini, Eric." She took another sip and lifted her face. "Mmm... Just about perfect, actually. Dry but not too dry and you let just enough ice melt to let the gin bloom."

"I told you I'm not a total ignoramus," I replied. "I actually went to bar-tender school right out of high school."

"Really? My dad was a bartender. He's the benefactor who made my little bar setup possible." She sipped more of her martini. "Dinner's ready."

"I'll man the ice bucket." Taking a couple of wine flutes from her bar cabinet I set them on the table and then popped the cork and filled the glasses.

Helen set a plate before me. "This is a roast ham en croute with a brioche crust."

I sampled the entree. "It's delicious ... sweet with a hint of heat."

"That's from hot pepper jelly," she said.

"And the Brussels sprouts... When I saw you preparing them, I though, oh, no -- not stinkballs. That's what my brother and I called them as kids. These are melt-in-your-mouth delicious. And the potatoes..."

"It's a potato gateaux," she said.

"Sliced paper-thin and arranged in layers like a pie -- and with herbs. Helen this is a restaurant-quality dinner. You could've been a great chef."

"I know I have the skills," she replied. "I just couldn't take the pressure of a commercial kitchen."

"This ham is to die for," I remarked.

"It's from a free-range farm. I get the meat from the farmer's market. Would you like some seconds? Or, maybe you'd like to save room for some dessert. I have something special planned."

"I will save room for your special dessert. Let me help you clean up a bit."

"I would like that. Thank you. I'll get coffee started."

"What is your special dessert?"

"Have a seat and you'll see."

Helen set up a tray table. On it she placed a portable, propane-fired single-burner hot plate. On this she placed a skillet. I watched her as she cooked dark bing cherries in a heavy sauce. "Cherries jubilee," I remarked.

"Exactly," she said and poured brandy into the skillet.

"That burner looks commercial grade," I remarked.

"This is one of my folk's favorites. I make it every time they come for a visit. I bought this burner so I could make it table-side."

"For dramatic effect," I remarked.

"Yeah..."With deft flicks of her wrist she tossed the contents and tilted the pan toward the flame. The brandy ignited with a FOOM! She stirred it as the blue flames dwindled and then scooped some over awaiting dishes of vanilla ice cream.

When it was time to leave I stood facing her. "That was a wonderful dinner, Helen. I really enjoyed myself."

"I had fun, too. This would've been way too much work for just myself. I like cooking for someone who appreciates it.

"Well, I like to eat," I replied.

"I also appreciated the help cleaning up."

"My pleasure. You really are a talented chef, Helen."

"Thanks. My folks were sorry when I left the Culinary Institute," she replied. "They wanted to see me run a restaurant."

"It would've been a good one. Maybe you're making a bigger contribution to humanity in your chosen career."

"It was sweet of you to say that," she replied.

"Would you be interested in getting together again?" I asked.

She smiled. "I would. I would like that, Eric."

"Do you like the outdoors? How about next Saturday, weather permitting. We could drive to Brewer Peak and hike to the summit. It's a really pretty view from there. Then we could go to my place for a barbecue -- burgers, sweet corn, the works."

"Sounds lovely. I'd need to invest in some hiking boots."

"It's an easy trail, or I wouldn't be hiking it myself. You won't need hiking boots. I'd go with my regular walking shoes."

"Okay... I do have some errands to run in the morning."

"How about I pick you up at noon?"

"Okay -- see you then."

I pulled my car into the condo complex and approached my unit. Pressing a button on the opener clipped to my visor caused the overhead door to roll up. I pulled inside, closed the garage door and led Helen into my unit. She looked around. "This is very nice. It's a townhouse, yes?"

"Yes -- two bedrooms and two and a half baths. There's a den or office upstairs that could be used as a third bedroom, but it's awfully small."

She looked around at the open plan lower level. "Gas range," she remarked. "Nice kitchen."

"There's a little deck in back. I have a gas grill out there which I'll fire up."

"If you don't mind me asking, what's the rent on a unit like this?"

"This is a condo -- I own it."

"You own it? I dream of when I can afford to buy my own place. I have to pay off my student loans, first."

"I got an Associate's certificate from the county community college," I replied. "The tuition was free to county residents and any other expenses I could afford out of pocket."

"I have a masters and I'm up to here in debt," she said. "It looks like you're doing better than I am."

"I don't know about that. I also had an inheritance from when my grandma died. That helped a lot. Say -- would you like to sample some of that growler we picked up on the way?"

"Sure."

I took down a pair of glasses and opened the jug of local micro-brew. "Here ... cheers!"

"Cheers." Helen sipped from hers. "This is very nice."

"It's an English style ale," I remarked. "Too much Belgian style beer is being brewed these days. I like a nice saisson now and then, but I don't think it always pairs well with food."

"I think I agree with you, there."

"How did you like Brewer Peak?"

"It was really beautiful. You're right -- it was an easy hike These shoes were more than adequate."

I used her remark as an excuse to look at her legs. Helen wore mid-thigh length denim cut-off shorts and a sleeveless printed button-up top. Her long hair was pulled into a ponytail. "I don't do anything but easy hikes," I replied. "I can't believe we climbed to the top of that observation tower."

"But, the view," she remarked. "I'm not afraid of heights."

"Neither am I but I am afraid of rickety structures that creak and sway in the wind." I drained my glass of ale. "I'll get the grill warming up. Maybe you'd like to shuck that sweet corn we bought at the farmer's market so I can get it steaming. What do you have in mind for those cherry tomatoes?"

"I'll slice them and mix in some oil, garlic and parsley. It makes a tomato salad."

I held up an onion. "Do you like onion on your burger? If so, raw or grilled?"

"Raw and at least a quarter inch thick."

"Raw it is."

We sat at a small bistro table on my patio. "Dining outdoors," she remarked. "I love dining outdoors. These are killer burgers, Eric. The seasoning is perfect. I think you're a better cook than you're letting on."

"Well, if I can trust you to keep a secret ... like magicians do among themselves..."

"Oh, yes," she replied. "I'd never divulge a secret. Besides, if everyone knew how to say abracadabra we wouldn't need magicians, would we?"

"Precisely. The burgers are a mix of two cuts of Angus beef -- chuck and round -- and seasoned with onion, garlic powder, salt and a splash of Worcestershire sauce."

"Worcestershire... That's what I was tasting but couldn't place. These are really delicious burgers, and a perfect medium rare. I love sweet corn and this is fresh and tender."

"Nothing beats buying it straight from the truck," I replied. "Some more brew? One problem with buying beer in a growler is that it has no shelf life. If we don't finish it, it'll be flat by morning."

"Half a glass," she said. "Beer tends to fill me up."

"This finishes it." I filled hers half way and poured the rest into mine.

"It was a lovely dinner, Eric," she said and placed her hand on her abdomen.

"Care for a stroll?" Holding hands we headed from my patio.

"It's nice and private back here," she remarked.

"The condo complex backs up against a conservancy area. Nothing can be built back here. It's one reason I chose this unit." We walked across the parking lot. "That's the common area. There's a pool and tennis courts. Do you swim?"

"I'm not much of a swimmer," she replied. "On a hot day, I do like a dip in a pool."

"The pool and tennis courts are shared by this condo complex and the one on the other side. The condo fee covers the upkeep. There's also a community center we can use for parties or events."

Still holding hands we headed back to my unit. By now the sun had set and dusk was overspreading the sky. "Helen -- do you believe in reincarnation?"

"No," she answered. "Why? Do you?"

"I'm not a firm believer, but..."

"There's that BUT again," she interjected.

"I can't believe how comfortable I am with you. It's almost like we were friends or maybe even lovers in a previous life." She cocked her head to the side and regarded me. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Eric -- you are a world class bullshitter."

"You feel it too, don't you?"

"You're right -- I do feel comfortable in your presence," she replied. "I don't think we're two old souls from previous lives. I think it simply means we're compatible ... our personalities mesh. It's chemistry..."

"Or, maybe just pure animal magnetism," I added. We reached my patio and I put my hand on the grill. "It's cool enough to cover," I remarked as I began to place a canvas cover over it.

"Let me give you a hand," Helen said and together we smoothed the canvas. I picked up our plates and glasses from the bistro table and we headed indoors.

"I had a really good time," she said. "The hike at the park was lovely and you're right -- you do grill a killer burger."

"I'm not limited just to burgers," I replied. "I can grill steaks and chops ... I do a nice grilled salmon."

Chapter II

I stood and faced her. "Do you really have to leave so early?" I asked.

"I don't want to wear out my welcome," she replied.

"Don't worry about that. The evening's still young."

"What do you have in mind?"

I approached her, stroked her cheek with the back of my finger and then kissed her lips. "I wasn't expecting that."

"I wasn't expecting it, either."

"I'm not that sort of a girl, Eric."

"What sort of a girl are you?"

"What sort of a girl do you think I am?" she asked.

"I think you're the sort who answers a question with another question ... the sort who drives a Nissan Leaf. I never met one of those before."

"I'll tell you the sort of girl I am. I'm not the sort of girl who kisses on a first date."

"Actually, this is our second date," I replied.

"Not on the second, either."

"I'll tell you the sort of guy I am. I'm the sort who would never force himself on a woman ... the sort who knows that no means no ... the sort who thinks if it isn't consensual or mutual, it's no fun ... the sort who wouldn't kiss a girl on the first or second date."

"Then why did you?" she asked.

"Helen -- I'm a creature of instinct. My instinct told me to fish for a dinner invitation and it told me to kiss you just now."

She regarded me for a long moment, her tongue moistening her lips. I could see a pulse point in her neck begin to throb. "You have damned good instincts," she finally replied.

"They've served me well. I think you're the sort of girl who makes exceptions to the rules."

"Yes ... under the right circumstances." I slipped my hand behind her head and this time instead of kissing her, we kissed each other. Then, again and again. "You're the sort of guy who knows how to kiss," she said and we kissed again, this time lingering and touching tongues.

I led her to my sofa and held her on my lap. Running my hand along her knee I savored her cool, smooth olive skin. "It's been a long dry spell for me," she said. "I haven't dated since I was in college."

"It's been a long dry spell for me, too," I replied. "How far are you willing to take this?"

"You started it," she replied. "How far do you want to take it?"

"Do you realize you just answered my question with another question?" I asked.

"Did I?" she replied, coyly.

"I want to take this as far as you're comfortable with ... and no further."

"Eric... I need to know your expectations. What are you looking for? A one-night stand? Booty calls? Or something more permanent?"

"Not a one-night stand, and I don't do booty calls. I don't have a little black book or whatever the smart-phone equivalent is these days. My instinct tells me you're ... the sort of girl who's the one for me."

"Your instinct again."

"I'm not fucking with your mind, Helen. I mean it. There's something about you that resonates in me."

"I feel that resonance, too," she replied. "Otherwise I'd be out of here."

"I have protection. I believe it's the man's responsibility to protect the woman."

"So do I," she replied. "I have an IUD. I got it when I started dating my previous boyfriend. It's good for a dozen years and about halfway through its life so I'm sure it still works. And -- I'm allergic to latex."

"We can take this as fast or as slow as you wish. You're in the driver's seat." I could see the pulse point in her neck begin to throb again. "So -- are you game? It's okay with me if you're not."

"Maybe if I had a drink to calm my nerves."

"How about if I make you the most delicious Manhattan you've ever tasted?"

"I love Manhattans," she replied, "second only to dry but not too dry martinis."

Helen accompanied me to my bar cabinet. "I think you're the sort of girl who likes real drinks, not trendy, fruity sweet ones."

"That is the sort of girl I am," she replied. "I learned to appreciate classic cocktails from my dad." I took ice from the mini-fridge's freezer and dropped it into a cocktail shaker. Then I reached for a bottle of rye. "You don't make them with bourbon?"

"I don't care for bourbon. There's a sweetness to it I don't like. I make my Manhattans with half rye and half cognac."

"That's one I haven't seen," she replied.

I added some French sweet vermouth and a dash of bitters. After a brisk shaking and straining into cocktail glasses I added maraschino cherries. "Cheers."

"Cheers," she replied and sipped from her glass. "Oh, Eric -- this is really good. I get the peppery note of the rye but the cognac smoothes it out. It's so smooth and it goes down without any fire. How did you come up with this?"

"I have a book on classic cocktails," I replied. "Classic being from the mid nineteenth century up to prohibition. This mix also make for a spectacular mint julep."

"I'll bet it does." Helen took the cherry from her glass. Holding the stem she plucked the fruit from it with her teeth. "I'll show you a trick," she said and popped the stem in her mouth. Her eyes rolled upward and I could see she was working her tongue.

She opened her mouth and I could see she tied a knot in the stem. "That's something," I remarked. "I've never seen that before."

"It's a little trick I learned as a kid."

We drained our glasses and returned to my sofa. She sat beside me and I resumed caressing her leg. "Nerves settled?" I asked.

"Almost. I am feeling the drink. Feels really good, Eric."

"Would you like another?"

"Two would be too much for me."

"How about I make one more and we split it?"

"Perfect."

Helen stood by me as I mixed another Manhattan. I strained the drink into our glasses and plopped cherries into each. "I don't need another cherry," she said.

"I want to see you do that thing with the stem again," I replied.

She sipped from her glass. "I still can't believe how good this tastes."

"It's like yin and yang. You have a muscular rye mated with a soft cognac. It's a pairing made in heaven."

She emptied her glass, ate her cherry and then popped the stem in her mouth. A few manipulations with her tongue and she removed it, knotted.

I stood and faced her. "Mmm..." she said. "I'm really feeling the drink, now. Feels really good."

"Nerves settled?" I asked.

"Yeah..."

I embraced her and as we kissed I caressed her back and shoulder blades. "You feel really good in my arms," I said.

"Feels good to me, too."

I pointed to my eyes. "Do you really need..."

Helen removed her glasses. "Only if I want to see."

"You have pretty eyes. Too bad they're behind those thick lenses. Did you ever try contacts?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't manage them."

"What about laser surgery?"

"I'm too scared of that," she said.

"I had laser surgery about five years ago. My glasses weren't quite as thick as yours, but I got tired of depending on them. I had no luck with contacts, either. The surgery went fine. Now I'm getting a bit far-sighted, even. I need mild reading glasses when I'm working with instruments at the hospital."

"I don't know -- I'm pretty chicken when comes to that sort of thing."

"You don't wear eye makeup," I remarked.

"I don't wear any makeup. What you see is what you get."

"I like what I see -- a natural girl." Helen slipped her glasses on. "I do think those wire frames are part of the look." We kissed again, this time with her tongue exploring my mouth. "I think that tongue of yours was trying to tie a knot in mine."

Helen made a little giggle. I unbuttoned her top and slid it off her shoulders. Underneath she wore a black tube-top, a bandeau over her breasts. I regarded her shoulders and arms. I could see a trace of a vein running along her left biceps. "You have a nice body," I remarked. "I love your complexion. You look like you have some Mediterranean influence."

"My mom is Spanish," she replied.

"From Spain?" I asked. "Are you bilingual?"

"Si," she replied.

"I envy you. I wish I was."

"My dad has British heritage," she added.

"It mixed nicely in you with your light olive skin, brown hair and gray eyes."

She unbuttoned my polo shirt and I slipped it over my head. "You have a nice build, too," she said, running her hands along my shoulders and arms. "Do you work out?"

"No," I replied. "I don't care for exercise, although I don't mind physical activity if it accomplishes something." I glanced toward the staircase. "Shall we go upstairs?"

We locked fingers and headed to the master bedroom. I turned the nightstand lamp on low and then faced her. I unfastened the waistband of her shorts and slid them down her slender legs. She stepped from them and I saw that underneath she wore a pair of black briefs. The fabric was sheer enough that I could discern the shadow of a natural bush.

While she slipped out of her shoes I stripped to my briefs. Then, facing her I grasped her bandeau and lifted it over her outstretched arms. I scanned her up and down. "Sensational," I remarked as I regarded her figure. Her breasts were A-cup sized and perfectly formed, perfectly proportioned and perfectly symmetrical. Each held a deeply pigmented areola the size of a half-dollar and a small nipple. "I love those compact breasts."

"Compact is the word for these mosquito-bumps of boobs," she replied. "One of these days I'm going to have implants."

I sat on the bed and held her on my lap. "Don't do that, Helen. Your breasts are a perfect fit for your frame and your personality."

She laughed. "Don't tell me personalities have bras sizes. I just want to know what it's like to show some cleavage."

"Implants never look natural and they never feel natural," I replied. "We frequently see women come into the hospital having problems with them." I shook my head. "Helen -- you need to be who you are -- a lovely, natural woman."

"With a thirty-four A sized chest and personality," she replied. "Eric -- I think you're a world-class bullshitter. But I also feel the truth in everything you say." We embraced and kissed again. I caressed her back, this time skin on skin. I ran my hand lower and caressing her taut buttocks I discovered her briefs were really a thong. "I'm falling in love with you, Eric," she said. "I can't believe it -- I'm in this heady, early love phase, and I love it."

"I'm not falling in love," I replied, "because I'm already in love with you. I was smitten with you at the grocery. I'm also loving that heady phase. You're such a beautiful woman, Helen."

"Don't say that. I know I'm not pretty. My cheeks are too hollow, my nose is too pointy ... my chin is too weak..."

"There's no formula for beauty in my book," I said. "I love your face. There's something about it that strikes a chord deep in me. I was drawn to your face before anything else."

"More bullshit..."

"Absolutely true, Helen. You're a lovely woman -- just as you are."

She kissed my lips. "You do have a way of making me feel special."

I turned down the covers. "After you." I slid in beside her and we lay, facing each other. "Before this goes any further -- some ground rules. Rule number one -- safeword. You do know what a safeword is."

"Of course I do."

"Our safeword is stop. Stop means stop period. No arguments, no objections, no guilt. If you feel pushed outside your comfort zone -- say stop and we stop. Understood?"

She nodded. "What's rule number two?"

"Rule number two is that rule number one is inviolable. There's no rule number three."

"You are putting me at ease, Eric. I know I can trust you." We kissed again.

Gently I lifted her glasses from her face and set them on the nightstand. "I don't want those to get damaged," I said and began caressing her breasts with the backs of my fingers. I could see tension drain from her face and her eyelids begin to droop. "Those little nipples sure do get firm."

"Feels good," she said softly. "It's been a long time, Eric. I need this. I need it more than I realized." She rolled onto her back and I began fondling her breasts, caressing them and stroking her nipples. Helen lifted her arms and crossed them above her head. "Feels really good," she purred and rocked her torso to press her breasts against my fingers.

"You know foreplay releases oxytocin -- the love hormone."

"I am feeling a love hormone rush," she replied. "God, this feels good. You have a nice touch, Eric."

I kissed her lips and then began covering her chest with kisses, alternating from side to side and working my way toward her areolas. I drew her right nipple into my mouth and caressed it with my tongue. By now it was firmly erect. I switched sides so I could nurse her left nipple and could feel her heart throbbing under her breast.

Helen's legs began to twitch as I fondled her breasts and teased her nipples. Turning back the covers I grasped the waistband of her thong. She lifted her hips and I slid it down her firm buttocks and sleek legs and set it on the foot of the bed. I adjusted her legs by lifting her knees and then easing them to the side so her thighs were spread and the soles of her feet touching. "Nice natural bush," I remarked. "Do you trim it at all?"

"No -- I don't need to. I never need a bikini wax. It's just how it grows."

I caressed her thighs from her knees up to her mons, caressing her labia with my thumbs. "It's a well-disciplined bush," I said. "A very pretty pussy ... and a wet one."

"God, Eric," she replied. "I can't remember being this aroused. It's just pouring out of me."

I continued running my hands up her sides, feeling the musculature in her abdomen and the gothic arch of her ribcage. I could feel her ribs under her skin and I fondled her breasts and stroked her nipples. Helen stretched her arms out to her sides. I caressed her shoulders and then reversed course, caressing her down to her knees.

She lay under my hands as I caressed her. "This," I said, "is the sort of trust that's essential for good sex. You're lying before me, totally nude and totally vulnerable with your thighs open and your arms outstretched. You're giving me absolute trust."

"Oh, I know. I do trust you, Eric. The way you're touching me -- you're making love to all of me, not just some body parts. I feel like you're worshipping my body."

I continued my full-body caressing and then began to focus my attention on her pussy. I eased apart her labia and slid my finger into her vagina to coat it with the hot slick juices bubbling out of her. I began stroking her short, thick clitoral shaft and could feel the hard knob of her clitoral glans under its little hood. "Tell me when I'm in the right spot," I said.

"Feels really good right there," she said and I began a rhythmic stroking, not too fast and not too much pressure. I lay beside her as I stroked her so I could watch her face.

She opened her eyes and began caressing my cheek. "I love you," she said.

"I love you, too."

"Feels really good. Can you keep it like that?"

"For as long as it takes."

"Your foreplay has me so aroused -- it won't take me long." She closed her eyes and made a soft moan in the back of her throat. "It's building ... building..." Her lips parted and her breathing grew heavy. "Little faster ... perfect just like that."

I could see her ribs moving under her flesh as her breathing became panting. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and drew my face to hers. I shifted my posture and kept stroking her clit. Helen pressed her mouth to mine and drove in her tongue. Then she broke the liplock and lifted her face. "Keep going, keep going," she panted and then let out a groan, her legs and belly shaking. "Keep going," she said again.

I was stroking her clit as hard and as fast as I could. She panted and groaned again. "Don't stop keep going," she gasped and groaned again. "Oh, God! Stop!"

I lifted my hand from her. She rolled over, catching my left leg between hers and pressed her mons hard against my thigh. She rocked her hips, rubbing against me as her breathing slowed. A broad smile broke across her face and she kissed my lips tenderly.

I'd give worlds to know what's happening inside a woman when she's orgasming. I'm never certain if she actually climaxes, and I had no idea what Helen experienced. "Did you have one?" I asked.

"Uhn-uhn," she said, shaking her head. "I had three ... maybe four. Eric -- I have never come so hard and so long before in my life. It was ... beyond wonderful."

"Maybe it was years of pent up..."

She shook her head. "A girl has to do something during a long dry spell."

"You have a toyfriend?"

"Uh-huh. It's never given me orgasms like I just had. It was you, Eric. You're patient and giving. I need that ... more than I realized. Now it's time for me to return the favor."

Helen eased me onto my back and slid my briefs down and off my legs. "Wow -- you're pretty wet, too." She ran her hands up my legs, caressed my hips and wrapped her fingers around my stiff erection. "Very nice."

"I'm glad you think so. At least it wouldn't scare the horses."

She lay on her back and spread her legs wide. I knelt between them. She reached down, grasped my shaft and guided its tip between her inner lips to her entrance. I felt myself go in, glans deep. Then I eased my weight onto her while pressing as deep inside her as I could.

Her tissues enveloping me felt warm and tight. As I eased into her Helen's jaw dropped and her eyes popped. "Eric -- feels so good. You're a good size for me."

I lifted up on my elbows and stroked her face. "I love you," I said gazing into her gray eyes.

"I love you, too. You're gentle. I can feel your strength but also your tenderness. That's really sexy in a man ... at least, it's really sexy to me." She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and locked her legs with mine.

I savored the delicious intimacy of union for several long moments. Then I began rocking my hips, gently at first and working up to a moderate in-out action. I could feel the tension building in my loins. Soon I was panting from the exertion and the excitement. I knew my own release was nearing.

I felt the unmistakable sensations of my vesicles charging. I pressed hard against Helen as I ejaculated, with each spurt of sperm carrying away some of the tension. The spasms subsided. I rested atop her, drew in a breath and released it slowly.

"I could feel the force of your sperm squirting inside me," she said.

My erection was fading fast. I eased from her and lay beside her. She lay under my arm and I held her, caressing her side and buttock. "You felt really good," I said, "nice and tight."

"Like I said -- you're a good size for me. Have you ever read the Kama Sutra?"

"Uhhh... I can't say I have."

"I read it in college for a social science elective on sexuality."

"Hmm... I might actually have signed up for college to take a course like that."

"You'd be disappointed. The course was mainly about the politics of sex. One chapter of the Kama Sutra talks about the importance of ... size compatibility. They use animal analogies -- hare, deer, bull, mare, elephant. An elephant isn't compatible with a hare and so on."

"Okay... I think I get it."

"I'm built kind of small inside," she said. My last boyfriend was too big for me. He had to be careful not to hurt me. Once we went to a party and we both got a little drunk. He came back to my room with me. We had okay foreplay but then ... he pounded into me hard and hurt me ... hurt me bad. I told him he was hurting me but he wouldn'ts stop."

"Did he tear you? Were you bleeding?"

"No. He moved my internal organs around. What does it feel like to be hit in the balls?"

"It hurts," I replied.

"A woman's ovaries are just as tender, but they're inside. He managed to bruise mine. I was in excruciating pain and I even threw up from it. That was the end of our relationship." She wrapped her fingers around my flaccid organ. "What I'm trying to say is ... I know a guy can be as insecure about the size of his manhood as a woman can be about the size of her boobs. Yours is perfect, Eric. It fits you, it fits your personality and it fits our lovemaking. I love that we can have satisfying sex without me worrying about being hurt inside."

Chapter III

Dawn's light through the bedroom window roused me. Helen had rolled over and was lying facing away from me. I regarded her back and shoulder blades; then I kissed her shoulder. "I'm not asleep," she said.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Wonderfully well."

I began caressing her. "You have a pretty back, Helen."

"Mmm.... That feels nice. I love backrubs. God, Eric -- I can't believe it. I can't believe how our relationship has grown in just a couple weeks. I keep thinking I'll wake up from some dream ... alone in my dingy apartment."

"It's not dingy and it's no dream." I lay on my back and she cuddled against me. "Tell me something, Helen... Do you love yourself?"

"What?"

"Do you love yourself?"

"I ... I don't know. I don't know what it means."

"If you don't love yourself, then you're incapable of bestowing love on another."

"Do you love yourself?" she asked.

"I do. It's not narcissism -- it's a mindset. It's being comfortable with who you are."

"Do you think I love me?"

"I do. I feel true love flowing from you. It wouldn't be possible otherwise. Think about it."

"I will. I'll think about it."

I continued stroking her back. "I was thinking... When's your lease up?"

"End of September."

"That's coming up."

"It's a couple months away yet."

"What I'm thinking is ... if, by the end of September you and I still feel like we do ... you should move in."

"You want me to move in with you?"

"If, when your lease is up it feels right, then yes. Think of it... You'll have a gas range. You can charge your car in the garage and not string an extension cord across the lawn. And, we could have this every morning."

"You do make it tempting."

"I'll make it more tempting," I replied. "You could live here rent-free and put more of your paycheck toward paying off those loans."

"I couldn't do that," she said. "I'd want to pay my fair share of expenses."

"I own the place free and clear, Helen. There's no mortgage. I bought it for cash from the inheritance I told you about. My only carrying costs are taxes and the condo fee. I know I could get used to seeing a naked Helen in my bed on a daily basis. Think about it."

"I'll think about it."

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" I asked.

"I got up earlier while you were still asleep. This unit has a very nice en suite, Eric. How about you -- do you need to get up?"

"I'm good for the time being." Helen rolled again onto her side facing away.

I snuggled against her, slipped my arm around her waist and she put her hand on mine. "Any thoughts about last night?" I asked. "Any regrets?"

"No regrets. Regrets are the furthest from my mind. It was wonderful ... you were wonderful, Eric. You have such a nice touch and your pacing was perfect. It must've been the combination of the drink and that love hormone."

"I think alcohol can enhance a woman's sexual experience," I remarked. "I think it's the disinhibiting effect."

"Could be... What about a man?"

"I have to be careful," I replied, "too much alcohol and I get whisky-dick."

She made a little snort. "What's that?"

"An alcohol-induced inability to perform."

"Well, you certainly didn't have that last night. Eric -- I'm not an experienced lover. I've only had a few partners. None of them have ever made me feel like I did last night. You made me feel ... desired ... cherished."

"I do desire and cherish you," I replied.

"I know. I felt it. I really felt it, Eric. It's wonderful for my sense of self-worth."

"And your sense of self-love?"

"That, too. You know, I just realized I was totally unprepared for a sleepover. I don't have a change of clothes ... not even a toothbrush."

"I have plenty of those. My mom is an assistant at a dentist's office. She's always bringing me samples."

"I'll want to take a shower but I don't know what to do about my hair. You wouldn't have a hair dryer or shower cap, would you?"

"Sorry," I replied.

"Guys have it so easy."

"I do have a bathtub. You can clip your hair in a bun and it won't get wet."

"Hmm... I'll take you up on that offer. I haven't had a bath in ages. My apartment only has a standing shower."

I began kissing her shoulders and the base of her neck. "This feels nice," she said. She took my hand, kissed the back of it and then held it against her left breast. "Your hand is warm," she said, "feels nice. I like feeling your warmth on my skin." I began nonchalantly running the soft pad of my middle finger across her nipple. "That feels nice, too." She drew in a breath and released it slowly. "Both sides?"

"Are you still horny after last night?" I asked.

"Well... Your touch feels so nice. I could do more. Can you?"

"With you? Of course. Let's do this..." I rolled away from her and slid up so I was sitting with my back against the headboard. Then I coaxed Helen to sit between my legs with her back against my chest. After gathering her luxurious hair and moving it out of the way I began kissing her shoulders and the base of her neck. "You have beautiful hair," I remarked. "I love its scent and color."

"It's my natural shade," she replied.

"I know. I can tell." Holding her around her waist I cupped my hands under her breasts and began stroking her nipples with my thumbs. In no time they had become firmly erect little soldiers standing at attention. Curling my fingers into loose fists I ran my knuckles down across her firm nipples, washboard style and ending each stroke with a pinch and a tug.

"This feels really good," Helen purred. She grasped my thighs and squeezed them, digging her nails into my skin. "I like how you're touching me and how you're kissing me ... you have a way of making me feel loved all over."

"I do love you all over."

"Your touch makes me feel so relaxed. Mmm...."

I could feel a change in her heartbeats -- faster and stronger. Helen's legs began to twitch. I reached down and caressed the inside of her right thigh, sliding up to her mons. I ran my fingers through her pubic hair and stroked her labia. She responded by drawing up her feet to spread her thighs.

With my finger I traced the shape of her mons as defined by her pubic patch and stroking her labia. Then I slipped my finger into her slit and drew it up and over her clit.

Helen's belly and legs jerked. "You okay?" I asked.

"I guess I'm a little tender there from last night. You were stroking me pretty hard."

"I'm sorry if it was too hard. If something's not right, tell me."

"Oh, Eric -- it was right. It was just right and just what I needed last night. It left me a little sensitive this morning, that's all."

"We can't have an overly sensitive clit," I said. "I'll kiss it and make it better."

Helen giggled. "Kiss it and make it better?"

I slid from behind her and had her lay on her back with pillows under her head and shoulders. "Comfy?"

"Very comfy. This is a comfortable bed."

I adjusted her legs to spread her thighs and lay between them. This was my first opportunity to look at Helen's pussy close-up ... and, in daylight. The upper thirds of her outer lips were covered in the same curly brown hair as her mons. Further down the hair became sparser and shorter until it blended with her normal body hair. I kissed each lip and nuzzled her bush. With my thumbs I spread her.

Helen's pussy was textbook perfection. She had a short and thick clitoral shaft, about the diameter of a pencil. I could glimpse her tiny pale glans tucked in its little hood. Her inner lips were short -- nothing protruded from between her major labia. Between them was the entrance to her tight little vagina.

I leaned in and planted a soft and lingering kiss on her clitoral shaft. "Did that make it better?" I asked.

Helen giggled. "It didn't make it worse," she replied. "It felt nice."

I kissed it again. Then I drew it between my lips and began rapid but gentle stroking with my tongue. Helen's jaw dropped. "Oh, God! Eric -- this feels SO good." She stretched her arms out to her sides as I continued my tonguing and fondling her mons with my thumbs. I reached under her thighs, cupped my hands over her breasts and began stroking her nipples. Her breathing was deepening and I could see her belly and ribs heaving.

"Eric!" she gasped. "It's building ... building fast..."

Her accelerating heartbeats confirmed what she said. Helen put her hands on my head and steered my tonguing up and to the side a bit. Her clit became very firm and her heart was racing. She began rocking her hips for additional stimulation and I followed her cue best as I could.

Helen let go of my head and stretched out her arms again. She drew in a deep breath, clenched her jaw. "COMING!" she gasped and flailed her arms. I grabbed her hands and we locked fingers, she squeezing mine in a white-knuckled grip.

I watched the agony and ecstasy in her face as wave after orgasmic wave washed over her. This time I knew she was climaxing as I could feel the muscles in her bottom pulsing against my face. Her breathing alternated between heavy panting and moans and cries.

"Enough! Stop!" she finally gasped. I lifted my face, let go of her hands and began gently caressing her pussy to bring her down slowly. Each stroke was echoed in her thighs jerking and twitching. Slowly her breathing returned to normal.

Helen opened her arms to me and I lay atop her. She covered my face with kisses. "Is this what my pussy tastes like?" she asked.

"That's your natural perfume," I replied. "I love having it linger in my nostrils." She rolled me onto my back and began caressing my legs and hips. "How about you on top this time?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

She swung her leg over my hips. I held my shaft at its base and steered it to her opening as she lowered herself onto me. Helen's jaw dropped as I penetrated her. "This feels good," she said. "You're in deeper this way."

"Not too deep, I hope."

"No, not too deep -- just right." She rocked her hips and I tensed my buttocks to push in all the way.

"How much bigger was your ex? Never mind, I don't think I want to know."

"Eric -- you are the perfect size for me. Perfect. I enjoy coupling with you much more than I did with my ex. This feels so good I want to savor."

"Savor away," I said as I held her across her shoulder blades and the small of her back. "I like it this way because I can caress your bottom. You have a nice, taut butt, Helen. In fact, if you have any surplus fat, I don't know where you put it."

"I do have my share of it," she replied.

"I said surplus. You're lean but soft and smooth ... exactly what I like in a woman's body. I don't think the skin-and-bones look is sexy at all."

Helen lifted up on her elbows and began caressing my shoulders and chest. She ran her fingers across my nipples. "Do guys find this sort of touch arousing?" she asked.

"This guy sure does," I replied. I felt my erection strengthening from her caresses.

She held my face in her palms and kissed my lips. "Oh, Eric -- I love you ... my love for you is deepening by the minute." She began rotating her hips. "Feel good?"

"Very nice," I replied. I began smoothing my hand along her buttock. She was smooth and round, but firm and without a dimple or ripple. As I caressed her I slipped my finger between her cheeks and explored her crevasse. I encountered the puckery skin surrounding her anus, slick from her juices. I resisted the temptation to slip my finger into her orifice -- this was only our second time and I didn't want to do anything that might be unwelcome.

I slid my finger down lower and felt where my shaft entered her pussy. Moving up slightly I caressed the zone between her anus and vagina. "That feels good," she said.

"This?" I massaged her and could feel the bulge of my shaft under her flesh.

"Yes... Press down." I pressed my fingers against her. Helen began rocking her hips giving me some in-out stimulation. "Harder," she said and I pressed harder.

It was like throwing a switch. She began humping me hard and grunting from the exertion. I could feel her back become moist with perspiration. "Oh, God!" she gasped, drew in a breath and groaned.

Her thrusting slowed but she didn't stop. "Did you just have one?" I asked.

"I had something. What about you?"

"Not yet ... soon," I panted. I had been on the verge of climaxing when she had whatever it was she had and slowed down, breaking my rhythm.

She upped the pace of her thrusting. "How's this?"

"That'll do it," I replied and added my own complementary thrusting to the mix.

"What if I do this?" she asked and began pinching my nipples.

"That'll do it, too..." I felt my climax approach. Grasping her buttocks with both hands I pressed in deep and pumped my fluids into her.

We lay facing each other, gazing into each other's eyes and caressing each other's faces. "That was without a doubt the best sex I've ever had," she said. "Starting with you delivering oral on me."

"Have you received oral before?" I asked.

"Yes, once. My ex had no interest in it. During my long dry spell I had a one-night stand with another woman."

"You had a lesbian experience?"

She nodded. "I was at an office party. She was an assistant in the front office, a sweet and bubbly woman. We had been drinking. She threw a pass at me and I caught it. I had been curious and, with no other prospects on the horizon I figured, why not? I went with her back to her place. She satisfied my curiosity, Eric. I have no desire for another lesbian encounter. You can put your mind at rest on that account."

"Actually, I like the fact you did that. It means you're open-minded and not averse to new experiences."

"We started out like you and I did last night. She made me a drink -- not as good as the one you made for me -- and we started necking. That led to leisurely foreplay and she ended up licking me. It wasn't like just now with you, Eric. She was more of a tease ... two steps forward, one step back."

"Would you like me to tease you more? I can if you want."

Helen shook her head. "No. I prefer it your way. Her way was frustrating to me. I eventually did climax, but it took a lot of effort and concentration on my part. I think you have a man's approach to it. I felt it last night when you were fingering me and I really felt it just now."

"What do you mean, a man's approach?" I asked.

"You keep driving me forward. You're patient and gentle with me during foreplay, and I need that. Then, after I'm thoroughly aroused and ready for it, you drive me to orgasm and I need that, too. It's like you have one goal -- to make me come. That other woman would lead me to the brink but I had to fall over by myself. You drive me to the brink and then push me over. I feel like I'm falling into ... bliss. At that moment I'm nowhere but in the moment and I feel deeply connected to you."

Her eyes filled and she began brushing away tears. "Oh, Helen..."

"I'm sorry," she said, sniffling. "I didn't want to cry. I just felt so connected to you it was overwhelming. When you held my hands while I was climaxing -- it strengthened the bond even more. Then, when we were coupling and you had your hand back there and were pressing down..."

"What did happen, then?" I asked.

"The pressure was squeezing you against my G-spot I think. I had some sort of orgasm -- not like earlier, but I felt something -- some sort of release."

"I wish I could know what a female orgasm feels like. I wish you could describe it."

"Each one is different," she replied. "I can't describe it. You're a skilled and experienced lover, Eric."

"I don't know about that," I replied.

"You're not like any man I've experienced. I've had a few boyfriends over the years and none of them made me feel the way you do. How did you learn?"

"My ex..."

"You were married?" she asked.

"Never married. My ex-girlfriend was about ten years older than me. She was an instructor at the community college where I got my Associate's certificate."

"You had an affair with your instructor?"

"It was after I graduated. She always was fond of me, but never anything improper while I was in her class. We kept in touch and one day she asked me to come to the school and describe my job to her students. I agreed and afterward she and I sat down for a cup of coffee. One thing led to another and we started a torrid affair that lasted about a year. She was very experienced sexually and taught me what I know. In particular she taught me how a woman's body responds ... how men are too eager to move down ... how a little time invested in foreplay pays dividends later -- so you can thank her."

"Why did you break up?" she asked.

"New governor, new legislature -- they started cutting subsidies to the community colleges. The program was eliminated and she found a new position at a four-year college on the west coast. I can't handle a long-distance relationship so we agreed to split on friendly terms. I still count her as a friend -- we exchange Christmas and birthday cards... She's no threat, Helen. She met a guy out there and married him."

"She was a good instructor in bedroom arts," Helen remarked.

"She also was good with technical arts," I replied. Helen snuggled against me. "What do you want us to do today?"

"Right now I just want to do this. I know we can't stay in bed all day. I still feel mellow from making love. I want to savor it for a while ... maybe snooze a bit. I loved falling asleep in your arms."

Chapter IV

Long story short: Helen moved into my condo. We had agreed to make a decision when her lease was up at the end of September. By early July we both knew it was what we wanted to do. We had hardly slept alone since that weekend at Brewer Peak, and mostly at my place. She had no trouble getting out of her lease as her landlord had been turning away tenants and was happy to offer it to some college students at higher rents. Her place came furnished so we didn't have much in the way of furniture to move.

Now, I was sitting at the airport awaiting arrival of her flight from San Francisco. She had gone there to attend a conference for her job. I saw her flight on the arrivals board switch from On Time to Arrived, so I stood near the concourse entrance and scanned for her.

I spotted her and she broke into a sprint when she spotted me. She wore a charcoal pinstriped skirt and a white blouse and carried her matching suit jacket over her arm. I caught her in my arms and we kissed. "I missed you so much," I said.

"I missed you, too."

"How was your flight?"

"We left about half an hour late due to morning fog that pushed back all the flights. The pilots were able to make it up with tailwinds."

"Let's go get your bag."

I dragged Helen's checked bag to the parking lot and put it in the trunk of her Leaf. Helen sat behind the wheel and we headed toward the condo. "How did you like driving my car?" she asked.

"I like it ... it's quiet."

We reached my unit. Helen pressed the opener and parked beside my Honda Accord. While I removed her bags from the trunk she plugged the charging cable into the car's nose. "I have a special dinner for you," I said.

"Oh? What might that be?"

"Be surprised. I'm going to get the grill going."

"I want to change these clothes." Helen carried her luggage upstairs to the bedroom.

She returned some time later. "Sorry -- I had to unpack."

I regarded her -- she wore running shorts and a blue tank, and I could tell she was braless. Her tank covered her firm breasts like paint. "That outfit is worth the wait," I said.

"It's kind of warm today. I see you have your shorts on."

"Yeah. Dinner's ready. I have the table set in back."

"You know I love dining outdoors."

I put a plate before her. "Grilled salmon. I love grilled salmon. I never would've thought to serve it with couscous."

"It's a light side for a warm day."

"It is indeed." I poured two glasses of pink bubbly and handed her one. "This is lovely," she said after sipping some.

"It's French -- a Bordeaux cremant."

"Perfect choice. The crust on the salmon -- it's almost like Cajun blackening. Is this your mix?"

"It's a rub I found at that gourmet store you like."

"It's all wonderful. I never would've thought of blackened salmon. You cribbed my tomato salad. It goes together perfectly. You are a good cook, Eric."

"Good with the grill at least," I replied.

We finished our dinner and took our evening stroll. "How was your conference?" I asked.

"It was good. I learned a lot ... did some networking... One of the hospitality suites was hosted by a venture-capital startup in the biotech industry. They're located in San Francisco and are looking for staff. They invited me to send in a resume."

"Are you going to?" I asked.

"I might, just to see..."

"San Francisco is a beautiful city," I said. "The tech industry out there -- Google and Oracle -- have wrecked the real estate market. It's a million for a nine-hundred square foot loft."

"Yeah, I know..."

"What about us?" I asked. "I told you I can't do a long-distance relationship. I want my partner under my roof ... and if not under my roof, the closer to my roof the better. Same street beats same city, same city beats same county, same county beats same state."

"Same state beats same country?" she added.

"If it's not at least same state, forget it."

"Any job offers out there would have to be a package deal," she replied, "jobs for both of us."

"My roots are here. I'd love to visit San Francisco but I don't think I could live there."

"Well -- I'm under your roof and I'm staying under it -- no matter where it is."

We returned to my unit and we went inside. "I have a surprise for you," she said.

"Really?"

"It's upstairs. I'll go get it." She headed up the stairs.

"I'll put some music on," I called after her.

She descended the stairs carrying a small black canister. What she wore made my jaw drop. It was a three-piece outfit, a peignoir set comprising a mid-thigh length jacket with three-quarters length sleeves and closed with a single tie. Underneath was a short babydoll style gown, the front of which was open from her sternum to her hips, and underneath that was a G-string style thong. All were made of the sheerest white fabric that concealed nothing.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"You look sensational. Where did you find that? It's not the sort of thing that's off the rack at Hubbards."

"The only hotel I could book turned out to be in the Tenderloin, although convenient by bus to the Embarcadero where the conference was held. Across the street was a twenty-four hour adult video store."

"Across the street ... from your hotel was an adult video store?"

"That's right."

"That's San Francisco for you."

"I went in out of curiosity and spotted their collection of lingerie. A sales clerk approached me and asked what I was looking for. I was really shy at first, but as we talked she put me at ease. I told her my boyfriend likes my boobs even if I don't. She said, if he likes 'em then I should like 'em 'cuz that's what counts. Then she took this off the rack and suggested I try it on. I went into a dressing room and tried on the gown and jacket. The clerk rapped on the door and asked how I liked it. I cracked open the door and she stepped inside. You wear that well, she said. I bought it and brought it to my room and tried it on, this time G-string and all. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, I look pretty good. Eric is going to like this."

"Eric loves it," I said. I sat on the sofa and Helen sat on my lap. She placed the canister on the coffee table. "What's that?" I asked.

"Something else from the sex shop. It's honey dust -- honey that's been dehydrated and then ground to a super fine powder. If you put it on dry skin, it becomes slick like talcum powder."

"On wet skin it gets sticky," I remarked.

"Yes but you can lick it off -- it's sweet." She popped open the canister and removed a feather applicator. "This is what you apply it with."

"I know where I want to put some." I took the canister and applicator, dipped the feathers into the powder and spread some on her thighs. "It does make your skin feel slippery," I said as I smoothed my hands along her legs. With the feather I daubed some of the golden dust on her cheeks and lips.

"Careful -- I don't want to inhale it," she said.

"I'll be careful..." I kissed her lips and then kissed the dust off her face. "It is sweet. I'll put on weight if we use this..." I regarded her outfit and realized her gown's bodice had no fabric covering her breasts. White satin ribbons that formed the shoulder straps also formed the outline of the bodice. "Helen -- is this a peek-a-boo gown?"

"Maybe," she said coyly. I reached for the tie securing her peignoir jacket. "Let's go upstairs first."

I shut off the music, picked up the canister and followed Helen up to our bedroom, watching the backs of her sleek legs. There I quickly stripped to my briefs. She turned her back to me, untied the tie and let the sheer white jacket fall to the floor. Then she turned to face me.

Indeed the gown's bodice was nothing but satin ribbons outlining her breasts. The cutaway front exposed her firm but soft belly with its cute navel and the sheer G-string barely covered her bush. "Man, you are gorgeous!"

"I know," she replied. "When I looked in the mirror... For the first time in my life -- at least, since puberty -- I liked how my boobs look."

"I've been telling you -- they're perfect for you."

"I know you have. I believe it now."

As usual I gently lifted her wire-frame glasses from her face and set them on the nightstand. Helen lay on our bed and I lay facing her. We kissed, her lips still sweet from the honey dust.

I reached for the canister and applied a liberal coating of honey dust to her nipples and areolas. Then I began fondling her breasts, her skin lubricated by the fine dust.

"This feels really good," she whispered. "Deeper?"

I applied more dust and squeezed her breasts firmly from front to back and pinching her nipples. "This dust eliminates friction so I can use a heavier hand," I remarked. "Maybe we should try some hand lotion sometime."

"Mmm ... sometime... Oh, God, this feels good. Just this for a while?"

"For as long as you want. I can't believe how beautiful you look in that gown."

"I can't, either," she replied.

I leaned over her and began kissing and licking the sweet golden powder from her breasts. When I kissed her right nipple Helen rolled onto her side and held my head, pressing my face into her breast. "Nurse," she said and I began sucking on her nipple. "Take more of me in to your mouth and nurse."

I drew as much of her breast into my mouth as I could and massaged her nipple and areola against the roof of my mouth. Helen pressed and rubbed her mons against my hip. "Feels good," she gasped. "I can feel it in my womb... Other side."

She released her grip on my head and rolled onto her back. I licked more dust from her areola, drew it into my mouth and nursed. I could feel her heart pounding. With my left hand I fondled her right nipple, still slick with my saliva; and with my right hand I caressed her mons and labia through the fabric of her G-string.

Her heartbeats grew more rapid and her breathing became panting. "Stop," she said and I lifted my face from her breast. She caressed my cheeks. "I almost came," she said as she caught her breath. "I was almost there but it slipped away from me."

Grasping the waistband of her G-string I began to slide it down. Helen lifted her hips and once clear of them I slid it off her long legs. With the feather I began applying more honey dust to the insides of her thighs. "You're not putting that on my pussy, are you?"

"No -- I don't think that would be smart."

Lying between her legs I kissed and licked the dust from her thighs, starting at her knees and moving up, alternating from left to right. I reached her vulva and covered her mons and labia with kisses. "What are you in the mood for tonight?" I asked. "Fingers or tongue?"

"Oh, a hard choice. I love it when you do oral on me. I also love it when you look into my eyes and we kiss while I'm climaxing." She bit her lip and rolled her eyes in thought. "Fingers."

"Fingers it is." I adjusted her posture so she was lying halfway on her right side with her left leg bent and her thighs open. I lay beside her, my arm around her so I could press my fingers against her left nipple. With my right hand I stroked her pussy, working my finger into her slit. Lubing it with her hot juices I found her firmly engorged glans and began stroking it.

Helen quickly achieved a string of powerful orgasms that left her flushed, panting and perspiring. I pet her pussy with the backs of my fingers to bring her down gently and watched her ribs heave as her breathing returned to normal. "Good one?" I asked.

"Wonderful..."

I grasped her gown. "Take this off?"

"I want to leave it on. I feel so sexy in it, I want to keep it on tonight."

"Then we leave it on."

She slid my briefs off my legs. Helen applied some of the dust to my chest, caressed my skin and licked it off my nipples. "I want to do something different tonight," she said.

"Different, how?"

"I want to try doggy style."

"It's not one of my favorite positions. I like the intimacy of looking into your eyes and kissing while we're coupled."

"I love that, too. I was reading online about sex positions. Doggy style provides a different kind of stimulation and I wanted to experience it. I've never done it that way before."

"Doggy style it is."

Helen got on her hands and knees and then lowered her shoulders so she was resting on her forearms. I knelt behind her, folded back the hem of her gown and adjusted my stance to align with her entrance. Holding my shaft I guided its tip into her vagina and pushed in. "Oh!" she gasped. "This does feel good. It's different, Eric. I think you're up against my G-spot."

"I thought I had to press down for that."

"You're in at a different angle this way." She rocked her hips. "Yes... You're in just the right place. Feels good."

I reached around her thigh and began stroking her clit with my finger. "What if I add this to the mix?"

"Feels really good. I might be able to come like this." I continued my stroking and she continued rocking her hips.

I put my left hand on her smooth, round and firm buttock. Helen had a gorgeous ass, just round enough and the right size, and as smooth as a marble statue. Her posture gave me an excellent view of her anus, textbook perfect like her pussy, and slick with her juices that had oozed out during foreplay. I ran my thumb along the crinkly skin of her pucker.

From the sound of her vocalizing I knew she must be close to orgasm. Unable to resist I pressed my thumb against her orifice and it slid in to nail depth. I continued caressing her buttock, rotating my thumb in her anus.

Helen let out a moan and I could feel her pelvic muscles throb. Her sphincter pulsed against my thumb as her orgasm peaked. I continued stroking her clit and stimulating her anus. She let out another moan, louder and longer than the first and I felt more throbbing against my thumb. "Stop! Enough!" she gasped.

I withdrew my thumb and held both her buttocks while I took my pleasure. Watching my shaft pump in and out of her was a thrill, and soon I was on the verge of climax. Holding her hips and pushing in I ejaculated.

She lay beside me under my arm still wearing the gown. I put my hand under the fabric and caressed the small of her back. "Mmm," she purred.

"Did me putting my thumb..."

"Eric," she interrupted, lifting up on her elbow. "I wasn't going to mention it ... not now, at least, and ruin a tender moment. But since you brought it up... I don't like being touched there. Don't do it again."

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to do anything unwelcome."

"Unwelcome! How could you think I'd welcome it? Eric -- we talk all the time about how essential trust is to good sex. What you did was the closest you've come to violating that trust." She held up her thumb and forefinger. "I came this close to saying stop. If you had done something like that the first time there wouldn't have been a second."

"Helen -- I really am sorry."

"Apology accepted. Now, I consider this a dead topic." She resumed cuddling against me and I resumed stroking her back. "Mmm... I love falling asleep in your arms."

"I love feeling you fall asleep. Your legs make these little twitches as you drift off."

"Really? I didn't know that."

What she had said really bugged me. I felt awful that I had done something to upset her. "Helen..."

"What?"

"I'm really sorry that..."

She pressed her finger against my lips. "I said it's a dead topic, Eric. I've put it behind me. Please put it behind you."

"All right... It's just..."

"Just what?" she asked.

"Nothing...." I pressed my lips against her head and inhaled her scent. "I love the scent of your hair."

"Mmm... This feels really good... Good night, Eric."

"Good night." I held her and felt her legs make involuntary twitches against mine.

I woke to find Helen lying on her side facing me. "Good morning," I said. "Sleep well?"

"Always in your arms."

She cuddled against me, wrapped her leg around mine and began running her fingers through my chest hair.

"Eric?"

"What?"

"Why would you do something like that?"

"Like what?"

"What we discussed last night."

"Do you mean the thumb business? I thought this was a dead topic."

"I want to know why. Why would anyone want to ... ugh..." She shuddered.

"You have a cute anus, Helen -- perfectly round little orifice surrounded by a delightful pucker of pink and tan... It was staring up at me, wet and glistening with your juices. It was an impulse I couldn't resist."

"What is it with men and assholes?" she asked.

"I dunno -- maybe it takes one to appreciate one."

Helen giggled and then laughed out loud. "Maybe you're right."

"Since it's no longer a dead topic -- you said you were this close to saying stop. Why didn't you?"

"I was climaxing ... I didn't want to ruin the moment."

"You started climaxing when I put my thumb in," I replied. "Don't you remember?"

"When I'm coming I get lost in the moment. I don't recall the exact sequence of events."

"You told me that I drive you to orgasm, that I drive you to the brink and push you over."

"I remember saying that. It's true ... I love how you make me come."

"Sometimes that shove over the brink requires something extra -- a bite on your nipple or a tug on your bush."

"I'm not disputing that," she said.

"I'm going to tell you exactly what happened," I replied. "I knew by your breathing and vocalizing you were on your plateau, at the brink. Your heart was probably pounding at one twenty beats per minute. I was stroking your clit as hard as I could while fighting finger fatigue and also trying to give you some G-spot stimulation. I know when a woman reaches that state there are two possible outcomes: Orgasm or frustration."

"You have not once left me frustrated, Eric. That's the truth."

"Last night you needed that shove. I put my thumb in your butt and you immediately started climaxing. I could feel the muscles in your bottom throbbing and pulsing against it."

"You could feel that?" she asked.

"Certainly, and it was plenty sexy in its own right. You had two orgasms before you yelled, enough. I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest you might be anally erotic. The nerves down there are close to the ones in your pussy. You have to admit something happened when I put my thumb in. That's when you climaxed."

"I did feel something and it did push me over the brink. That doesn't prove I'm anally erotic."

"I didn't say it did. I said you might be. I think it's worth exploring. Linda..."

"Is Linda your ex who taught you sex?" she asked.

"Yeah. She was anally erotic and we did engage in anal sex -- not every time but once in a while."

"Eric -- I do NOT want our love life patterned after what you and Linda did."

"Neither do I. It hasn't been and it won't be. But, if you can derive pleasure from it, why not add it to our repertoire? Will you just think about it?"

"Okay... I'll think about it."

"I have a joke for you -- two women were talking. One asked the other if she knew what her asshole was doing while she was orgasming. The other said, yes he's downstairs on the sofa watching the game."

Helen gave me her sly smile that meant she found what I said amusing but wasn't going to legitimize it with a laugh. "On that note," she said, "I'm going to get up and start breakfast."

Our tradition on weekend mornings had become breakfast in the nude, although today was an exception as Helen was still wearing her peek-a-boo nightie. She made eggs Benedict and I made coffee. We sat across from each other the table.

"I'll never get tired of seeing you from behind in your apron making breakfast," I remarked.

She smiled. "Eric -- I've been thinking about what you said this morning. I understand what you were saying, and I understand this is something you want. We talk about sex being giving and trust and this is on the giving side of the equation. You're such a giving lover and maybe it's my turn to give something, too. I also know variety is the spice of life and the spice of sex."

"Are you saying you're willing to try it?" I asked.

"I'm saying that I would be willing to ... explore some anal play but I just don't know if I can get past it."

"Past what?"

"All my life I've believed that it's the filthiest, germiest part of my body. I can't understand why someone would want to ... play with it."

"Assholes are like opinions," I replied, "everybody has one."

Helen giggled. "I have heard that the other way round, but that doesn't make it less true."

"Shit happens. It's part of life. Sure, it's icky and stinky, but unless you have an infection or are infested with parasites it's not germy. The microbes are simply normal, healthy gut flora that everyone has."

"Microbes that belong in the gut and not elsewhere," she remarked.

"I'm sure by now we've exchanged microbes just by living together and having sex. As a microbiologist I'm sure you know this."

"Yeah, I know it. I just don't like thinking about it."

"We can make sure you're clean down there. We can use an anal douche."

"What's that?" she asked.

"We squirt some water in to rinse out your rectum. Linda always did one before we had anal sex and we never had a problem."

"I don't know," she said.

"It's all about trust, Helen. If you tell me you never want to be touched there, then I will never touch you there. If you're just a little bit curious ... like you were with that lesbian you slept with..."

"Curious... Eric, you have done some things that put me on the edge of my comfort zone and now they're well inside it. This is outside the edge... Okay -- I'll agree to an anal douche and see if it changes my mind about it."

"Tonight?" I asked.

She nodded. "Tonight. I have a backlog of laundry to do and today's the only day to do it. As soon as we finish our breakfast I'm going to shower and get dressed."

"I'll join you. I have errands to run and I'll stop at the drug store to get what we need for tonight. I'll be sorry to see you take that off that nightgown. You'll have to wear it again."

"For some special occasion," she said. "Eric -- seeing myself in it changed how I feel about my body. It was a real turning point. I think I was more giving last night because if it. Don't you?"

Chapter V

Helen sat beside me as I drove her Leaf from The Reef towards town. The restaurant was out of town but not so far as to risk running down her battery. I had become fond of her electric car, especially the economics of it and never having to fill the tank.

She put her hand on my thigh. I regarded her -- she was wearing a green checked undress with a halter top and sandals. I had on my shorts, a polo shirt and deck shoes. I put my hand on hers. "Nervous?" I asked.

"A bit ... mainly of the unknown. I know you'll take care of me, Eric."

"You have nothing to fear but fear itself," I remarked as I pulled into my garage. Helen hooked up the charging cable while I unlocked the door to the unit. We went upstairs to our bedroom. Sitting on the dresser was a plastic bag containing the necessities, along with a large bowl from the kitchen.

"Should I try going to the bathroom first?" she asked.

"Not necessary but go ahead if it'll make you feel better."

She stepped into the en suite and closed the door. Shortly she emerged. "No luck?"

Helen shook her head. "No luck."

I carried the bowl into the bathroom and filled it with warm water. Then I grabbed a towel from the linen closet. "Spread this on the bed," I said and handed it to her. I opened the bag and removed a ten ounce douche bulb and a tube of surgical lube. The bulb was made of blue silicone rubber and had a white, curved snout attached.

Helen looked over my shoulder. "That looks like a vaginal douche," she remarked.

"It works just as well as a rectal douche. The side discharge holes in the tip spray in different directions to better loosen anything that's stuck." I squeezed the bulb to empty it of air, poked the tip into the bowl and released my grip. The bulb slowly expanded as it filled with water. Holding it upright I squeezed out more air and then filled it the rest of the way from the bowl.

"How should I be?" she asked.

"Lie on your left side. Get comfortable. Draw up your knees." I lifted the hem of her sundress. "Uh... We need to lose the briefs."

"Oh,. duh...." She slid them down her legs and placed them on the foot of the bed.

"I'm going to put some surgical lube on your bottom. Just relax."

Spreading her cheeks I regarded her delightful pucker. I figured this was a good way to introduce her to having objects inserted into her bottom. With lube on my finger I spread it on her anus and then worked some into her anal canal. "Feels kinda cold," she said.

"Yeah, it can feel that way." Then I smeared some on bulb's white tip. "Here comes the nozzle..."

Again spreading her I touched the tip to her orifice and she flinched. "Relax," I coached and by gently rocking and rotating it I eased the tip into her anus. I watched her orifice expand and the discharge holes disappear into it. Then I tilted the bulb so the nozzle was pointing toward her head. "Your rectum lies along your tailbone," I said. "I'm inserting the nozzle to follow that curve."

Slowly I slid the nozzle into her until it was in up to the hilt. "It's all the way in," I said. "Feel okay?"

"Feels okay," she replied.

"Now I'm going to inject the water..." Holding the bulb with two hands I squeezed down firmly, collapsing and folding the rubber onto itself to discharge as much water into her rectum as possible.

"Oh!" she gasped. "What an odd feeling. It feels like a cool spray inside."

"It is a bit below body temperature," I replied as I removed the nozzle while keeping the bulb collapsed so I wouldn't suck the water back into it. I sat on the bed and caressed her thigh. "Rest like that for a minute or two and then you can go sit on the toilet."

"Okay..."

"Be patient. Sometimes it can take a while for it all to come out -- especially the first time."

"Got it." Helen swung her feet to the floor and headed for the en suite. A few minutes later I heard a flush and she emerged from the bathroom. "Better luck this time?"

"Oh, yeah," she replied.

"Stuff come out?"

"Oh, yeah."

"The protocol is to repeat until the water comes back clear."

Helen lay on her left side and drew up her knees. "Actually it wasn't so bad," she said, "not bad at all."

Again I spread her, lubed her and inserted the nozzle, watching it vanish into her pucker. Again I used both hands to squeeze the bulb and empty its contents into her bottom. The proceedings were giving me a raging hard-on, but I hoped Helen wouldn't notice.

She returned to the bed after visiting the en suite and lay on her side. "Little more came out -- not as much as first time," she reported.

"Third time's the charm," I replied and again inserted the tip and squeezed the bulb. Helen made a soft moan as the water rushed into her. She's enjoying this more than she anticipated, I thought and watched her head for the bathroom.

She returned and approached me. "Well?" I asked.

"Pretty clean," she said. "Maybe one more to be sure."

Helen once more lay on her side and drew up her knees. I spread her and eased the nozzle in, watching it disappear into her. And, again when I squeezed the bulb she let out a soft moan.

She returned from visiting the loo. "Everything come out okay?" I asked.

"Very funny."

"I took the liberty of putting away the bulb."

"I'm good," she said. "I'm clean as a whistle back there now."

"Maybe we should take a short walk and let your bottom relax a bit."

"Maybe we should," she replied. I picked up her briefs and held them out to her. "No thanks. I feel like going commando."

We headed for a hill near the entrance to the condo complex. "What are your thoughts?" I asked.

"Wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Once I got used to the sensations I kinda liked it. I liked feeling you push the nozzle into me and the surge of water."

"I have heard some say that a finger or other object in your anus is relaxing."

"Maybe..."

"Did you find it arousing?"

"Yeah, a bit. Maybe you're right about me being anally erotic. I think you're anally erotic, too -- my anus makes you erotic."

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice," I replied. "You have a very pretty one, you know."

"So you've said, but I'm not entering any beauty pageants. Don't tell me you and Linda went through that rigmarole before every date."

"Once in a while. Usually she took care of it on her own at home beforehand. If you douche two to three hours ahead, you're good."

"How could she manage that bulb on her own? I couldn't. You needed two hands and mine are smaller than yours."

"She had a setup in her bathroom -- an attachment to her shower head. It was a long hose with a diverter. She'd start her shower, insert the nozzle and turn the diverter to fill up."

"So -- she never moved in with you."

"Nope. She was in the same-city category. Which means, you're way ahead of her on that score."

"I was thinking it but I didn't want to say it," she replied.

"I like watching the sunset from here," I said.

Helen hugged my arm. "It is beautiful here."

"Let's head back. I'll make a couple of my secret recipe Manhattans if you need one."

"I'd love one of your Manhattans -- though I don't need it. You put me at ease ... like you always do."

We held hands as we strolled. "Do you realize you were carrying yourself differently at the restaurant?" I asked.

"Differently? How?"

"More self-assured."

"I told you -- I've had a revelation about how I feel about myself."

"It shows. Guys were noticing. You were getting looks."

"Oh my God! Really?"

"Really."

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not in the least," I said with a smile. "They can look all they want."

"Eric... It bothers me -- having strange guys ogling me ... undressing me with their eyes... like I'm nothing but arm candy."

"Let 'em think what they want to think. My point is -- some self-assurance is more attractive than all the makeup in the world."

"But I don't wear makeup."

"My point exactly."

We reached my unit. I mixed two drinks and handed one to Helen. She ate the cherry and knotted the stem. I held her on my lap on my sofa for some kissing and necking. "Did I ever tell you how much I love your legs?" I asked as I caressed her thigh and knee.

'I think you did, maybe..." She rolled her eyes in thought. "...three dozen times."

She drained her glass and I drained mine. "I have an idea," I said. "Let's invite your toyfriend and make it a threesome."

"You're not thinking of putting that in my butt ... 'cuz if you are, forget it."

"I have other plans for it. Ready to go upstairs?"

We ascended the stairs. Helen went to the side of the dresser holding her dainties. From underneath a pile of underwear she retrieved a foot-long object about the diameter of a broom handle, made of smooth white plastic with pink leopard spots. It had a rounded tapered tip and a knob on the other end. "Here," she said and handed it to me.

"Is the battery still good?" I twisted the knob and tested the various speeds. "Looks like it. I'll set it here along with our tube 'o lube." I placed it on the nightstand.

I sat on the bed and coaxed Helen onto my lap. As usual I eased her glasses from her face and set them on the nightstand. Then we kissed some increasingly passionate kisses. "I think this is a sexy sundress," I remarked as I nonchalantly caressed the side of her breast with the backs of my fingers.

"What makes it sexy?" she asked.

"I like the amount of skin on display in back. It also looks ... dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

I held up my thumb and forefinger. "It looks as if you're this close to a wardrobe malfunction. If the knot holding up your halter top should fail..."

She reached behind her neck. "Like this?" Helen untied the knot and let the bodice fall.

"Like that. Oh, I love those sexy breasts."

I began stroking her nipples. Helen closed her eyes and drew in a breath. "Feels good," she said. "Shall we break out the honey dust?"

"I ate so much of that last night I think any more will put me into a hyperglycemic crisis." Coaxing her to stand I unhooked the waistband and slid the dress down her legs. Since she had gone commando on our walk I was now looking at her totally nude body.

Helen slid into bed while I stripped to my briefs, and then joined her. She lay on her back and I began making long, full-torso caresses with both hands. "You mentioned hand lotion," she said.

"Yeah?"

She glanced toward her nightstand and I spotted a bottle of lotion. I picked it up, squirted some into my palm and sniffed it. "Smells nice -- what is it?"

"Lily of the Valley," she replied. "It's my flower."

"Your flower?"

"My birthday -- in May."

"I think it's a scent that suits you." After pumping some onto her nipples and areolas I began fondling her breasts.

"Oh, this feels good," she said softly. "It feels like the honey dust only ten times more slick."

"Too bad it doesn't taste as good," I replied as I squeezed her breasts and caressed them with my thumbs. As her heartbeats grew faster and stronger I shifted my position so I was laying atop her with my hip against her mons. Helen began rocking her pelvis to rub her pussy against me. "Going to come?" I asked.

"I dunno, I don't care," she replied. "You always make sure I'm fully satisfied."

"How about some satisfaction now?" I covered her belly with kisses. Then I adjusted her legs and kissed the insides of her thighs. Lying between them I spread her labia so I could lick their smooth insides. Then I began tonguing her clit. I worked my right hand so I could slide two fingers into her pussy and began stroking the roof of her vagina.

"In a bit," she said and I moved my fingers in further about a quarter inch. "Perfect... Don't change it."

Helen lifted her face, closed her eyes and parted her lips. Her breathing was very deep and slow and I watched her breasts and abdomen heaving. "Oh, God -- it's building fast," she said. She placed her left hand on her sternum and began teasing her nipples -- something I had never seen her do before.

Her breathing turned into vocalized panting. She continued stroking her nipples with her left hand, her right pounding the mattress. With my free hand I grasped her wrist and we locked fingers. "Just a bit more," she panted and I obliged. "I'm on the verge of a strong one...." Her legs began to jerk.

She grasped her left nipple, tugged on it and let out a long groan. She covered her mouth with her left hand while squeezing mine with her right. More orgasms washed over her and I could see her body respond to each, her belly jerking and her legs shaking.

"Enough!" she gasped. I withdrew my fingers from her and moved up to cradle her head, caressing her cheeks. "Oh, God," she panted. "I had lots ... lots..."

She regained her composure, her breathing returning to normal, but her belly continued to make random jerks and twitches. "You okay?" I asked.

"Oh, I am so okay," she said with a broad smile. "I love feeling these ... aftershocks. Makes it last longer."

"Are you ready for the next act or do you want to rest a bit? Drink of water or something?"

She shook her head. "Let's do it."

I was giddy with anticipation with what was about to transpire. Helen had a perfect ass -- her buttocks were round but firm and taut. There wasn't a hint of cellulite on them or her thighs. Add to this an almost perfect butthole. My instinct was to drive my manhood hard into her orifice. On the other hand, she was precious to me and I knew if I wanted another opportunity like tonight's that I would need to make it an experience she'd find so gratifying she'd want another go.

"How do you want me?" she asked.

"Let's start on all fours."

I knelt behind her and began caressing her buttocks and covering them with kisses. Gently spreading her cheeks I regarded her pucker. I began rimming it, stroking her crinkly skin with my tongue and pressing the tip of it against her orifice.

"Eric -- what are you doing?" she asked. "Not that I mind -- it feels kinda good."

Feels kinda good, I thought. Excellent.... "Just a bit of anal foreplay," I replied "I'm going to try dilating you a bit. I'll put some lube on your bottom." I grasped the tube of surgical lube from the nightstand and squirted some into my finger. This I applied to her anus. "I'm going to put some inside," I said and pushed my finger into her orifice, this time up to the second knuckle, and twisted my wrist to rotate my finger.

"Oooh, that feels... different."

I felt her sphincter tighten around my finger. "Try to keep your bottom relaxed. Helen -- you feel sensational inside. You feel like warm, moist velvet..." I felt her sphincter again tense around my finger. "Try to relax," I coached.

"Okay -- I'll try."

"I'm going to use two fingers, now," I said, added more lube and eased two fingers into her anus. "Relax ... relax...." Rotating my wrist I attempted to make her orifice accustomed to a larger intruder. "Now, three fingers," I said and, pulling my fore-, middle- and ring fingers into a single probe I pushed them into her bottom.

After rotating them for a while I withdrew them. Her orifice was now a little more than half the diameter of my manhood. "I'm going to put more lube on you," I said and worked more into her opening.

I stripped off my briefs and slathered lube on my firmly erect organ. "First rule of anal sex is there's no such thing as too much lube," I said as I smeared more on her. "This is me, now." Holding my shaft at its base I aimed its tip to her orifice. "Just relax," I said as I held her cheeks apart and pushed firmly but slowly into her to glans depth. "Now, lower your shoulders," I instructed.

Helen complied and this put her posture in such a way that I could ease into her following the shape of her rectum lying along her tailbone. Slowly I pushed into her, watching my hard shaft disappear into her dilated pinkish-tan pucker.

"Feels okay," she said as I eased into her rectum. "It doesn't hurt ... feels kinda good."

"I'm in all the way," I said.

"I know -- I can feel your hair against my bottom. Feels okay, Eric -- no pain, no discomfort. Just fullness in my bottom."

"Is that arousing?" I asked.

"It's different. Eric -- I know you're getting more out of this than I am."

We'll see about that, I thought. I reached under her and began caressing her clit with my middle finger. "How does this feel?" I asked.

"Mmm... Nice." I reached for her vibrator, switched it on a fairly low setting for a throbbing effect and pressed the throbbing tip against her clit. "Too much!" she gasped. I slid the device so its shaft was against her clit. "That's better," she said.

I caressed her round buttocks and her lower back as I knelt, my manhood still fully erect and embedded in Helen's rectum. She began making soft moans and I could feel her thighs quiver from the throbbing vibrator.

Somewhat awkwardly I tilted the vibrator back and eased its point into her vagina. "Oh!" she said. "Right there -- you found my G-spot."

I was feeling the vibrator's throbbing, transmitted through her tissues to the underside of my glans. The sensation of her tight rectum enveloping my shaft and the subtle throbbing of the vibrator was ramping up my arousal. "This feels really good, Helen," I panted.

"Feels really good to me, too," she replied. "It's building..."

It was building in my loins, too. I began some gentle in-out, pushing in gently and feeling the vibrator's throbbing against my glans; then pulling out briskly so I could take my friction on the draw. Watching my shaft, glistening with lube slide in and out of her dilated pucker was a thrill I'll never forget. I continued this slow-in, fast-out action as I held the vibrator in place with one hand caressed her buttocks and back with the other.

"Eric," she gasped. "When you push in, the throbbing is stronger."

"Like this?" I pushed into her all the way.

"Yeah. I like how the sensations come and go with your thrusting." I began making full-length strokes, again pushing in gently and pulling back to take my pleasure. "Like that," she panted. "It all feels really good. I'm going to have another strong one. A little faster?" I began humping her butt with vigor. "Eric! I'm gonna come!"

I knew I was approaching climax, too. Helen's breathing was now vocal panting. "Oh, God!" I gasped as the tension built to the point of no return. I pushed in deep, reached for her nipple and pinched and tugged it. I could feel her heart racing.

"Oh, God!" Helen gasped and groaned. I could feel her pelvic muscles and her sphincter pulsing around my firm shaft. At the same moment my climax exploded in my loins. I leaned in and squirted my fluids into her depths.

After easing the vibrator from her I switched it off and set it on the sheets. As my arousal faded I caressed her buttocks and back; then I eased myself from her. "You should see what you look like," I said. "I can see straight into your rectum -- it's ruby red inside. You'll be back to normal in no time." With a facial tissue I cleaned off her bottom and my rapidly deflating organ. "Anal douche worked," I said. "Not a speck."

I lay on my back and held her under my arm. "How's that sweet bottom of yours feeling?" I asked.

"A little tender. I'm glad you applied so much lube. I'd be sore now otherwise."

"What did you think of that experience?" I asked her.

"The oral you delivered on me was first-rate," she replied. "I don't know how many I had, but lots. You always make sure my needs are satisfied before yours."

"And, the anal..."

"Different," she said. "I was anticipating more discomfort. I've read about how difficult and painful anal sex is. The gentle way you prepared me ... I felt stretched a little but no pain, and just a little tenderness now ... very intense sensations -- especially when you put the vibrator inside me. It felt ... bigger and it was right against my G-spot."

"I could feel it, too."

"Then when you started pushing in and out -- it almost felt like when we did it doggy-style last night."

"We came at the same time," I remarked. "Simultaneous orgasms is sort of a holy grail of sex,"

"I know. I liked that. I also liked that I could feel yours," she said. "Normally what I feel is the force of your sperm squirting into me. This time I felt you get bigger and harder. Then I could feel you throbbing as you came. Those sensations made mine stronger."

"I could feel your muscles throbbing against me. It added to my pleasure, too. So, anything you didn't like?"

"It's not a very intimate way to make love," she replied.

"Just about any front-door posture can be adapted to the back door."

"All the preparation ... it's not very spontaneous."

"We should try anal missionary sometime."

"Sometime," she replied. "I wouldn't want a steady diet of it, but now and then ... it makes a nice change of pace."

"That's exactly how I feel about it."

"I do think you smashed some of my taboos." She plowed her fingers through my chest hair. "One thing was essential, Eric -- the gentle and tender way you did it, explaining what you were doing, caressing my back to relax me. I think it would've been unpleasant for me, otherwise." She leaned forward and kissed my lips.

"I love you. Helen... I do appreciate what you overcame to agree to this. It was a real act of love."

Chapter VI

It was mid-week. I stood in my kitchen threading some extra-jumbo shrimp onto skewers. I heard the garage door and Helen stepped into the living room. She was wearing her work clothes -- blouse, skirt, pantyhose and black shoes. "Another long day," I remarked.

"Yeah..." She collapsed on the sofa. "This new project is going to be my doom."

"Can I mix you a martini?" I asked.

"No ... no, thanks. I'm going to go upstairs and change."

"I've got some shrimp I'm going to put on the grill," I replied. "They should be done by the time you're changed." Helen headed up the stairs. "Did you plug in the Leaf?"

"Oh, crap!" She started to turn around.

"I'll take care of it."

Helen returned wearing her now standard at-home outfit of running shorts, filmy tank and sandals. "I have the table set outside," I said. "Would you like some beer or wine?"

"It's your recipe -- whatever you think pairs with it."

I took a large-format bottle of rose wine from the fridge and filled two glasses. With a vacuum sealer I re-corked the bottle and replaced it in the fridge.

"I made a marinade with some ginger, lime, sake and sesame oil," I said, "for an Asian vibe. I also have some stir-fried vegetables and some rice. Soy sauce?" I handed her the bottle.

Helen ate a shrimp and put her fork down. "Don't you like it?" I asked.

"It's very good, Eric," she replied. She picked up her fork and I watched her eat. She appeared to be forcing it down.

"Helen -- what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry you put so much effort into dinner tonight. I just don't have much of an appetite."

"Is your project at work bothering you?"

"It's not that -- it's me. I don't feel well."

"Are you coming down with something?"

"I don't know..." She picked up her plate and carried it to the kitchen and began scraping its contents into a deli container. "I'll take this for lunch tomorrow."

"Okay..."

I approached her and embraced her. "Helen -- I love you," I whispered into her ear. "Please tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help or maybe not but at least I won't worry it was something I did."

"You are sweet," she said and kissed my lips. "Of course it's nothing you did, so stop worrying." She looked into my eyes. "This is so embarrassing... Do you think ... that an anal douche might help with ... constipation?"

"Are you bound up?" I asked.

She nodded. "Big time. When I get like this I take some senna. I really don't like taking it because I'm never sure when it'll kick in and when it does kick in I get uncomfortable cramping and I worry I won't make it to a restroom. I thought before I resorted to the senna, if an anal douche might help."

"How long has it been since..."

"This past weekend. I haven't been able to, since. I was hoping it would resolve itself. Now I feel really uncomfortable."

"I can imagine. Do you want to go upstairs now and try it?"

"Yeah... I'm kinda desperate." I held her hand and we headed to our bedroom. Helen spread a towel on the bed. From the closet I retrieved the douche bulb, a tube of surgical lube and the bowl. After filling the bowl with lukewarm water from the bathroom sink I carried it to the bed and set it on the nightstand.

Helen had removed her shorts and briefs and was lying on the bed on her left side and her knees drawn up. I filled the bulb with water from the bowl and squeezed some lube onto its snout. Then I squeezed lube onto my finger, spread her buttocks with my free hand and worked the slippery gel into her anal canal. "Here comes the water..." Touching the nozzle's tip against her orifice I rocked it to open her up. Her anus relaxed and I eased the nozzle in. Then with both hands I squeezed it to send its contents into her rectum. "Lie there for a couple of minutes to let it soak in," I said as I caressed her thigh.

"Okay..." I continued caressing her thigh. "Thank you for doing this, Eric," she said. "I know it's beyond the call of duty."

"It certainly is not beyond the call of duty," I replied. "Helen -- don't ever be shy about this sort of thing. If I can help -- I want to help. Understood?"

"Understood. I'm going to try going, now."

I watched her head bare-assed into the en suite. Several minutes passed before I heard the toilet flush. She sat on the bed. "Any luck?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Not really. Some came out but not enough. I still feel ... stuffed. Can we try again?"

"We can but I don't think you'll fare any better."

She sighed. "I'll just take some senna. Well, thanks for trying."

"I think what you need," I replied, "is an enema."

"Do you mean from the drugstore?"

"The squeeze-bottle ones? Those contain a strong salt solution and I don't think they're good for you. What I'm suggesting is plain water."

"Isn't that what an anal douche is?"

"An anal douche is a sort of enema, but it only fills your rectum or maybe a bit further. What I'm talking about is filling your entire colon from end to end with warm water. The water softens what's in there and the volume stimulates motility. It's a more gentle and natural way to get relief than using a laxative."

"How do you know so much about this?" she asked.

"When I was dating Linda..."

"Linda again..."

"Linda is a registered nurse who went into teaching. Once while I was dating her I threw out my back. I saw a doctor and the quack prescribed Vicodin. I was on it for about two weeks and it bound me up pretty bad. I asked Linda about it. The first thing she said was, get off the Vicodin, that I didn't need opiods and should take ibuprofen instead. Then, she gave me an enema, and it made me feel a whole bunch better."

"How much water?" she asked.

"The usual amount for an adult is one and a half to two quarts."

"Two quarts? That sounds like a lot."

"The secret to an effective enema can be summed up in two words: sufficient volume. You're slender but you're tall. You have a long torso and probably a colon to fit."

"Does it hurt?

"A properly administered enema shouldn't hurt," I replied. "You might experience some discomfort but no real pain."

"Eric -- what you're describing sounds so ... medieval."

"Senna is medieval, too. It's an extract from a plant and has been in use for thousands of years."

"I think I'll take my chances with the senna," she said and headed to the bathroom. She returned with an empty blister pack. "I'm out of it," she said, eyes rolling. "I'll have to go out for some." She picked up her briefs.

"Helen -- why take something that affects your entire digestive system when it's only the last five feet of it that needs treatment? Why wait for the senna to work when you can have instant relief right now?"

"When you put it that way... Do we have what we need for an enema?"

"When Linda gave me enemas she used a fountain syringe ... an enema bag. We don't have one but we can use the bulb. It just means more insertions. It's a ten ounce bulb so six would be sixty ounces, just shy of two quarts."

"It still sounds like a lot," she replied.

"If it becomes too much, just say so and we'll stop," I replied.

"I guess that doesn't sound too bad."

I carried the bowl to the bathroom, dumped its contents and ran the tap. Once the tap water warmed up to slightly above body temperature I filled the bowl to the rim, carried it into the bedroom and set it on a chair near the bed. Then I removed a jar of Vaseline from a vanity drawer.

Helen lay on the bed on her left side, knees drawn up. "Best position for this is on all fours," I said. "That way I have good access to your bottom, and we want your colon more or less horizontal so we're not battling gravity getting this into you "

"Okay... I'm a little nervous." Helen knelt on her elbows and knees.

"You'll be fine. Think of it as an anal douche and then some." I caressed her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. "This is one wonderful view, Helen. You have a terrific ass."

"Is that why you want me like this?" she asked.

"This posture is practical ... with benefits. I'm going to put some Vaseline on you. The K-Y is more slippery, but it's water soluble and with so many insertions, it might wash away. Vaseline is water-proof." I liberally buttered the nozzle with the petroleum jelly and then worked a big blob into Helen's sexy little pucker. Squeezing the bulb to expel air I dipped the nozzle into the bowl and filled it. "Here comes number one," I said. Now, relax. Being relaxed is critical for this." I touched the nozzle's tip to her anus and with some gentle rotation her orifice admitted it. In a single smooth motion I eased the tip in, tilted the bulb down and slid it into her rectum. "If you feel any cramping, discomfort, or urge to expel, tell me and we'll pause until it passes. Understood?"

"Got it," she replied.

I squeezed the bulb to force the water into her rectum. "It is warm," she remarked.

"We use warm water for an enema -- it's relaxing to the colon."

"Feels kinda nice, actually."

I refilled the bulb. "Here's number two," I announced as I slid in the nozzle and squeezed the bulb, emptying it into her. I refilled it and spread her buttocks for the third insertion. Her anus was tensed and tight. "Helen -- relax."

"I feel like I have to go," she said. "I'm trying to hold it back."

I caressed her back. "Try taking long, deep breaths and working the muscles in your abdomen. That will flex your colon and help the water find a channel so it can flow in deeper."

Helen took several deep breaths. "Backrub feels nice," she said.

"How about a tummy rub?" I reached under her and massaged her abdomen while she continued her deep breathing. "That's it -- keep it up until the pressure dissipates."

Helen's breathing returned to normal. "That helped. It's better, now. I felt the pressure release and the water moving up my left side."

I slid the nozzle into her orifice and discharged it. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Feeling fine, no discomfort. I'm feeling the warmth of the water ... a kind of warm heavy feeling in my tummy."

"Fullness in your belly is normal. You're doing real well, Helen. Here's number four. Only two more after this one." I watched the white snout disappear into her pucker, squeezed it and refilled it. She took more deep breaths. "You okay?"

"Yeah -- I felt some pressure but it's okay now."

"Here's number five," I announced and squirted the bulb's load into her.

"Starting to feel really full," she said.

"Last one," I replied and eased the tip past her sphincter, rotated the bulb so it pointed toward her head and slid it in. A firm squeeze with both hands emptied it into her depths. I used a washcloth to daub her bottom.

"Feeling very full, now," she said, "bloated -- a bit uncomfortable but no pain."

"You should hold it until the enema gives you a strong urge to go," I said. "Lie flat on your back."

"Okay..." Helen rolled onto her side and then onto her back, her legs stretched and her ankles crossed.

I knelt near her hips. "I want to feel your belly," I said and lifted the hem of her tank so I could gently palpitate her abdomen. "I feel fullness. Feel here."

Helen placed her hands on her sides under her ribcage. "Oh, wow..."

"I'm going to give your belly a gentle massage. It can help stimulate your colon." Gently I massaged her abdomen, starting on her lower right, moving my fingers in little circles and moving up, across and down, following the fullness in her belly. "I can feel the shape of your colon."

"Your touch feels nice," she said. "I'm starting to feel some ... pressure building."

"The enema is working," I replied as I continued my gentle massage. "Hold it back until the urge is strong."

"It's passing," she said.

"Do you get like this often?" I asked.

"Often enough," she replied. "Most of the time it resolves itself if I eat some prunes or a bran muffin from the cafeteria at work. I think stress aggravates it."

"You've been stressed out over this new project at work," I remarked.

"Yeah, and a change in my routine also aggravates it. I don't travel well and the trip to San Francisco upset my routine. I had to take senna at the conference and I missed part of a presentation I wanted to attend because I was in the ladies' room. Pressure again ... stronger this time ... feels a bit like stomach flu."

"That's the enema stimulating your colon. I wish I had known, Helen. The more I know about you the better I can care for you and the better I can love you. Tell me when things bother you."

"You're sweet, Eric ... I'm still getting used to the depth of your love. Now I'm feeling like I need to go."

"See if you can hold it a little longer," I replied as I continued massaging her belly. "The longer you hold it the better it works."

"The urge is passing," she said.

"Maybe we should invest in a fountain syringe -- an enema kit," I suggested, "if you're going to need this fairly frequently. It's a more comfortable way to take an enema."

"Like what Linda had?"

"Hers was professional grade, made of clear silicone rubber -- it cost her over a hundred bucks. Something from the drugstore could be had for ten or fifteen."

"Uhhnn... Another cramp. The urge is getting stronger and now it's coming in waves."

"Once this one passes, get up and go."

She stood and trotted to the bathroom and closed the door. After squeezing out as much residual water from the bulb as I could and putting it away in the closet, I sat on our bed and waited. She was in there for nearly twenty minutes before I heard the toilet flush.

Helen emerged from the loo, closing the door behind her. "I put the fan on," she said.

"How did it go?"

"Wow. I pooped and pooped and pooped. Then when I thought I was done I pooped more. It was so much I had to flush twice. It felt like the most massive case of Montezuma's Revenge I had ever experienced."

"Are you feeling better?" I asked.

"Oh, am I ever! You were right -- I take the enema now and it works now, not who knows how many hours later. I had some cramping in there but nothing like what senna gives me and once the enema was gone..." She pressed her palms against her belly. "Peace reigns. You said it would be gentle and natural. That's what it felt like."

"Enemas are an old-time cure," I remarked. "They were used by ancient Egyptians. Would you do it again?"

Helen's eyes widened. "Now?"

"No, not now." I chuckled. "The next time you get bound up like this."

"Oh, definitely. It's a no-brainer." Helen approached me. We embraced and kissed, and I caressed her lower back and buttocks. She looked into my eyes. "Could we do another ... now?"

"You want another enema?"

"It's how I am. The first time I experience something new I'm kind of apprehensive. Then afterward and I know what to expect I want to experience it again."

"That little pucker of yours doesn't feel like it needs a gasket replaced?"

"No, it's fine."

"For best results, enema number two should be larger. We've flushed a lot of stuff out of your colon."

"How much more?"

"Five pints instead of two quarts," I replied. "Eight squirts instead of six."

"That's only two more. I think I can handle it."

"You're serious about this?"

"I am."

I had put the bulb away so I retrieved it, refilled the bowl and replaced the chairs by the foot of the bed. Helen stripped off her tank and knelt, nude, on the bed. "Why lose the tank?" I asked.

"All the better for you to rub my back."

I slathered the bulb's nozzle with Vaseline and applied a generous amount to Helen's pucker, working it into her anal canal. Then I inserted the tip, eased it into her rectum and squeezed. She took the first three in rapid succession. "Any cramping or pressure?" I asked as I caressed her back.

"No, nothing. I am feeling the warmth in my tummy. I like how that feels." I refilled the bulb, slid the nozzle into her rectum and squirted its load into her. "Mmm..." she said.

"You like that?"

"I do. I like feeling the surge of warmth in my bottom and how it penetrates deep in my tummy."

Again I refilled the bulb, inserted it and squeezed it empty. "Mmm..." she said again. "I'm starting to feel some fullness, that warm, heavy feeling," she said. "No discomfort, no cramping."

"The second enema usually goes in a lot easier," I replied as I filled the bulb and eased the nozzle into her bottom. "This is number six -- what you took the first time." I squeezed the bulb to empty it into her and eased the tip from her.

"Mmm... I'm feeling full but not too full," she reported. "I like how it feels."

"Number seven, then..." I put more Vaseline on the nozzle, filled the bulb and eased the tip past her sphincter and slid the nozzle into her. "Let me know if it starts feeling like too much." I squeezed the bulb slowly until it was empty.

"I feel like I did after the first enema," she said. "Really full."

"Do you want to stop?"

"I'll try taking number eight."

Again I filled the bulb and inserted the nozzle. "No heroics -- if it feels too much, say so." I squeezed it slowly. She took it all and I slid the nozzle from her rectum. "I'm feeling very, very full now," she said. "I don't think I can hold it very long."

"Then, get up and go. You don't need to hold this one."

She stood and put her hands on her belly, visibly distended from her sternum to her mons. "Oh, my God -- look at me." She regarded herself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. "I look like I have a baby bump."

"In that slender belly of yours, not many places for the water to hide," I remarked. "I think that looks sexy."

Helen headed into the en suite and closed the door. Again I put away the bulb -- for the final time I figured.

She stepped from the bathroom, her hands on her abdomen. "Oh, Eric! I feel so good now -- better than after the first one. I feel empty and relaxed inside. And, look how flat my tummy is." She admired her figure in the mirror.

"It's certainly flatter than when you went in there."

"It's flatter than when we started this. I know I'm having a bad episode when my pants fit too tight. My tummy pooches out, and I feel stuffed and like I can't eat a bite. That's when I know I need to take some senna."

"Or, an enema," I remarked.

"I'd take one of those before it got that bad," she replied. "My tummy is so flat, now -- flatter than I ever remember it."

"I read somewhere that ballerinas will take enemas before a performance to keep their bellies flat."

"I think they'd take them to feel lighter on their feet. I know I do." Helen approached me with a smile. She threw her arms around me and covered my face with kisses. She kissed my lips and pushed her tongue into my mouth. Then she began unbuttoning my polo shirt and lifted it from me. She unfastened the waistband of my shorts and slid them down my legs.

Helen pressed her palm against my briefs and stroked my stiffly erect organ. "Look at this," she said, "and it's wet, too. Giving me the enemas was a turn-on for you."

"I ... I was hoping you wouldn't notice," I replied.

"Let me show you something..." She took my hand and pressed it against her pussy. "I'm so wet it's almost running down my legs."

I slipped my finger into her slit and felt her firmly engorged clit and her hot juices. "The enemas did that to you?"

"Uh-huh," she replied. "I loved feeling you insert the nozzle and the warm surge of water in my rectum. I loved feeling the water filling my tummy -- the warmth and the fullness. I especially loved the tender way you cared for me -- it was a nurturing experience."

"That turned you on?"

"Big time."

Helen turned around, bent over and grasped her ankles. "Wow -- you're flexible," I remarked.

"I used to do yoga." She wiggled her bottom at me and I knew it wasn't her pussy she was offering.

I stripped off my briefs and reached for the tube of lubricating gel. With my thumbs I smeared an ample amount onto her anus and worked one thumb into her orifice. "You're not sore?" I asked.

"Just a little tender. I know you'll be gentle. You always are."

Helen was learning how to relax her sphincter and I was able to get two fingers into her, and then a third. Rotating my hand I gently dilated her, glimpsing the ruby red lining of her rectum.

Once she was sufficiently dilated I smeared my stiff organ with lube and gently pushed into her, watching my glans disappear into her pinkish-tan opening. I held her hips and eased the rest of my way into her.

"Mmm..." she purred. "Feels good, Eric." She let go of her ankles and stood upright with me behind her and my shaft deep in her bottom. Holding her around her waist I kissed and nuzzled her neck, cupped my hands over her breasts and began stroking her nipples. "Oh, this feels good," she said. I could feel her tensing and relaxing the muscles in her bottom to give me some subtle internal stimulation. "I like feeling you in my bottom."

"I like feeling me in your bottom, too." I smoothed my right hand down her abdomen. "Flat tummy," I remarked.

"Really flat tummy," she replied.

I ran my fingers through her bush and stroked her labia. Working my finger between them I began a slow stroking of her clit.

Helen lifted her face. "This feels really good," she whispered. "You're gonna make me come this way."

I kissed and nuzzled her neck and shoulders while fondling her left breast. I could feel her heart beating stronger and faster as I stroked her clit. Her heart served as a metronome for me -- as it sped up so did my stroking rhythm.

Soon her breathing became loud vocal panting. "Don't stop," she gasped. "MORE! COMING!" I felt powerful throbbing of her pelvic muscles against my shaft. "Keep going keep going," she gasped, panted and moaned as I felt more throbbing in her bottom. Finally she reached down and lifted my hand from her pussy as she leaned over, elbows on thighs to catch her breath.

I grasped her hips and began taking my pleasure with slow, full-length stroke and watching my shaft ease in and out of her.

"God, Eric," she gasped. "This feels sooo good." She placed on hand on her breast and squeezed her nipple. She let out a groan and I felt more throbbing, not as intense as the first time. It was enough to put me over the edge. I pushed into her as my spasms peaked.

I held her butt against my hips as my breathing and heart returned to normal and satisfaction overspread my body. Easing back, slipped out of her and hastily grabbed some facial tissues. "My load is oozing out of you," I said as I daubed between her cheeks and legs. Helen flopped onto the bed, face-first, laughing. "I don't mind wet spots on the sheets," I said, "but not on the carpet. What's so funny?"

"When I told you I was constipated, I never imagined we'd end up having more anal sex."

I snuggled against her. She held me tight and pressed her mons into my thigh. "I can't believe that me fucking your butt made you come," I remarked.

"Normally I doubt it would," she replied. "I came long and hard from your stroking me and when you started humping I was still coming. It gave me just enough for another."

"I felt it."

"I'm still feeling it," she said.

I caressed her buttocks, my finger exploring her crevasse. It encountered her anus, shrinking but still somewhat dilated and my finger dropped into it effortlessly. Helen contracted her sphincter, giving it a squeeze.

We kissed some long, tender kisses. "You said you thought my bulging tummy looked sexy," she said. "Was that a veiled hint you'd like to see me pregnant?"

"I think you'd be very sexy pregnant," I replied.

"Eric -- do you want kids?"

"I haven't given it much thought. Yes, eventually. You're the only woman I'd want them with."

"You're the only man I'd want them with," she replied.

"I think we should spend some time simply enjoying each other. We're not that old and we have time. Some other things need to get done, first."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We'd need to get married," I replied. "I'm kinda old-fashioned that way."

"Mmm... So am I. Are you saying you want to marry me?"

"You got someone else in mind? Of course I do -- but only if you want it, too."

Chapter VII

I was in the front yard of the condo watering the flower bed that Helen had planted. Her silver Leaf pulled up to the garage door. She gave me a little wave and pressed the button on the opener.

After emptying the watering can I headed inside. "Another long day?" I asked.

"Yeah, but we're getting our arms around it. Speaking of which..." Helen embraced and kissed me. I hugged her and we kissed again.

"What was that for?" I asked.

"Nothing. Now, do something to deserve it."

"Maybe I already have. You seem chipper tonight," I remarked.

"Oh, I am. Eric -- the enemas last night made me feel lighter and more energetic, and the sex gave my attitude a seriously-needed adjustment. My co-workers noticed and remarked I must have a new boyfriend."

"What did you say?"

"I said, same boyfriend I've been living with for the past two months. They had no idea -- I guess I'm pretty private about my personal life."

"Good policy, actually."

"They wanted details. All I said was that you were very nurturing last night."

"And, what did they say to that?"

"Gina said she wished she had a nurturing boyfriend and Carla said she wished she had a boyfriend, period. So I guess they thought I'm pretty lucky. I think I'm pretty lucky."

"I know I'm pretty lucky... Helen -- I know it's your turn to make dinner. You've been working long days and I have some burgers in the freezer I could put on the grill..."

"I have dinner planned. Let me change and I'll tell you all about it."

I watched her bound up the stairs. She bounded down shortly in running shorts, tank and sandals. "I saw a box on the bathroom vanity," she said. "Combo syringe and hot water bottle set."

"That's your new fountain syringe."

"Can we try it tonight after dinner?"

"What is dinner?"

"I thought we could go out, my treat," she said. "Then..." She bit her lip. "Try it out?"

"After last night? You hardly need more enemas."

"When I get a new toy I want to play with it. Would tonight be too soon?"

"Not necessarily," I replied. "Lots of folks are daily users. Mae West and Marilyn Monroe reportedly were. Where can we go where this is the dress code?"

"My surprise."

I followed her into the garage and sat in the passenger seat of her Leaf. She backed out of the garage and headed toward town. "I think I know where we're headed," I remarked. "The Palace."

"Right. Fifties atmosphere, surly wait staff, do-wop on the jukebox... I was in the mood for one of their burgers and fries."

"Not exactly up to your usual healthy standards," I said.

"Maybe not, but what's the harm once in a while?"

Helen parked diner's side lot. "Man, this place takes me back," I said, "to when my folks were kids. It's hard to believe this place has been here for sixty-plus years ... and the only thing that's changed on the menu are the prices. My folks have photos of when they came here as teenagers -- my dad driving my granddad's red Camaro convertible."

"You're a local so you have those connections," she replied. "I like the ambiance."

We sat in a booth and looked over the menu. "I think I'll stuff the jukebox," I said. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything romantic."

I looked over the jukebox selections. The device had been upgraded from vinyl to digital but the selection list was the same and songs cost a buck a pop.

"I punched up 'I Only Have Eyes for You' by the Flamingoes," I said. "Romantic enough?"

"I like that song."

"It should be next up after 'Ain't That a Shame' wraps up."

Our server took our orders -- bacon double cheeseburger, onion rings and large chocolate malt for me and a cheeseburger, fries and vanilla shake for Helen. "I remember coming here as a teenager, too; especially after I got my license and my first car." My selection started playing on the jukebox. "This song makes me feel like we should be necking in the back seat of a Studebaker on Lovers' Lane."

"It is romantic..." Helen reached across the table and took my hand. "One thing I didn't tell my co-workers was lifting my spirits today..."

"What's that?"

"What we talked about in bed ... you know ... kids and marriage. I kept hoping I hadn't dreamt it."

"You certainly didn't," I replied. "I'm dead serious."

"What sort of ceremony should we plan? It's traditional for the bride's family to foot the bill. My folks aren't very wealthy..."

"I think we can break with tradition. I don't have a big circle of friends."

"I don't have any circle of friends, here," she remarked. "All my friends are back home. I've kinda lost touch with most of them."

"Hmm... An intimate event for immediate family sounds good to me."

"Sounds good to me, too."

"We should go looking for a ring," I suggested. "Maybe this weekend."

"Oh, I don't need a fancy ring," she replied. "I really don't need one at all."

"Just think what your co-workers will think if you show up with one."

She smiled. "I think their heads will explode."

Our meals arrived. "This burger tastes just like it did when I was a senior in high school," I said. "And the malt is just as thick."

"We threw a going-away luncheon here for one of my co-workers who changed jobs," she replied. "That's how I knew the place. For a fifties-style greasy spoon, you can't get much better than this."

The server set the check in front of me and Helen snatched it. From her bag she retrieved some bills and set them on the table. "That should cover it plus a tip," she said.

We headed to the parking lot and Helen backed the Leaf out of the parking stall. We headed back to the condo. "This was a good idea," I said. "I enjoyed myself."

"So did I," Helen replied. "It's a nice change of pace."

She pulled into the garage. I hopped out and hooked up the charging cable. "Your car is like a smartphone," I remarked. "When you're not using it you keep it on the charger. Let's take a stroll to settle our dinners a little."

We headed for a walk around the condo complex. "You're keeping me in suspense," she remarked.

"I know you want to play with your new toy," I replied, "but it's not a good idea to take a big enema right after a big meal."

"Why is that?"

"Your stomach and your colon lie against each other. If both become distended, you can feel some real discomfort."

"That makes sense. The burger and shake were pretty filling." She pressed her palm against her abdomen. "I think my tummy is pooching out a bit."

Holding hands we headed along the woods behind our unit. "What do I need to know about using a fountain syringe?" she asked.

"Well... Obvious main difference is you get filled up from a single insertion of the nozzle. We need to decide which position to try. Like with the bulb we don't want to be fighting gravity, but we can exploit gravity, too. One way is left side, knees drawn up."

"Like we use for an anal douche," she remarked.

"Yeah -- it's a good way to get an enema started. The problem is, once your descending colon is full, we're fighting gravity to get the enema up into your transverse colon. Once you've taken a third of the fluid, you roll onto your back or belly to take the rest. If you want to make sure your cecum is filled then you can roll onto your right side for the last third and the water will flow downhill into it."

"That makes sense," she remarked.

"You can also take an enema on your back or on your belly. That keeps your colon mostly horizontal so you're not fighting gravity. Lying on your belly puts pressure on it and might not be the best position."

"I can see that," she said.

"Kneeling on all fours is a good way to keep your belly horizontal without putting pressure on it."

"Like last night with the bulb," she remarked.

"You are getting into this," I remarked. "Then there's the Sims positions -- you're lying half on your left side and half on your stomach. Your colon is mostly horizontal but slightly uphill. That's another good way to get an enema started."

"What would you recommend?" she asked.

"I think if we start you on the left-side, knees-up position that would work well for you."

"What else do I need to know?"

"How high to hold the bag," I said. "The recommendation is eighteen to twenty-four inches above your rectum. I think that's too low. The flow is too slow and if you stimulate motility in your colon before you've taken the entire enema you risk dealing with backpressure. I think thirty-six inches or even more is better. If the fluid flows in too fast, you risk cramping,. but you can always address that by stopping and starting the flow. I think best policy is to take an enema as fast as is comfortable to get it all in before your colon knows what's hit it."

"How do you know so much about this? Let me guess... Linda."

"Right. She taught me all I know about sex and enemas."

"She must've given you a lot of enemas," Helen remarked.

"No -- only a few, so I do know what they feel like. I gave her too many to count."

"What, was she constipated, too?" she asked.

"I gave Linda enemas because she enjoyed them and she enjoyed having me give them."

"If your bedside manners with her was anything like what I experienced last night, then it's no wonder she liked you giving them."

"It took me a while to understand what makes for a properly administered one," I replied. "So, you're benefiting from her tutelage."

We had circled around the complex and arrived back at the unit. I unlocked the front door and we stepped inside.

Helen bounded up the stairs and I followed her. "I'm going to change," she said.

"Oh, please don't. I love you just how you are."

"My clothes, silly." She headed into the closet.

I opened the box and began assembling the apparatus by attaching one end of the hose to the adapter cap and sliding the shutoff clamp into place. Then I affixed the white plastic douche tip to the other end of the hose.

Helen emerged from the closet wearing a floral printed, mid-thigh length satin robe and with her long hair in a ponytail. I carried the enema bag into the en suite and began running water to warm it up. "I also bought a one-quart measuring cup and an instant-read thermometer. We want the water about a hundred three degrees ... Fahrenheit. I know you scientists use centigrade.

"Celsius," she replied. "We call it Celsius."

"I guess we're old-fashioned at the hospital." I put the measure under the tap and adjusted the faucet until the thermometer read 103. I measured two quarts into the bag and screwed on the cap. "This is important," I said. "Once the bag is full, you flush air out of the hose..." I held up the bag, pointed the nozzle into the sink and cracked open the clamp until water sprayed out of the jets in the tip.

"Ready?"

"Ready, willing and eager," she replied.

"Grab a towel and spread it on the bed."

Helen lay on the towel and drew up her knees. I lifted the hem of her robe to expose her tight, round buttocks. "I'm going to put some lube on you," I said. "This shouldn't feel any different..." I squirted the surgical gel onto my finger, spread it onto her anus and worked some into her orifice. Then I applied more to the douche tip. "This nozzle is about the same as on the bulb, so it shouldn't feel strange to you, either." I touched the bulbous tip to her orifice. "Take some deep breaths and relax."

With a rocking motion I eased the tip's bulbous nose into her anal canal. Tilting it back I slid it into her rectum. "Feel okay?" I asked.

"Feels fine," she replied.

"Like before, you should take slow, deep breaths. Tell me if you have cramping and I'll stop the flow until it passes. Understood?"

She nodded. "Understood."

"Tell me right away if you experience any real pain."

"You can count on that!"

I held the bag, extending my left arm straight up. "We're gong to have to figure out how to hang this," I said, "so I don't need to hold it up like this." I snapped open the clamp.

"Feels cool," she said. "Now it's warming up."

"The water in the hose lost its heat," I remarked.

Helen began taking deep, deliberate breaths through her mouth. "Any cramping?" I asked.

"Nothing serious. I feel pressure build and release. Then, further up my side it builds and releases again."

I watched the bag deflate as Helen continued her deep breathing. "It's down a third or so," I said and snapped shut the clamp. "Time to roll over." She rolled onto her back as I minded the hose. "Get comfortable. You're past the worst of it."

"Okay ... ready," she said.

I again held up the bag and snapped open the clamp. Helen resumed her deep breathing. "It's flowing in fast," I remarked. "Any cramping?"

"All I feel is the warmth and fullness flowing deep into my belly," she said. "I love how that feels."

"Almost ready for you to roll onto your right side..." I snapped shut the clamp and Helen used that as a cue to roll over, her knees bent.

"Okay," she said.

I opened the clamp again and held up the bag as the last of its contents drained into her bottom. "You're done," I said. "How do you feel?"

"About like I did after the first one last night," she replied.

I slid the nozzle from her bottom. "Roll onto your back and see how long you can hold it."

"Okay..."

I opened her robe to expose her abdomen and placed my palms on her sides. "I can feel the fullness in your belly," I said as I gently palpitated her abdomen.

"Let me feel... You're right -- I can feel it, too. I'm also starting to feel that I-gotta-go sensation."

"Hold the enema until the urge is strong," I said.

"It feels like last night -- crampy pressure coming in waves.' She grimaced and grunted. "Uhn... That was a strong one ... Another coming ... oh!" She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. A gurgle came from her belly. "Another like that and I'll have an accident."

"Then, go."

Helen got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom. After about fifteen minutes she returned, her robe untied and her hands on her belly. "Lots came out," she said. "Not like yesterday but I can't believe how much accumulated in twenty-four hours."

"Do you want another?" I asked.

"What do you think?"

"I'll get it ready." Helen watched as I filled the bag with two quarts of warm water. "I'll make this one five pints. Want to see me fit five pints into a two-quart bag?"

"I'd like to see that," she replied.

I filled the quart measure half full. Then I put the cap on the bag, held it aloft and put the end of the hose in the measuring cup. By releasing the clamp I let water flow through the hose to expel air. After closing the clamp I set the bag on the floor and opened it again to let the water in the measure siphon into the bag.

Once all the water was in the bag I closed the clamp and picked up the bag. It was heavy and bloated. "You can't do that with an open-top bag," I said.

"Wow, that thing looks mean," she said.

"That's what five pints looks like ... and it's all going here." I pointed to her belly.

Helen climbed onto the bed and lay on her left side. "You can take this one on your back, now that you're cleaned out," I said as I spread her cheeks and worked lube into her orifice. "Here comes the nozzle..." Rocking and rotating the rounded tip against her anus I eased it in. Once the tip was clear of her anal canal I eased it back and slid it into her rectum, all the way.

She rolled onto her back and adjusted a pillow under her head. "Comfy?" I asked.

"Yeah... Ready."

I held up the bag, snapped open the clamp and her eyes popped. "It's warmer than the last."

"I made it 108 degrees," I said.

"Oh, it feels good ... the warmth flowing into me. It's flowing fast."

"Stretching the rubber by overfilling the bag gives it a bit of a kick at the start. Is it too fast? Are you feeling any pressure or cramping?"

"No ... I just feel my tummy filling up." She ran her hands along her abdomen. "I can feel fullness already." She began taking deep breaths. I watched her belly heave up and down. As the enema progressed her belly began to swell. Helen patted her abdomen. "Feeling full now. How much is left?"

"A pint or a little more," I said. "Relax your belly and let it fill. Pant like a dog and use your ribs."

She parted her lips and panted shallow breaths as the last of the enema drained into her bottom. I snapped shut the clamp and eased the nozzle from between her legs.

"My tummy is huge," she said. "Feel it."

I gently palpitated her belly. "You can feel the structures of your colon," I remarked.

"Yeah... I'm swollen down here..." She pointed to the lower left quadrant of her abdomen. "I can feel my whole colon. Look how big I am here."

"That's your cecum," I replied. "It fills up like a football."

"Wow. Now I have to go." She stood, pulled back her robe and admired her distended abdomen in the mirror. Then she headed into the bathroom.

I took the opportunity to strip to my briefs. When I heard the toilet flush I hid in the closet.

Helen emerged, hands on her abdomen. "Oh, I feel good," she said, "that empty, mellow, relaxed feeling in my tummy... Eric?" I came up behind her, wrapped my arms around her and began nuzzling her neck. "Whoa! You startled me ... not that I mind being startled this way." She tilted her head and I continued kissing and nuzzling her neck.

Putting one arm behind her knees and the other around her shoulders I scooped her off her feet and carried her to the bed. "I kinda like this," she said. "I like feeling your strength."

Setting her onto the bed I lay beside her. We kissed passionate kisses and engaged in some tongue games. "Did the enemas make you horny again?" I asked.

"What do you think?"

"I think you just answered another question with a question." I began caressing her breast through the smooth satin of her robe. "But, I'll take that as a yes."

"I don't want to get your hopes up," she replied, "but I am a bit too tender from last night for any back-door action."

"Not too tender for enemas," I remarked.

She shook her head. "Uhn-uhn."

"Variety is the spice of life," I remarked as I continued caressing her breasts. Her nipples began firming under the fabric. "I think you have such pretty breasts," I said as I turned back her robe. "I love your areolas -- their pigmentation, their texture..." I rimmed her nipple with my fingertip. "...these little pebbly bumps."

Helen held my face against her breast and I nursed, drawing as much of her flesh into my mouth as I could. I held her around her shoulder blades and caressed her back. She pressed her mons against my thigh. "Other side," she whispered and held my face against her right breast.

I eased her onto her back, lifted her knees and spread her thighs. Lying between them I stroked her labia. "You are wet down here," I remarked as I spread them. "That little clitty sure is firm." Her belly and thighs jerked as I stroked it.

I drew her clit between my lips and began stroking it with a sucking motion. Helen stretched out her arms and I reached under her thighs to cup my hands over her breasts. Her heart already was pounding. "This is such luxury," she said, "lying here and being pleasured... It's building fast, Eric. It's going to take me no time at all."

She was right -- within a minute orgasmic waves were crashing over her. I reached for her hands and we locked fingers -- the connection seemed to make her orgasms stronger. "Enough," she finally gasped.

I came up from between her legs and she covered my face with kisses. "You taste like ... me," she remarked.

"I love your natural fragrances," I replied. "I love the scent of your pussy and the scent of your hair."

Helen slid her robe off her shoulders. She pushed me onto my back, stripped off my briefs and caressed my thighs. Then, she mounted me, cowgirl-style and leaned back, supporting herself on her arms. I placed my hands on her thighs.

She began riding me up and down. "You're against my G-spot like this," she said. "I might have another."

"How's this?" I asked and pressed my thumb against her clit."

"Too much!" I moved my thumb higher on her clitoral shaft. "That's good."

She continued riding me and I added some thrusting of my hips. Helen reached for her breasts while supporting herself with her other arm. "I'm gonna come," she said and I increased the vigor of my thrusting. She lifted her face and moaned.

Leaning forward she placed her hands on my breasts and smiled. "That felt good -- not as strong as before, but really good."

"I would give anything to know what you experience while climaxing."

"It's different every time." She teased my nipples with her fingertips and began riding me again, this time slow, full strokes. "This feel good?"

"Real good."

"I thought so..."

My climax was rapidly approaching. I put my hands on her hips and pressed into her as I shot my load into her pussy.

We cuddled and she pressed her mons against my thigh. "You were pretty wet down there after the enemas," I remarked. "They do really turn you on."

"The first one not so much," she replied. "I'm mainly concerned with taking it without cramping. The second one was very arousing -- the warmth rushing into my belly and the fullness."

"Second enemas are like that. Not only does the first one clean you out, it relaxes your colon and makes it receptive to another filling."

She stroked my face. "I can't believe how in tune you are with me. What we did just now was exactly what I needed. I can't believe how horny enemas make me. Is that normal?"

"It's not abnormal," I replied. "There's a kink called klismaphilia -- love of enemas. Both men and women can have it."

"I guess I have it," she replied.

I kissed her lips. "The good news is -- there's no cure for it ... mainly because no one with it wants to be cured of it."

"Did Linda have it?" she asked.

"I'm not saying another word about Linda."

"I need to know that you're not reliving your time with Linda vicariously through me."

"Absolutely not, Helen. What she and I had was purely physical. We had no emotional connection and I don't think either of us ever uttered the words, I love you. With you it's totally different. I love you. I love you more than anyone in my life and that includes my immediate family, and our physical love is an extension of our emotional and spiritual love. As such it's infinitely more meaningful and satisfying to me."

Helen's eyes started to brim. "I needed to hear you say that."

"She's out of the picture. You're the one who matters to me." She gave me a long and tender kiss. "Are you okay now?"

"Yes. I won't bring her up again, either." She resumed cuddling against me and I resumed caressing her. "I wonder..."

"You wonder what?" I asked.

"I wonder what it would be like to climax while taking an enema."

Chapter VIII

I opened Helen's dresser drawer and retrieved her vibrator. "Are you going to use that on me?" she asked.

"No. You're going to use it on you. I'll be busy holding up the bag. We need to invest in a stand. There's a hospital supply place I know of. I'll type up a phony purchase order on hospital letterhead and pay for it with my credit card -- get it for wholesale."

She followed me into the bathroom. "Make it hot like the last one but a bit less volume. That one really did get uncomfortable toward the end."

"If I fill the bag to the tippy-top it holds two quarts and about four ounces."

"That sounds right."

I opened the faucet on the hot side to warm it up. In the meantime I dashed to the kitchen and returned with a container of salt. Adjusting the faucet I ran the tap until the thermometer read 108. "Since this is your third enema tonight I'm adding some salt to it. I don't want your electrolytes getting out of whack. This also will reduce your need to get up and whiz in the middle of the night." Using my palm to measure a couple teaspoons' worth of salt I dumped it in the measuring cup and filled it with water. Then I filled the bag to the brim with plain water. After capping it I blew air into the hose before shaking the bag to mix the salt and then inverting it and flushing out air. "Why did you do that," she asked, "blow into the hose?"

"Some headroom in the bag helps it drain completely," I said as I affixed the nozzle. "It also makes it easier to mix the contents so they're uniform."

Helen lay on our bed on her side. I caressed her buttocks and thighs. "You have the sexiest bottom," I said. "It's round and firm and smooth." She giggled as I kissed her buttocks, hips and the small of her back.

Then I spread her and lubed her anus. It glistened with the slick gel as I worked the tip into her orifice. The nozzle slid effortlessly into her rectum, up to its hilt. She lay on her back, fully nude. I handed the vibrator to her. "Use this when you think the time is ripe," I said and lifted the bag.

Helen lifted her knees and lowered them to spread her thighs, the soles of her feet touching. "Ready," she said. I snapped open the clamp. "I love the initial inrush of cool water ... then it heats up and I love that feeling. Can you slow it down a little? I want to savor."

I closed the clamp one notch. "Better?"

"Mmm... Better. I feel the warmth deep in my tummy already. I love that feeling" She turned on the vibrator, adjusted the speed and pressed the device's shaft between her labia. "You know at one time and not that long ago I'd be way too self-conscious to use this in front of you. Not any more... This all feels so good, Eric."

Helen's eyelids drooped, her lips parted and her jaw relaxed. Her left hand moved to her chest and she began teasing her small, firm nipples. The bag was about half empty and I could already see her belly start to swell.

She slid the vibrator in her slit until its tip was against her clit. Her thighs began to quiver and her breathing grew heavy.

Helen placed her hand on her belly and ran her fingers along the outline of her colon. Then she resumed pinching her nipples.

The sight had reinvigorated my flagging erection -- her nude body, the look of arousal on her face, her sleek legs spread with the enema nozzle plugged into her anus. I could see her juices oozing out between her inner lips, coating the hilt of the nozzle and dripping onto the towel under her hips.

"Oh! This is so intense!" she gasped. Her breathing became vocal panting and I knew she would be coming soon. I snapped the clamp fully open. She drew in a breath, drew up her thighs, lifted her face and moaned. Helen pinched her left nipple and pulled on it. She panted and moaned again and a flush covered her face and neck.

Helen lifted the vibrator. Eyes closed and mouth open she panted as she regained her breath, and her belly made random twitches. A broad grin crossed her face and she switched off the vibrator. "That was amazing," she said. "The pressure was building as the tension built down here."

"The enema finished about the same time as you did," I remarked as I closed the clamp and set the empty bag on the bed.

"I feel full but not too full," she said. "The warmth feels good."

"Can you hold it for a little while?" I asked.

"I think so ... for a little while."

"Good." I turned her so she lay athwart the bed, her buttocks on the edge of the mattress, the nozzle still embedded in her bottom. Spreading her thighs I adjusted my stance so my manhood was aligned with her ladyparts and eased into her.

"That feels good," she said. "You feel big and hard."

"I'm taking you this way so I don't put pressure on your belly," I said. "You feel tighter than normal -- probably because your rectum is inflated with water and squeezing your vagina." Putting my hands on her firm and bulging abdomen I began thrusting in and out. With my fingers I traced the outline of her distended colon. Helen's abdomen normally was taut and flat and I had no difficulty feeling its structure.

"This feels good, Eric," she said. "You're giving my G-spot some stimulation."

"Enough for you to come again?" I asked.

"Probably not but that's okay. Go ahead and have yours."

I continued rocking my hips, my cadence increasing as I felt my climax nearing. Grunting I pushed into her and ejaculated.

I eased the nozzle from her and helped her stand. "You probably want to go, now," I remarked.

"Come with me?"

We went into the en suite. Helen sat on the toilet and I sat on the edge of the tub. She lifted her face, closed her eyes and expelled a long gush of water into the bowl. "Feels so good pushing it out," she said. "I think there's something orgasmic about a big enema -- there's the buildup, the tension and then the release."

"I never thought of it that way," I remarked.

She released another long gush. "I can feel my colon deflating and my tummy going back to normal. I love that feeling."

"Linda said expelling an enema is half the fun."

"I thought you weren't going to mention her."

"I'm not going to discuss what she and I practiced," I replied, "except to say some of what you and I have done is what she and I did and some of it has been totally original."

Helen pressed her hand to her abdomen. "I can feel the water moving up and across and filling my rectum," she said and pushed out more. "I think I'm almost done. I'll sit here a bit longer in case more drains out. I was thinking, Eric. All couples have sex. I wonder how many have the kind of sex we had tonight."

"Not many," I replied, "but probably more than you'd expect."

"I think it is something special we have. We're sharing something that's deeply personal and deeply nurturing. You've helped me discover many things about myself, and discovering this is a powerful bond between us." She grunted and expelled a small amount. "I think I'm done." She reached for the tissue and cleaned herself off. "Just a little color in the water," she remarked. "I'm really clean inside, now." She pressed the flush handle.

We snuggled in our bed. Helen ran her fingers through my chest hair. "I meant what I said in the bathroom," she said. "You introducing me to enemas and anal play has strengthened the trust I have in you ... in us and in our love. Before last week I considered that part of my body taboo ... filthy. I didn't want to touch it and if someone else wanted to touch it, it was perverse for them and disgusting to me. No longer. If I can trust you with my rectum ... what can I NOT trust you with?"

"Love is giving and trusting," I replied.

"Then the past two days have strengthened our love."

"Shall we look for a ring this weekend?" I asked.

"I told you -- I don't need a ring."

"Would it hurt to look?"

"I suppose not."

Holding hands Helen and I stepped into a jeweler's in a local strip mall. I recognized the sales clerk on duty. "Allison! I didn't know you worked here."

"Eric, it's been a long time."

"Helen -- this is Allison Blake..."

"Now Allison Keene," the clerk said holding up her left hand.

"Allison -- my finacee Helen Jaffee. Helen -- Allison and I dated in high school."

"How can I help?" Allison asked.

"We're looking for an engagement ring -- nothing fancy, just a solitaire."

"Newly engaged," Allison remarked. " How sweet. Congratulations. You make a lovely couple."

"Thanks," I said.

"We want something that won't break the budget," Helen added.

"What is the budget?" Allison asked.

"We were hoping for something under a thousand," I replied. "Twelve hundred, tops."

"Eric doesn't need to prove his love by spending an entire paycheck or two on a ring for me," Helen added. "He loves me and I know it."

"I see... Here's a new line for us that's very affordable," Allison said and unlocked a display case. "Do you know your size?"

"A five I think we figured," I replied.

Allison brought out a gold band with a solitaire stone. "That's very pretty," Helen remarked.

"Try it on."

Helen slid the ring onto her finger. "That looks very nice on you," I added. "How's the fit?"

"The fit is perfect," Helen replied. "This looks way too nice."

"What's the price?" I asked.

"Eight fifty," Allison replied. "It's a one and a half carat stone in a ten karat setting."

"Eight hundred fifty? Dollars?" I asked.

"That's right."

"It can't be a real diamond for that price," Helen said. "Is it cubic zirconia?"

"It's a Moissanite," Allison answered. "Moissanite is a lab-grown crystal of silicon carbide. They're fairly new on the market."

"Silicon carbide," I repeated. "It makes a very pretty stone."

"The optical, conductivity and hardness properties are very similar to a diamond. These are popular with couples on a budget. Unless you're an expert, you'd never guess it's not a diamond."

"It is a pretty ring," I said and looked at Helen. Her gray eyes were shifting from me to the stone to Allison and back again. "You'd be bothered knowing it's not a real diamond, wouldn't you?" I looked at Allison. "Can we see something with a real diamond?"

"Certainly." Allison opened another display case and returned with another ring. "This is an eighteen karat setting. The diamond is just under one carat."

"Looking at them side-by-side, I do think the first ring is prettier," I said. "The stone is visibly larger and has more fire. How much is it?"

"Three thousand five hundred," Allison replied. "The diamond doesn't have quite the clarity or brilliance of the Moissanite. A diamond of equal size and quality would add another thousand or more to the price."

I let out a whistle. Shit! I'm screwed, I thought. She's going to want a real diamond and a nice one, too. I don't know where I'm going to come up with that kind of money... I looked at Allison. "Is financing available?"

"We can work with you on that," she replied.

"Helen... Can you get past the fact it's not a real stone?"

"The stone is real enough," Allison replied, "it's just not a diamond."

Helen furrowed her brow and I could almost hear the gears turning in her head. She looked at me. "You once called me a green girl," she finally said. "I've tried to live my life in a socially and environmentally responsible way. I remember seeing a documentary on public television about the diamond trade. They had stories about blood diamonds ... child labor, virtual slavery and how the cartels keep diamond prices inflated. Knowing the stone came from a lab and not from exploited labor eases my conscience. I'd rather have this than a diamond. And, it is so much more affordable."

"It really looks good on you, Helen," Allison added.

"Will you be happy with it?" I asked.

Helen shook her head. "I'll be deliriously happy with it. I love it. I absolutely love it."

"Allison -- you've made a sale," I said.

"Shall I wrap it up?"

"Wrap up the box," Helen replied. "I'll wear it home."

Helen held my hand as we headed away from the jeweler's. "I didn't think I needed this," she said, admiring her ring. "I was wrong. It's a beautiful ring and I'll wear it with pride."

"I'm glad you have it, too. Guys will see it and know you're taken."

She giggled. "Do you really think some guy is going to try to snatch me away from you?"

"I can't be the only man to appreciate your charms."

"You're the only one I've met. If another one is out there -- the only way he'll snatch me away from you would be if he uses chloroform."

"I think we should do something special to celebrate being officially engaged," I said.

"Like what? Dinner at the Reef?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of the Velvet Room at Farley's."

"Oooh... Won't that be awfully expensive?"

"Well, I might need to dip into my reserves to pay this month's Visa bill ... but that's what reserves are for. When we get home I'll see about reservations."

I was tying my tie when Helen approached. "Well? Do I look Velvet Room worthy?"

She modeled her outfit for me -- a mid-thigh length little black dress, sleeveless and with a low enough neckline to show plenty of her upper chest but sufficiently modest. She wore black high-heeled sandals with long laces that criss-crossed her calves and shins, tying just below the knee. The heels added loft to an already tall girl and shape to her already shapely calves. Helen's long brown hair was held back with a simple black headband. "You look stunning. Prepare thyself for getting looks tonight." I kissed her lips and caressed her face. "Do you know what I like about you most ... appearance-wise?"

"What?"

"That you don't wear makeup. You have a fresh, natural face ... and you're a damned sexy woman."

"I'm glad you think so." she replied. "I'm believe you."

"I don't want you believing me. I want you to internalize it. Ready to go?"

She picked up a small black purse. "Ready."

I slipped into my navy blazer to go with my gray dress pants. We headed to the garage. "Shall we take my car tonight? Farley's has valet parking and your Leaf might baffle the parking attendants."

"Sure. You know the way and I don't."

I headed onto Grand, took the short highway spur to downtown and turned onto Walnut Street. "I've heard of Farley's," Helen said. "I don't know much about it."

"It's a downtown landmark. The lower level is Farley's Pub and Grill -- they have informal dining with pub meals. Their Rueben sandwich is a specialty. Upstairs is the Velvet Room -- fine dining. Jackets and ties are required for the gentlemen."

"And, for the ladies?" she asked.

"Your outfit more than passes muster," I replied.

"Have you been there before?"

"I've been to the pub many times, but only once to the Velvet Room. Years ago my folks brought us all here for my mom's birthday."

"You were able to get reservations?" Helen asked. "I'd hate to show up and be turned away."

"When I called they weren't open yet, so I went on line and used Open Table. We should be good."

I spotted the awning for Farley's and pulled to the curb. A young parking attendant approached me. "Reservations?"

"Gleason, party of two, Velvet Room," I replied.

He opened the passenger door and Helen stepped out. I joined her on the sidewalk. The attendant handed me a claim check. "Enjoy your evening, sir ... mam."

I watched him pull the car away from the curb; then, holding hands we went inside. The hostess led us upstairs to the Velvet Room and seated us at our table. "Your server will be with you shortly. Are we celebrating any special occasion tonight?" Helen held out her left hand. "Oh! That's quite a sparkler. Congratulations." She set menus before us.

Helen opened hers and I opened mind. "Eric -- there aren't any prices on the menu."

"They're on mine. It's a Velvet Room tradition that the ladies' menus don't have prices. The idea is, that way you won't deliberately pick the cheapest ... or, the most expensive item, but instead what interests you. What is your heart's desire?"

"I desire to see the prices." She reached for my menu but I held it away from her. "Eric -- you've already spent a lot on the ring."

"If you knew the prices you'd order the cheapest entree, whether you liked it or not."

"I always do, especially if someone else is paying. I'd feel like I was taking advantage otherwise. Now, let me see your menu."

I reached for her hand and looked into her eyes. "Helen ... getting engaged is a once in a lifetime event for me."

"And, for me."

"I know you're frugal. Put that aside for now. I want this evening to be special, for a special event and a special woman. Okay?"

Her eyes began to brim and a tear ran down her face. "Okay..." She took a handkerchief from her bag. "One advantage of not wearing makeup is I don't have mascara to run..." she said and daubed her face. "I love you so much."

While Helen scanned her menu I was looking over the wine list. Our server approached. "Good evening, folks. I understand we're celebrating an engagement."

"Yes we are," I said and I reached for Helen's left hand.

"Congratulations. Would you like something from the bar?"

"I think," I said, pointing to the wine list, "we'd like a bottle of this put on ice to chill. We'll open it with dinner."

"Very good... Are we ready to order?"

"Not quite."

"I'll be back in a bit."

Helen bit her lip and furrowed her brow. "I can't decide. What are you having?"

"I'm having the mixed seafood grill," I replied.

"That was one of my finalists."

"If you want it, go ahead and order it. I'll pick something else -- I don't want us both having the same thing. Then we can't taste each other's dinners."

"No... The rock lobster risotto is edging it out. I would like to sample yours, though."

The server returned with an ice bucket. He showed me the label on the bottle and I nodded in approval. "Let it get good and cold," I said.

"Are we ready to order?"

"Yes," I replied. "The rock lobster risotto for the lady and I'll have the mixed grill."

"Excellent selections," he said and removed the menus from the table.

I glanced over Helen's shoulder. "The guy in that table over there is checking you out," I said softly.

"Is he really?" She glanced that direction and then rolled her eyes.

"I told you that you'd be getting looks."

"I'm still not accustomed to it. I'll admit I do feel like Cinderella tonight. On Monday I'll be back at work -- mousy, frumpy, nerdy researcher wearing sensible shoes and my hair in a bun."

"You're not frumpy," I replied, "and never have been. And, you're not nor never have been mousy."

"What about nerdy?"

"You said it. I didn't."

Her jaw dropped "It finally comes out! You think I'm a nerd!"

"I love nerdy girls," I replied, "that is, if nerdy means highly intelligent, working in the sciences and making vital contributions to mankind. That's the kind of nerd you are and I love you for it."

"You are a world-class bullshitter, Eric. And I'm going to marry you."

Helen held my hand as I drove toward home. "What an evening," she said. "That meal was over the top. The Champagne was over the top. Farley's is over the top." She leaned and kissed my cheek. "If your intent was an evening to remember, this is it. I will never forget this day."

"The manager knocked half the price off the Champagne, in honor of our engagement. And, the valet parking is complimentary with a Velvet Room receipt."

"That's something at least."

I approached the garage and spotted a package propped up against the front door. "I wonder what that is..."

We headed into the condo and I opened the front door to retrieve the package. "What is it?" Helen asked.

"It's the hospital-grade I.V. stand I ordered. It must've been delivered while we were out."

"I thought you were going to pick one up from the supply house," she replied.

"I checked out prices online and this is just as good and cheaper. Ordering online means it's point, click and get it in two days."

"Put it together. I want to try it out."

"You always are eager to play with new toys," I said. as I opened the box. "Some assembly required, indeed."

Chapter IX

I hung my blazer in the closet and retrieved my toolbox from the garage. Following the instructions I put the gadget together, attaching the casters on the base and the hanging hooks on the pole. Finished, I put my tools back in the garage and the cardboard carton in the recycle bin.

Carrying it upstairs I stepped into our bedroom. Helen had indeed made preparations. There was a towel on the bed, the enema bag was lying, empty on a chair and the nightstand lamps were turned down low. I positioned the stand near the bed and adjusted the height.

Helen emerged from the closet in her satin robe. "Here it is," I said, "ready for hands-free action."

"I can hardly wait."

"I see you're prepared."

"Yes and you need to be prepared, too." She approached me, untied my necktie and began unbuttoning my dress shirt. She pulled the tails out of my waistband and slid the shirt off my shoulders. Then she unfastened my belt and undid my pants. I slipped off my shoes and stepped from them and pulled off my socks.

"So what is your big idea?" I asked.

"Tonight, I am giving enemas to you." she replied.

"Wait, what? Helen -- I'm not into them the way you are. I mean, I don't mind it for therapeutic purposes, bur recreationally -- they leave me flaccid."

"Maybe you're not trying hard enough. Eric -- I'm too full from dinner. You said taking an enema on a full stomach is a bad idea."

"Yeah it is. What makes you think I'm any less full?"

"You're bigger than I am and can hold more. Besides, your mixed grill wasn't nearly as filling as my risotto."

"You didn't have to eat it all -- you could've brought some home."

"I think a doggie bag from a place like that is rather ... pedestrian," she replied and approached me. "And I wasn't going to let it go to waste. Please? You keep saying love is giving and trust. You've introduced me to experiences I thought I wouldn't like but ended up loving. Please? Don't make me beg."

"All right -- if this is what you want to do, we'll do it."

"I love you." She kissed my cheek. "I'll put everything together. You get comfortable."

I lay in my briefs on our bed, the towel under my midsection and thighs. Helen returned with the enema bag full and bulging. She hung it on the stand. I saw she had attached the straight enema pipe. "Why not the douche tip?" I asked.

"What's wrong with this?"

"It's too easy for it to slip out."

"Don't worry -- I'll hold it in place. We don't need these..." She grasped the waistband of my briefs. I lifted my hips and she slid them off my legs. Then she slipped off her robe. Underneath was the white peek-a-boo gown she had bought in San Francisco. "Think of this as a sexy nurse's uniform," she said, wiggling her hips.

Helen picked up the tube of lube and snapped it open. "This is a heady experience for me, too," she said. "I've never done anything like this. You know the drill -- left side, knees up."

I rolled over. She caressed my thighs and buttocks. "You have a nice butt, too," she remarked. "I like it that it's not too hairy..." I felt her fingers spread my cheeks and the cold gel applied to my bottom. Helen worked her finger into my anus and then inserted the tip.

I rolled into position -- left arm behind back, half on stomach and side, right heel against left knee. "Is this one of the positions you mentioned?" she asked.

"Yeah -- this is the Sims position."

"I like how it shows off your butt." Holding the hose to keep the tip fully inserted she snapped open the clamp.

I immediately felt the cool onrush followed by warmth as the enema began percolating into my colon. I began taking long, deep breaths and working my abdominal muscles to help work the liquid in deeper. I could feel pressure build and release, then build and release again as the bolus of water worked its way up my left side. Helen held the nozzle in with her left hand and with her right she caressed by buttocks, thighs and lower back. I understood what she meant when she said it was a nurturing experience. Despite myself, I found it all quite arousing.

When I felt a gurgle under my left ribcage I figured the water was about to start crossing my belly as my transverse colon filled.

"Do you want to roll over?" Helen asked. "I can stop the flow."

"No -- I can stay like this for the whole thing."

"Looks like about half done," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm starting to feel the fullness. No cramping, no discomfort."

"I remember you saying that you shouldn't administer an enema without knowing what it feels like. Having taken them, I know what it is you're experiencing."

"So, you're getting a vicarious thrill out of this?"

"I guess I am."

By now I could feel the water under my right ribcage. Looking up at the bag I saw maybe a pint remaining. My belly definitely was getting full. The bag continued to drain until a soft gurgle indicated it was empty. "I think we're done," I said.

"Yup." Helen slipped the enema pipe from my bottom.

I rolled over and palpitated my belly. "I'm starting to feel cramping already," I said. "Did you put something in this other than plain water?"

"A little castile soap," she replied.

"Where did you get that idea?"

"From enema sites on-line. I used an ounce of an unscented liquid castile in 2 quarts of water."

The cramping became more pronounced. "An ounce?" I made a mental calculation. "That's two tablespoons -- a pretty husky dose."

"It's what the website said," she replied.

"Where did you get liquid castile?"

"I stopped at the drugstore on my way home yesterday."

The cramping and pressure was building fast in my belly. "What else did you glean from on-line?" I asked.

"Mostly what I read confirmed what you told me."

I was suddenly hit with a powerful urge to release. Tightening the muscles in my bottom and my sphincter I held it back until it passed. "Well, if you want to know what soapsuds feel like, next time you're bound up we can try some."

Another urge, stronger than the first built in the lower left quadrant of my belly. Grunting, I closed my eyes and it required all my willpower to hold it back and a groaning gurgle came from somewhere inside me. "Another one like that and we'll have a huge mess to clean up," I said as I rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

What transpired therein was a gut-wrenching experience to be sure. I endured strong cramps and irresistible urges to bear down as my colon desperately attempted to rid itself of the soapsuds. By the time I had expelled everything, I was sweating.

"That was a workout," I said as I stepped back into the bedroom. I could see Helen had refilled the bag and hung it on the stand. "You need to experience soapsuds to appreciate their impact."

"Fair enough," she replied. "Next time, it's soapsuds for me. I hope I didn't make you too uncomfortable."

"No lasting damage," I replied. "I see the straight pipe has been replaced by the douche tip."

"What you said about it being easier to hold in place ... I want both hands free for the next one."

"You don't scare me," I replied with a smile. I lay on my left side again. Helen worked more lube into my orifice and then I felt the bulbous tip of the douche nozzle intruding into my anal canal. As I had done with her she tilted it back and eased it all the way in until I felt the hose fitting against my pucker.

She eased me onto my back and began caressing my legs. "I want you nice and relaxed," she said.

I looked up at the bag. "How much water?" I asked.

"Five pints. I used your siphon method to get the bag overfilled."

"Oh, you did, did you?"

She ran her hands along my sides. Seeing her in that gown with her breasts exposed and outlined with white satin was causing my loins to stir. Helen snapped open the clamp. Again I felt the cool onrush and then -- heat. "This feels hot," I said.

"I like them hot."

"Did you use the thermometer?"

"Of course. It read 115."

"A hundred fifteen! I've never made one that hot for you."

"The website said no hotter than 115 degrees Fahrenheit."

"This is pretty hot. Helen -- you can't trust everything you read on the Internet."

The hot spray in my rectum was having an unanticipated impact. I'm sure it was inadvertent and I'm sure if we tried we'd never replicate it, but she had managed to position the douche nozzle so that the outlet holes were aimed at my prostate. The hot water spraying against the wall of my rectum and stimulating that gland was powerfully arousing, and it was giving me a strong erection -- which did not go unnoticed.

"I see you found something to like about this enema," she said and wrapped her fingers around my stiffening shaft.

"The hot water is doing it," I said. "I feel it against my prostate."

"Do you want me to move the nozzle?" she asked.

"No -- this feels really good." By now the bag was about half empty. I felt the warmth throughout my entire abdomen and I could start feeling the fullness.

Helen knelt on the bed near my chest and began caressing my arms. "I want to play with you while the enema finishes," she said. "I think you have a nice build. I like your arms. You tell me mine are sexy but yours are, too. I like feeling your strength, Eric, especially when it's tempered by your tenderness. I like the hair on your chest, too." She ran her hands along my breasts. "You're not too hairy ... just right."

She began running her fingertips across my nipples, which firmed to her touch. If a woman's nipples are hard-wired to her clit, then a guy's must be hard-wired to his dick. At least, this guy's are, and Helen's touch was further arousing me. By now my manhood was rock hard, my pulse was throbbing in it and my glans was super-sensitized to the point that looking at it crossways would trigger an orgasm.

The enema finished draining into my belly. The hot spray was replaced by warm pressure against my prostate and that was equally arousing. Helen continued running her fingers in circles around my nipples and I could feel my heart beating faster as the tension grew to be unbearable.

She began running her nails across my nipples and that was what knocked the chocks out from under me. I experienced a powerful orgasm that sent hot, white spurts onto my belly and left me sweating and panting. She looked at me, her mouth agape. "I ... I didn't expect that," she said and began rubbing one of the blobs into my skin.

"Neither did I," I panted as my breathing and heart rate returned to normal.

"That was quite a squirt," she said as she mopped the blobs of cum from me with some tissues.

"You created a perfect storm -- the hot water, spraying against my prostate, you in that sexy outfit and caressing my erogenous zones. It all built until I reached the point of no return."

She wrapped her fingers around my softening organ. "I didn't even need to touch it."

"It all happened with my internal wiring," I said.

"I didn't know a guy could do that."

"I didn't know this guy could do it until it happened. A lot of it was the heat and pressure against my prostate. It's been called the male G-spot."

"Good to know." Helen closed the clamp and pulled the nozzle from me. "How's the tummy?"

"Full -- not uncomfortably so."

"See? I told you that you could hold more." She ran her hands along my abdomen. "I can feel the fullness in there. I even think I can feel the warmth from the water in your colon."

"I bet if you had one of those thermal cameras you could take a picture of my colon," I replied.

"Can you hold it a little while longer?"

"A little while I guess."

"Good." Helen stripped off the sheer white panties that matched her gown. She climbed atop me on elbows and knees, her breast near my lips.

I put my hands on her sides and stroked her nipples with my thumbs. "Those little nipples sure do get firm," I remarked.

"Make me come."

I put my left hand on her back and with my right reached under her and slipped a finger into her slit. "It's hot and wet in here," I remarked.

"Those panties were sopping," she replied.

"So that was arousing you?"

"Very much. Make me come, Eric. I need it." She lowered her shoulders until her nipple brushed my lips. "Nurse," she said. "I like feeling your hand on my back."

I lifted my head so I could draw her nipple and areola into my mouth and massage it with my tongue. I pressed my finger against her firmly engorged clit and stroked it. That she was aroused was clear -- her heart was pounding and soon her breathing was the vocal panting I knew meant her climax was within reach.

"More," she gasped and I stroked her clit with all the vigor I could muster. Her heart's racing was transmitted through her flesh to my lips. "Coming!" she panted. She lifted her face and let out a shriek. "Don't stop don't stop," she panted and I continued stroking her clit. Her face was contorted and her breathing alternated from moaning to loud panting.

"Enough!" she gasped. I caressed her buttocks and thighs as she came down from the heights of her arousal. Helen covered my face with kisses. "I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," I replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, this enema wants out in a really bad way."

She rolled off of me. I sat up, stood and headed for the loo. "Wait," she said. "Let me see your tummy." I turned sideways to her and ran my hand along my abdomen. It was noticeably distended from the volume of water. "Nice," she said.

I stepped into the en suite and as soon as I sat on the toilet my colon discharged a warm surge that felt like it originated somewhere near my navel. The enema came out in long, satisfying gushes that relieved the pressure in my belly. By the time I was done the heavy fullness was replaced by a light, empty relaxation.

I headed back to our bed. Helen was lying on her back, the covers to her chin. She had moved the I.V. stand to a corner of the room, the empty enema bag still hanging from it.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I had forgotten how good you feel after an enema and you gave me a good one. Are you in the mood for one?" I asked.

"I'm still too full from dinner," she replied.

I turned back the covers and saw she was still wearing the peek-a-boo babydoll. She opened her arms to me and I slid between the sheets and held her. "What do you want?" I asked.

"You. I want to cuddle with you." I lay on my back and held her under my arm. She wrapped a leg around mine and reached across me. "I can't seem to be able to hold you tight enough," she said.

"How's this?" I held her around her shoulder blades and slipped my hand under her gown so I could stroke her back and bottom.

"That's nice," she said. She reached for my flaccid manhood. "It's too bad the enema took away your starch."

"Yeah, but it was about the strongest orgasm I've experienced. It's one I'll remember."

"I wanted to ride you, cowgirl style while feeling your full tummy," she said.

"Well... Maybe next time."

"There'll be a next time?"

"You did seem to get a thrill from it. I wouldn't want a steady diet of enemas but once in a while... Promise me -- nix the soap and not quite so hot, okay?"

"Okay." She leaned to kiss my lips. "You are the most generous lover and I do love you so much. You didn't have to agree to me giving you enemas, but you did -- for me."

"There have been times I've suggested things you didn't need to agree to -- but you did," I replied. "You did it for me."

"I did it for us," she said. "You did it for us. I get it. I get it, Eric -- it's what giving and trusting truly means."

Chapter X

Morning light roused me. Helen was lying beside me, awake. "Good morning," I said.

"Morning..."

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"I went already," she replied.

"Well, I need to. I forgot about that aspect of enemas."

When I returned Helen was sitting up, still in her peek-a-boo babydoll and with the covers over her lap. "What should we do today?" I asked.

"Now, I think I need an enema," she said. "My tummy is starting to pooch out. Do we need to wait until tonight?"

"No. Some think first thing in the morning is the best time for one. Have you been having trouble going?"

"Not really ... not like sometimes. I think it has to do with that big dinner last night -- it finally made it's way down here." She put her hand low on her belly.

"If that's what you want to do." I wheeled the stand to bedside and carried the enema bag into the bathroom to fill it. When I returned Helen had pulled up the covers and spread the towel. "Are you going to take this in your nightie?" I asked.

"Sure, why not? I like how I look in it and you have good access to my bottom."

I hung the bag on the stand and reached for the tube of lube. "I put some castile soap in this one," I said as I adjusted the height of the stand.

"How much?"

"Two teaspoons in two quarts ... quite a bit milder than the one you gave me last night."

"That's about a third of what I gave you," she said.

"It's more than enough to be effective."

"I'm really sorry I made it so strong for you. I hope I didn't make you too uncomfortable."

"It was uncomfortable enough," I replied.

She regarded me ruefully. "Are you angry with me?"

"No, I'm not angry with you. It was lack of experience -- something I might have done myself."

"So, you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you," I said, "but let's discuss these things ahead of time."

"Fair enough; though, I wouldn't have blamed you if you gave me what I gave you -- to teach me a lesson."

"Helen -- I would never intentionally do anything to cause you discomfort."

She pressed her palm against my cheek. "I know. I know you wouldn't." She watched as I adjusted the stand. "I see you're making the stand higher."

"You remember me saying you should get an enema into your colon fast before it realizes what hit it? That's especially true of soapsuds. You don't want to stimulate motility before it's all in and have to fight backpressure."

Helen's mouth made an O shape and she nodded in comprehension. "That position you used last night ... Sims. It looks like how I cuddle with you."

"You cuddle with me on your right side. That would be reverse Sims."

"Is that a good way to take an enema?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Some think it's the best way for a high enema. It puts your colon slightly downhill and once the enema finds a passage, it flows down into your cecum. It's almost like filling your colon from top down instead of bottom up."

"I want to try it while cuddling," she said.

"Why don't you lie on your right side and draw up your knees." Helen complied. I spread her buttocks and began working the lubricating gel into her delightful pucker. Then, I inserted the nozzle, easing it all the way into her rectum. This activity always made me hard and being au naturel there was no hiding it.

I moved the stand so I could reach the clamp while lying on the bed. Helen cuddled against me and pulled herself tight against me. She wrapped her left leg around mine and her fingers around my erect phallus. "Suspicions confirmed," she said. "You do get a thrill from doing this."

"I never kept it from you," I replied. I held her around her shoulder blades and reached under her gown to caress the small of her back and buttocks. My finger encountered the hose and nozzle in her anus and I adjusted it to make sure it was in all the way. "Ready?"

"I'm a little apprehensive," she said, "not knowing what to expect."

"You should expect an enema that's amped up a bit," I replied. "Relax and hold onto me. Same rules apply -- any cramping tell me and we'll stop the flow. Ready?"

"Ready." I snapped open the clamp and resumed caressing her back and bottom. "Mmm... I love that initial cool surge and then the warmth. So far it feels like a plain water one. Oh, Eric. Cuddling and having you hold me is so nurturing. I feel so close to you."

Helen's breathing became slow, deep and deliberate. I could feel her abdominal muscles moving against me. "Having cramps?" I asked.

"Just some mild pressure. Deep breathing alleviates it."

"Relax your belly and let it fill," I coached as I caressed her back and bottom.

"Your touch is so soothing, so relaxing," she said. "Now the enema is flowing in easily."

I glanced at the bag. "Looks like about half done."

"I'm starting to feel the fullness," she said as I continued caressing her back, bottom and thigh. "You made it warm. That's how I like them." I regarded the bag and estimated it was about three-fourths done. "I felt bubbles inside near my left side."

"You're doing really well," I said as I stroked her back and buttocks.

"Feeling really full, now. Feels like my tummy is bulging."

"Just a little more. Relax and let it into your colon."

The bag continued to deflate until it was flat and flaccid. By twisting the hose I could turn it sideways to be sure it was empty. "We're done," I said as I snapped shut the clamp. "I'll take the nozzle."

"Leave it in for now," she said. "I like how it feels. I'm feeling the soap already -- a dull sort of nausea."

"Last night I felt it right away. I knew there was something extra in the water. This enema might feel a little different when you expel. It might give you a tingle in your bottom."

She reached for my hand and we locked fingers. "Cramp building," she said.

"Hold it back," I said. "Panting like a dog can help."

Helen took rapid shallow breaths through parted lips. Then she closed her eyes and grimaced. "They're coming stronger and faster -- must be the soap."

"Keep holding it," I coached. "The longer the better."

"I know... I'm trying... Another..." She took more shallow breaths and then grimaced. "They're coming one after another. At least the nozzle is giving me something to clamp down against. Uhnnn..." Helen closed her eyes and grimaced. "It's passing."

"When you think you can't hold it any longer, get up and go," I said.

"Take the nozzle out, now?"

"Okay..." I grasped the hose and eased the nozzle from between her buttocks.

"Strong one," Helen gasped. "She panted and grimaced. Then she rolled onto her back, sat and stood. I watched her head for the bathroom and close the door.

I took the opportunity to carry the empty bag to the main bath where I flushed any remaining soapsuds from it and then filled it to the brim with quite warm water. The thermometer was in the en suite so I had to adjust the temperature by feel. After capping the bag, blowing some air in for headroom and, after flushing air from the hose I carried to the bedroom and hung it on the stand.

She emerged from the bathroom. "How did you make out?" I asked.

"Really good -- I feel really cleaned out."

"And the soapsuds?"

"I liked it," she said. "Soapsuds did give the enema quite a kick. It was like the first one you gave me -- lots came out. And I did feel a little tingle -- a mild burning sensation as I pushed it out." She embraced me and we kissed. "You holding me made it easier for me to hold it. I want to take the first enema of a series like that -- cuddling with you -- and, with soapsuds."

"If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do. I have a bag full of clear water for you. It's a good idea to follow a soapsuds enema with plain water to rinse out any remaining soap. Do you want to take this cuddling?"

"On my back," she replied and lay on the bed on her left side.

Again I buttered her anus with lube, working it into her orifice with my finger; and again I penetrated her pinkish-tan pucker with the ivory-white nozzle, watching her bottom swallow the whole thing up to the hose fitting.

Kneeling on the bed near her hips I grasped the hose. "Ready?"

"Ready." I snapped open the clamp to let the water flow. "Mmm..." she said, "nice and warm."

I spread open her gown and placed my hand on her abdomen, giving it a gentle, counter-clockwise massage to help move the enema deeper into her colon. "Touch feels nice," she said as I caressed her. "Lower?" I moved my hand lower and continued massaging her, my fingers brushing against the top of her bush. "Lower?" she said again and I got the hint.

I began running my fingers up and down through her bush, massaging her mons, gradually working them into her slit. My fingertips crossed her clit and her belly jerked. Probing lower I encountered her copious juices pooling at the entrance of her vagina.

Lying between her thighs I noticed the nozzle had slipped out a couple inches, so I pushed it back in place. Then I spread her labia, kissed and licked their smooth inner surfaces and pushed my tongue into her vagina to taste her juices. Moving up I drew her engorged clit between my lips and began stroking it with my tongue.

Slipping my arms under her thighs I put my right hand on her left breast, its firm nipple between my thumb and forefingers. With my left hand I gently palpitated her belly and could feel fullness developing under the gothic arch of her ribcage.

Helen put her hand on mine and pressed my fingers into her breast. I began stroking her nipple with my thumb. "This feels so good," she said, "the warmth and fullness penetrating into my tummy ... your touch ... so arousing..." Her breathing deepened and became panting and I felt her heart begin to race. She put both hands onto her abdomen. "I can feel my colon filling up," she said. "This is so arousing..." Looking toward her face I could see her belly begin to swell. It rose and fell with her breathing, falling a little less with each exhale.

With Helen stroking her belly I moved my left hand to her right breast and began pinching and tugging both nipples. "Can you move the nozzle around inside me? Just a little?" I reached under her with my right hand and slid the nozzle in and out while continuing to fondle her nipples with my left. "Yes, like that... Oh, God," she gasped. "You're making me come!" She drew in a breath and groaned. I continued tonguing her clit. She reached for my hands and we locked fingers. Helen let out a long, low moan and I felt her pelvic muscles throbbing.

More orgasms crested in her loins, each one making her pelvic muscles throb against my chin. "Oh, enough," she gasped and I lifted my face from between her legs.

I could see the bag was empty, so I closed the clamp and slid the nozzle out of her anus. Her belly was visibly distended from her sternum to her mons. She gingerly stroked it as her panting subsided. "That was amazing," she said. "Absolutely amazing. Now I have to go..." I offered her my hand and helped her sit up. She stood, pulled back her gown and admired her belly in the mirror. "Come with me?"

I followed her into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and expelled long gushes of water. "Feels good pushing it out," she said. I sat on the bathmat near her feet and caressed her shins and thighs. "That feels nice. Your touch always calms me."

"I can't believe you want me here with you," I remarked.

"I wouldn't subject anyone to what transpired during my first expulsion," she replied. "As for the second one -- you were with me when it went in, you might as well be with me when it comes out..." She lifted her face, closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Pressing both hands against her sides she bore down and another long gush hit the porcelain. "My tummy is back to normal ... better than normal."

A few more gushes and she declared herself done. "That one came out pretty clear," she remarked. "I think the soapsuds did a really good job. "

"If you like them, we can certainly use them." Helen embraced me and we kissed. "What do you want, now?" I asked.

She kissed me. "You. I want to feel you big and hard and squirting your sperm ... into my rectum."

"You really want this?"

"Yeah," she replied. "It's become my favorite way."

"Would you like to try anal missionary?" I asked.

"Sure. Tell me what we need to do. I know I'm totally clean down there."

"Totally... First, I want to dilate you." Helen hopped on the bed. "Bottoms-up," I said. She got on her hands and knees and then lowered her shoulders. I folded back her gown.

I started by loving her ass -- I wanted to reinforce that I loved this part of her body as much as any other... I caressed her buttocks and covered them with kisses. Spreading her cheeks I rimmed her anus with my tongue and drove it a short way into her orifice.

Then, after applying a liberal amount of lube to her bottom I worked it into her pucker with my finger. "You keep tensing -- try to relax. Remember how relaxed you were cuddling with me during that enema."

"Mmm... A fond memory."

I added more lube and inserted my fore and middle fingers. "That's better -- you're relaxing and this is going easier." And idea struck me. "Helen -- would you be okay with me using your vibrator to dilate you? I'm not going to switch it on . I think it might be more comfortable for you than me using three fingers."

"Oh, all right," she replied.

I took the device and applied lube to it. It was made of smooth plastic and it was almost as big around as me. Pressing the point to her anus I gently rotated it and slowly eased it in, aiming at the inside of her navel. Once I was sure it was past her anal canal I tipped it down and slid it in a couple more inches. The whole time I was caressing her back and kissing her buttocks. "You okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she replied.

I gently rotated the device so her sphincters would become used to it. Then I slid it out of her and wiped the lube off with a tissue. Her orifice was now wider than my thumb and I wanted to get into her before it closed up again.

"Now for the main event," I said. "Lie on your back and draw back your legs. Hold them behind your knees. Pull them back as far as you can."

Helen complied. "Talk about giving and trust," she said. "I have never felt more exposed in my life."

"Remember, it's me and only me." I slathered my stiff member with lube. Then, I knelt, aiming my glans for her orifice and pushed in. She was dilated enough that I went in effortlessly. Then I leaned over her, which tilted my shaft so it followed the curve of her rectum. Slowly I eased all the way in. "You can let go of your legs," I said and she wrapped them around the small of my back.

I wasn't in as deep as before but the intimacy more than made up for it. I eased my weight onto her, cradled her face in my palms and kissed her lips. "You okay?" I asked.

"I am very okay," she replied.

"No pain? No discomfort?"

"I'm tougher than I look. If I had any complaints, you would have heard them by now."

"Right. I'm sure I would have."

Savoring the intimacy I lifted up on my elbows and regarded her compact breasts outlined by the white satin of her gown. Helen put her hands on my sides and began stroking my nipples with her thumbs. "You like this, don't you. I felt you get bigger and firmer." She began tensing her pelvic muscles and I could feel her sphincter tighten around my shaft. "Feel that?"

"I sure do. This is the most amazing sensation -- you're so tight and moist and warm, as if someone with a velvet glove dipped in hot water had wrapped their fingers around me. Now it feels like you're stroking me."

"You lay still," she said. "I want to make you come all by myself."

Her tensing was giving me subtle friction on my glans, which in my state of arousal required little additional stimulation. Add to that the signals from my nipples as Helen stroked them and I was on the verge of orgasm. She held me there for what felt like forever, the tension building in my loins. Her languid stroking of my nipples with the soft pads of her thumbs and her working the muscles in her bottom was making me harder and harder, almost painfully so. "Your heart is pounding," she remarked. "I like feeling that."

I was so lost in the sensations I was unable to reply. She had brought me to a hair's breadth from climaxing and all I could do was wait for it to happen. I wondered if this was anything like what a woman experienced.

By now my heart was racing and my breathing heavy. Helen smiled, turned her wrists and ran her thumbnails across my nipples. Like before that was the jolt that pushed me over the edge, and the smile she gave me told me she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Uhhhn," I groaned as I pushed deep into her, and grunted as strong spasms pumped my fluids into her.

Helen's eyes widened. "I felt that," she said. "I love feeling you come. I love feeling you get bigger and harder and then start throbbing."

Spent, I closed my eyes and engaged in some mouth breathing until my heart rate returned to normal and I regained my breath. Mellow satisfaction suffused my body. Helen opened her arms to me and I accepted the invitation. I relaxed atop her and she caressed my back while we kissed long and tender kisses.

"Was it good for you?" she asked.

"It was ... unbelievable for me. Your touch and how you used your pelvic muscles took me to the brink. Then you used your nails to push me over. I knew a split-second before it happened that it was going to happen. I wondered if it was anything like what you experience."

Helen rolled her eyes in thought. "I suppose it's something like what you described."

"It was the most satisfying and intimate orgasm I've ever had," I said.

Helen smiled broadly. "I'm really pleased to hear you say that. It's gratifying to know I can give you the kind of pleasure you give me."

My erection had been fading and I slipped out of her. Rolling onto my back I held her under my arm as she snuggled against me. The faint blue trace of the vein in her upper arm caught my attention. By stroking it away from her body I made it vanish only to reappear when I lifted my finger and it refilled with her blood. "Was that really your favorite way?" I asked.

"Mmm... It is but it doesn't need to be our only way. Variety, after all..."

"The spice of sex. What do you like about it?" I asked.

"I like that I can feel everything. If I do something you like, I feel it -- you get bigger and harder. I absolutely love feeling your orgasms."

"Is that arousing?"

"Not arousing -- it's satisfying," she replied. "From our first time, you always make sure my needs are taken care of before you take your pleasure. I especially love that I can do something to please you. I love you so much."

"I love you, too." I continued stroking her arm and playing with her vein. "What do you want to do today?"

"Stay like this."

"We can't stay in bed all day."

"Who says?" she asked. "I know we can't," she added. "It's still early. We can stay like this for a while -- at least until the mellowness fades." I caressed her back and buttocks and probed her crevasse with my finger. I encountered her anus, still slick with lube and still dilated but closing up. I slipped it in up to the first knuckle. "What is it with men and assholes?" she asked.

"We've discussed this already."

"You changed my life," she said as she stroked my chest. "You changed me. I have a whole new life with you and I love it."

"I can see the change in you," I replied. "I didn't do it. I can't change you or anyone. What I can do is guide you to discover what's already in you."

"You once asked me if I loved myself. I said I didn't know and you said if I didn't love myself I couldn't bestow love on another. Eric -- now I understand what you were saying. I am sure I love myself. I love what you helped me find in me and I love the special bond we share."

"I know. I can feel it."

"I especially love you."

"I know," I replied. "I can feel that, too. I especially love you." I resumed caressing her buttocks and back. "Monday you'll go to work as my fiancee. I'm wondering what your co-workers will think when they see your ring."

"I can't wait," she replied. "We had a little bet as to which of the three of us would get engaged first. We all thought it would be Gina since she has a long-standing boyfriend ... who refuses to commit. No one expected mousy, nerdy Helen to be the one; not least of whom, me. I'll need to stop and get a box of donuts to celebrate. I'm sure they'll be happy for me, finding someone to love and to love me. They won't know the half of it, though. No one will, except for you and me."

The End

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