I suppose everyone must remember the first time they get an enema, when
they first realize that their asshole works in both directions and
experience the strange bitter-sweet sensations that the process produces.
I was just fourteen, at the stage where immortality was a given, where I
could jump out of bed in the morning without wondering if everything
would work and where I was still young enough to confuse my accession to
the Mecca of highschool with being an adult. The world was my oyster, I
could be anything I wanted, I had good buddies and the promise, if not
the actuality, of extending my sexual repertoire to a real live
girlfriend. Life was crammed full of new experiences as testosterone
started to drive me towards male independence.
It was mom who first noticed that I was kinda slowing down.
"Are you feeling okay, Chris?"
But I wasn't sure. I had this nagging headache, just on the borders of
sensibility, food tasted not so good and I was tending to wake up with a
dry and unpleasant mouth. I couldn't fool her, of course.
"You seem a bit subdued. Is there anything wrong at school?"
"No. Of course not."
"Come here - let me have a look at you."
She stared into my eyes, felt my forehead and made me stick my tongue
out for inspection.
"When did you last move your bowels?"
I had to think about that. Life was too busy to always accede to an urge
to take a dump - it was something that had to wait its turn on occasions.
"Gee, mom, I don't know. Couple of days maybe?"
"Well, that's the first thing to try - off you go, and don't come back
until you're empty."
But it wasn't quite that simple. I sat with my pants round my ankles,
gritting my teeth as I strained to expel the shit until I felt quite
faint from the effort. I returned to mom.
She opened the cupboard and reached for the Milk of Magnesia, then
administered two large spoonfuls. I pulled a face.
"That should fix you up."
But it didn't. She repeated the dose the following morning before I went
to school, then gave me yet another mouthful of the disgusting stuff
before I went to bed.
Next morning, mom surprised me. She made me try again as soon as I got
out of bed, then called the school to say that I was unwell and wouldn't
be in. Then she got all businesslike.
"Well, Chris, we've tried laxatives and they haven't worked. It's time
for something more drastic."
"You need an enema."
My first reaction was one of shocked disbelief.
"No. You have to have an enema."
I tried simple stubbornness.
"No chance - you'll have to drag me to the doctor's office and I won't
take it anyway."
She looked at me with frank puzzlement on her face.
"Doctor? Who said anything about a doctor? You're getting it right now."
I made for the door, but her hand clamped on the neck of my shirt.
"Don't let's have any of this childish nonsense, Chris."
She was too wary to let me out of her sight after that - I should have
just kept quiet and made a run for it when she wasn't looking, but now
it was too late. She marched me to the bathroom, shut and bolted the
"Just sit down while I get things prepared."
The thing was brand new - a bright red rubber bag and a long snaky coil
of tubing which terminated in a straight length of white plastic pipe.
Just looking at it made me feel queasy!
"Mom. I don't need this. Can't I just have some more magnesia?"
"You've had three doses and nothing has happened. So you have to have an
enema. It's as simple as that."
I watched in horror as she ran hot water into the sink and then dumped
the bar of soap in it and stirred it around. The whole room filled with
the smell of the stuff while I began to panic at the prospect of having
it squirted up my ass.
"Mom - this is just too embarrassing. You can't do this to me - I'm too
old for something like this."
Mom was busy now scooping up the liquid and pouring it into the bag.
"Chris, you have to have it, and that's all there is to it. It won't
take long, it won't hurt and you'll feel so much better afterwards."
She hung the thing up on the shower rail and turned to me.
"Let's have those pants off right now, young man."
"MOM! I'm not taking my pants off in front of you!"
She gave me one of her hard looks. The ones that made me feel about two
"Christopher, I'm your mother. I changed your diapers, I wiped your ass
and this is no time for you to go all girlish and bashful. Pants off.
It was just so humiliating, but there was no escape for me. Not when mom
was in this mood. I turned my back on her and I could feel my face
burning with shame as I removed my pants. This was surely the ultimate
humiliation for a highschool student like me.
"Good boy. Now kneel down on the floor for me."
I didn't know what was going on, but I had passed the point of
objections - mom was in charge now.
"Now bend forward and put your arms on the floor. Now rest your chest on
I had been wrong. This was the ultimate humiliation! I was going to find
it hard to look her in the eye after this!
"Now just push gently - like you were going to the toilet."
I felt my asshole push outwards and prayed that there was no gas in
there. There wasn't, of course - every scrap of it had been expelled
while I was trying to take a shit. I yelped as I felt something cold.
"Hush now - it's just some grease."
Of course - you would need that, wouldn't you? Then something round and
hard pushed against my asshole and slid inside of me.
I yelled in terror as the full realization of what was taking place
dawned on me. It was really happening - I was being given an enema!
"Hush now, honey. I'm going to run some nice warm water in."
I tensed my muscles and prepared myself for the onslaught. Nothing
happened. The tube was removed.
"Oh dear - it's gotten blocked. Hang in there while I clear it."
I turned my head and felt vaguely sick as she held the tube over the
toilet and pinched it, then squeezed hard until a brown pellet shot out
from the end.
"All clear. Let's try again."
I suppose there was plenty of grease around, because this time the tube
slipped into my asshole pretty fast. It went halfway in, then stopped.
"I'm going to turn the water on before it goes right in."
Aw hell - this was just totally degrading. I could feel the soapy water
expanding my asshole, some of it going in, some of it escaping and
running down the inside of my legs. Then, suddenly, the pipe was in
position and I felt my rectum expanding as the warm soapsuds flowed
inside of me.
On the other hand, it didn't feel bad. It sort of made me feel tingly
all over, like a mild electric shock. In fact, it was definitely not an
Then it happened. I got a hard on. That wasn't an unusual occurrence, it
had even happened in front of mom, but only with at least two layers of
fabric to conceal it long enough for me to get to the bathroom and do
what I had to do.
This one was different somehow. It wasn't going to go away - I could
feel my erection getting bigger and more sensitive as the warm suds
continued to ooze slowly into my bowels. Somehow the two processes were
related, although I could not imagine why that should be.
The liquid started to feel uncomfortable, like I really needed to take a
shit, but instead of killing my hard on, it only made it even harder. I
teetered on the verge of orgasm and total disgrace for several minutes
until I greeted the removal of the pipe with a sigh of heartfelt relief.
"Good boy, Chris. I'll leave you to get rid of it - but hold it as long
as you can to let it work."
It was a new dimension of strange sensations. It kinda hurt to hold
everything back, but at the same time it excited me. I clenched my ass
and walked slowly round the bathroom, jerking myself to a fantastic
climax before I eventually surrendered to the imperative and released
the liquid with another strange feeling of pleasure.
Wow! My entire digestive tract seemed to become detached and to shoot
out of my asshole in a torrent of hot, soapy water, gas and the
occasional temporary stoppage before a giant semi-solid sausage was
squeezed out. Mom tapped on the door.
"Yeah. That fixed it!"
"Good - take a shower and then come down."
I cleaned myself up, although I reckoned that I was still emitting a
faintly soapy odor, before going down to the kitchen. I never felt so
good - I must have lost several pounds in weight and that made me feel
almost like I was floating.
"Gee - yes mom. I feel great now that all of that stuff is gone."
She beamed with the satisfaction of a job well done.
"What say we go out to eat?"
Maybe she wanted to make it up to me, but whatever the reason she bought
me a shirt that I had coveted for ages. Then we ate - I was suddenly
totally ravenous and devoured everything set before me. I could taste it
Mom just let me laze around for the rest of the day. It was just as well
- the enema seemed to have dislodged quite a lot of stuff and I needed
the bathroom a couple of times that afternoon. I was just contemplating
tea when the door crashed open.
It was Julie, my (almost) girlfriend.
"Are you all right, Chris? I got worried when you weren't at school."
I just grunted. Bad mistake, because Julie started on mom.
"Is he all right, Mrs. Murphy?"
"Oh, he's fine now Julie. Just a bad case of constipation."
"Mom - you don't have to tell everybody, do you?"
"Oh, don't be so silly, Chris. Everybody gets constipated sometime."
Julie laughed out loud.
"That's true! Mom always gives me Ex-Lax when I get stuffed."
I cringed. When I thought of Julie, the brand of laxative that she
favored was hardly uppermost in my mind. Mom chuckled.
"Oh, Chris was beyond laxatives, I'm afraid."
I watched Julie's brow furrow, then she went over to mom and whispered
something in her ear. Mom nodded. Julie grinned.
"MOM! You told her! That's not fair!"
"I didn't tell her, honey. She guessed."
"I hate it when you two whisper about me! It's not fair."
Julie wasn't listening to me. She was whispering to mom again. Mom
"No - it's the first time. I had to go out and buy the stuff specially."
"Can I have a look at it? I've never seen one close up."
"Sure, honey. Chris - just amuse yourself for a while please."
I contemplated suicide after they marched up to the bathroom. Or maybe
matricide followed by suicide. It was bad enough Julie knowing what had
happened without her and mom discussing it out of earshot. They were
gone ages, then finally reappeared - Julie was flushed and bouncy at the
same time, her face betraying that she had a secret.
I said nothing until after tea, when she and I went to my room. I had
this awful suspicion that maybe mom had noticed my erection and had told
Julie about it - that was the sort of thing women did.
"What gives, Julie? What did mom say?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
"You took a long time talking about nothing. Come on - what did she say
"Nothing. She just showed me the enema stuff."
"There was more to it than that. I saw your face when you came back
"The rest is private. It's between her and me."
My brain was working overtime. Something had happened, something that
Julie was being very coy about. Then it dawned on me.
"I bet you tried it!"
She was lying. I could tell.
"Look me straight in the eyes and say that."
Her gaze stayed firmly rooted on the floor and I could see her scalp
going red. I didn't let up - I just stared at her. Finally she shuffled
"Well - what if I did? I always wondered what it was like."
"And now you know. Did you enjoy it then?"
She was getting angry now. Her beetroot red face turned towards me as
she stamped her foot in anger.
"Yes I did. It made me feel nice and clean and empty, not that it's any
of your business. I'm going home now."
I grabbed at her as she turned to leave.
"I'm sorry, Julie. Stay please."
She wriggled a bit and I held her tighter. Then she stopped struggling
and kinda went all limp in my arms. I hugged her and whispered in her
"It's okay. I'm sorry. Really I am."
Then we just sort of started to hug each other. Not just a buddy hug - a
real one. Somehow we both moved together and our lips met.
Wow! My first real kiss. One that seemed to go on forever. And when we
opened our mouths like we knew we should and our tongues touched....jeez!
Mom hid the bag somewhere I couldn't find it. I don't know why it was, but
I wanted to have a good look at it.
Well - that's not quite the truth. I knew exactly why I wanted to find
it. I wanted another go, on my own this time, so that I could really let
rip. In my fantasy world, I took dozens of enemas. At first they were
sort of generic enemas where I remembered the strange and exciting
feelings and jerked myself into oblivion. Then I suddenly got a picture
of Julie, filling the bag and smiling at me, holding up the nozzle and
buttering it with grease...and that became my favorite fantasy pretty
I wanted to talk to Julie about enemas, but the words just wouldn't come
- I was scared of frightening her off or making her think I was some
weird sort of pervert. Her statement that she had enjoyed her enema
referred to what it felt like afterwards - not whether she had had the
same sort of feelings as I had while it was going on.
Another change was taking place. Like most kids, I had been
indoctrinated in toilet hygiene, brainwashed about the necessity of
washing my hands after I used the toilet and generally discouraged from
having anything to do with my asshole. Of course, the same thing had
applied to my winkie as well - and that had proven to have some quite
incredible properties over the past couple of years. I found that
probing my asshole with one hand while I jerked off with the other
really added something extra to the process - especially if the hand was
Julie's. In my dreams!
There was one other possibility. Gunnar. He and I had become good
friends over the past few months, and I knew there was an enema bag in
his house - it lived in a closet in his bathroom, hanging on a hook
behind the door. I had found it when I was searching for a towel - well,
searching anyway - and at the time it had only made me feel a bit
embarrassed, like I was poking around in personal things.
Gunnar was a strange guy. A tall, blue-eyed blond, his Nordic appearance
and name had resulted in him being given Nazi salutes at school with
loud questions as to whether his dad had been in the SS during the war.
Maybe it was the Irish jokes they told about me (who would have a name
like Murphy?), but we became buddies, united against adolescent
xenophobia. In fact, Gunnar's father was American born and bred - it was
his mom, Siggi, who was Norwegian.
Gunnar was the only kid I knew who called his parents by their first
names - it sounded kinda strange to me at first, but I soon got used to
the fact. I discovered the other peculiarity the first time I slept over
at his house. We took a shower together, then discovered that there was
only one towel. To my total astonishment he just walked out of the
bathroom, naked as a jaybird, and shouted for Siggi to fetch some more.
I hastily wound the single towel round my waist as she marched in with
them, but Gunnar was totally unconcerned - he just grabbed one and
started to dry himself without any sign of embarrassment. When I asked
him later if he didn't find it a bit humiliating for his mother to see
him naked, Gunnar just laughed.
"Hell no - we don't have any hang-ups about nudity."
"What? Your parents too?"
"Of course. There's nothing to be ashamed about. We don't do it if there
are guests, of course."
I hadn't quite subscribed to his philosophy, but I did feel comfortable
as long as I had my shorts on. I liked Siggi - she laughed a lot and
teased both of us - but in a nice sort of way, like she was a big sister
instead of Gunnar's mother.
Still - that enema bag was calling to me. I waited until my next
sleepover before I started to play ill. I started with tea - Siggi made
the most amazing sandwiches, and it was quite a struggle to refuse and
tell her that I wasn't feeling too good.
"Oh, poor boy. Where do you feel bad?"
"It's my tummy. And I've got a bit of a headache."
She looked concerned.
"Maybe I should take you home? Your mother will know what to do."
"She's not home. She's gone out for a meal with my dad - they won't be
back until very late."
Siggi pulled a face.
"Well then, what can I do for you? Aspirin?"
I swallowed two aspirin and then she sent me to lie down for a while.
Eventually she and Gunnar turned up to see how I was feeling - I rubbed
my stomach and moaned.
"I've got this pain."
"Have you had it before?"
"Oh - yes."
"And what did your mother do for it?"
Suddenly I got shy. The brilliant idea suddenly seemed not quite so
clever. Just what on earth was I doing?
"I think I feel a little better..."
"Come along, Christopher. What does your mother do when you get like
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
She looked hard at me.
"You do not wish to tell me? Is it so bad that you cannot say?"
I took a deep breath.
"Last time she gave me an enema."
There was an embarrassed silence, broken by Gunnar.
"Oh - Siggi can give you an enema. I'll fetch the stuff, shall I?"
"Maybe Christopher does not want me to do that?"
My sexual desire fought a battle with my bashfulness. Finally it won.
"Yes - I think it would be best."
"Gunnar - you get Christopher ready. I will attend to the syringe."
Gunnar obviously had a lot of experience. He fetched a couple of towels
and spread them on the side of the bed, then turned to me.
"Okay - get undressed and lie down for your enema."
I stripped to my shorts, but balked at removing them - I had already
gotten an erection and I wasn't prepared to reveal that particular fact
to Gunnar, let alone to his mother. Siggi arrived with the enema bag at
the point where the situation had become a stand-off. She seemed to sum
it up immediately.
"I think we can manage just like this. Lie on the bed, Christopher."
I wasn't quite sure what was going on. Then I felt her grab the leg of
my shorts and haul it up.
"Ah yes - plenty of room."
Then I realized that my slightly over-size shorts permitted access to my
asshole. I felt the hard plastic of the greased nozzle impact dead
center, then she sort of moved it in tiny circles as she worked it into
my ass. It exceeded my previous enema and it consigned my auto-erotic
explorations to the realm of irrelevance. It produced an eerie sensation
as she continued to wiggle it all the way through that tube of sensitive
tissue until it was firmly lodged in position.
Then she began a slow infusion of warm liquid that transported me into
ecstasies of delight as it stimulated my entire body. Suddenly, I got
the central picture of my fantasy into my mind, and it was Julie who was
doing it - I could see her face and taste her lips like she was actually
in the room with me. The result was inevitable - I breathed a sigh of
relief that I was wearing my shorts as I came and the small warm patch
made its presence felt.
"All done now."
Siggi pulled the nozzle free and I leapt up and headed for the bathroom
as rapidly as possible - after I had emptied my bowels I scrubbed the
damp patch as dry as I could before I returned to the bedroom.
"How is that?"
"Oh - fine thanks. I feel much better now."
Siggi held the nozzle up and looked at Gunnar.
"What about you? It's a while since you were cleared out?"
"Oh, sure. Good idea."
Gunnar had no inhibitions about stripping off completely. I gulped when
I realized that he was erect as well - I would have died if my mother
had seen me like that! He curled up on the bed and I watched in awe as
Siggi just popped the nozzle into his asshole and then slowly inflated
him with warm suds - judging by his grunting and squirming he was
enjoying it as much as I had!
Siggi seemed delighted with both of us. We got a special treat - the
most amazing ice-cream confections that I had ever seen or tasted, full
of fruit and sweet syrup, topped with real cream. Jeez - even if I had
hated enemas it would have been worth taking one to have something as
delicious as that!
Gunnar was hyper afterwards. When we were alone he just could not keep
still. He pointed at the stain on my shorts.
"You like it too! I saw!"
I felt myself blush. Nobody had ever seen me come before, and I was
still at the stage where I was slightly ashamed of the whole thing. He
rummaged in his closet and threw me a fresh pair of shorts.
"You can wear these. Next time you should take your shorts off - then
there is less mess."
I could not actually bring myself to visit Gunnar for quite a while. The
procedure had been extremely pleasant, but a certain degree of shyness had
descended on me and I could not bring myself to show my hand by turning up
and asking for another enema.
In fact, the next surprise came at home. Julie had come round for the
evening, and had one of her whispering sessions with my mother. Mom
looked at me, then reached for her purse.
"Chris - would you go and get us some ice cream, please?"
I pulled a face. Mom didn't let me ride my bike in the dark, and it took
half an hour to get to the convenience store and back on foot. I opened
my mouth to object, but mom gave me one of her withering glances that
told me she would get pretty angry if I didn't do as she asked. I
sighed, took the money and started out on my journey.
That's when fate took a hand. Mr. Shadwell, our neighbor, was drawing
out of his drive when I passed, and gave me a ride to the convenience
store and then back home again. I hadn't really given a lot of thought
as to why I had been sent on my errand - until I looked through the
window and saw that there was nobody in sight. I walked quietly round
the side of the house - and then I saw the light on in the bathroom and
suddenly I reckoned that I knew what was going on.
The window was made of frosted glass, but at the top there was a series
of vertical glass strips that acted as a ventilator. I felt ashamed of
myself, but I just had to confirm my suspicions - I climbed silently on
top of a garbage can and peered through the grille.
Mt heart almost stopped. Julie was naked from the waist down, her butt
facing directly towards me, the red rubber tube terminating in a white
plastic ring tight against her asshole. Mom was sitting on a stool
beside her, the little metal clip in her hand, regulating the flow of
water. It was the most exciting thing that I had ever seen in my life -
there were plenty of magazines circulating amongst the boys in my year
that showed everything in pin-sharp detail and even one or two that
featured ginormous dicks plugged into moist tissue, but they could not
even begin to compare with this!
I slid down silently - to be discovered was unthinkable - and listened
to their voices through the window.
"Thanks, Mrs. Murphy - I really needed this. Mom gives me that awful Ex-
Lax stuff and it just kinda strikes without warning - it hurts too."
"Any time, honey."
"Has Chris had to have any more enemas?"
"No - not that I'm disappointed about that. It's pretty awkward with a
boy of his age - he really hates me even catching a glimpse of him when
"That's a shame. I like taking an enema - it makes me feel real good
I sneaked quietly back to the door and then threw it open.
There was a shriek from the bathroom - I grinned to myself. That would
teach them not to think they could get rid of me so easily. The bathroom
door opened and mom's face peered out.
"Mr. Shadwell gave me a ride there and back. Where do you want the ice
"Oh - put it in the freezer. Why don't you watch TV for a while - Julie
and I are pretty busy in here?"
The door closed again and I hastened to my room, unable to restrain my
urge any longer. Actually - mom almost caught me in the act, because
there was suddenly a tap on the door and she came straight in and then
sat on my bed.
"Chris - there's something we have to talk about."
Then she kinda blushed - I'd never really seen her embarrassed before.
"There are some things that are...personal. Lady things that boys don't
need to know about. So I don't want you asking Julie what we were
discussing while you were out."
Discussing? That was a new name for it! I heard the toilet flush and
Julie's footsteps heading towards the living room. Mom gave me a warning
look and we followed along.
Until we passed the bathroom, that is.
"I gotta go, mom."
Then, before she could say anything, I darted in and bolted the door
behind me. The whole room smelled soapy, and the enema bag was still
hanging there, its nozzle dripping into the shower tray, still
glistening with grease.
It was too much to resist. I dropped my pants and slid the warm,
slippery nozzle into my asshole. That was a wonderful jerk - not only
did I have the picture of Julie in my mind, but the pipe in my asshole
had just been inside her. It was disgusting, but infinitely stimulating!
When I came out, two sets of eyes were fixed on me. Mom was looking
pretty mad, and Julie was obviously close to tears. I flinched as mom
glared at me.
"You weren't supposed to see that, young man."
I uttered a silent prayer that my voice would not shoot up a couple of
"Aw, it's no big deal, is it? If Julie needs to take an enema now and
Julie's face cleared like the sky after a storm - even mom smiled at me.
I pushed my luck.
"Are we going to have that ice cream then?"
Julie relaxed pretty fast as we both devoured the stuff - I knew how
hungry an enema made you, and Julie ate as though she had been starved
for weeks. We retired to my room afterwards, and Julie just about ate me
too - she gave me the sort of kiss that made me glad I had already
gotten rid of the contents of my balls - then we sort of curled up
together on my bed.
"Chris? Did you mean it when you said it was no big deal?"
"Sure I meant it. I don't see what all the secrecy was about."
I had my fingers crossed, of course! Julie sort of cuddled close to me.
"I feel kinda sleepy now. Thank you for not teasing me."
"You know - about the enema."
"Aw, think nothing of it."
She snuggled closer to me. It felt good.
"Chris? Was it very embarrassing when your mom had to give you an enema?"
I wriggled slightly to make space between my groin and Julie - we
weren't at the stage where I wanted her to know that I had a hard on.
"Well - I suppose so. It was a real shock when she sprung it on me, and
I don't like her seeing me with nothing on."
"I wonder why? What are you hiding that's so special?"
Then she suddenly poked me - and got my erection dead center. I doubled
up, and she moved rapidly away from me with a concerned expression on
her face. Then it changed to one of mischievous amusement.
"Is that why?"
Now my face was burning.
"I bet it was. I bet it went like that when you had to take your pants
"No it didn't. I just don't like her looking at me."
She giggled again. I didn't understand what was happening - girls were
supposed to be the ones that controlled boys when they got fresh, not
stare at the bulge in the front of my pants!
"Well - maybe I should do your next enema? You wouldn't be embarrassed
then, would you?"
I groaned as she spoke of my deepest secret fantasy.
"Er...no. I wouldn't be embarrassed."
She reached for my zipper and held it between her fingers, her eyes
dancing with amusement.
"Maybe I should make sure?"
Fantasy began to firm up into stark reality as she slowly pulled my
zipper down to its fullest extent and then surveyed my extruded shorts.
I prayed as I had never prayed before.
Her fingers insinuated themselves through my fly - I somehow managed not
to scream as she bent my erection double in the act of hauling it
through the opening.
Neither of us said a word. Julie investigated the organ in detail,
bringing tears to my eyes as she poked and prodded. Then, inexpertly but
incredibly erotically, she began to stroke and rub it as I lay on my
back, transported to a plane of sexual ecstasy until she somehow managed
to produce a totally mind-blowing orgasm.
I cursed myself after she went home. Some residual fear had prevented me
from trying anything on with her - I suppose I was scared in case she
stopped what she was doing, but, despite the fact that I had just gotten
my first jerk from a girl, there was a lack of fulfillment in me.
Mom returned from giving Julie her ride home, and sat on the bed again.
"Chris, that was real nice of you."
My mind reeled. What had Julie said to her?
"The way you put her at her ease. You could have hurt her really badly
if you had laughed at her."
"Aw, mom, I wouldn't do anything to hurt Julie - she's my friend."
Mom sat awhile and I could see that she was working herself up to say
"Honey, maybe this would be a good time for us to talk."
I cringed. Not the birds and the bees stuff? Please - anything but that.
Mom held her arms out to me and I turned round and leaned against her as
she hugged me. It wasn't something that I would have liked my friends to
know about, but I still liked to cuddle up to mom now and again - it
made me feel warm and safe, like a little boy again.
"About the time I had to give you that enema, Chris. I'm sorry if it
hurt your dignity, but things like that just have to be done now and
I snuggled closer. Moms were nice, really.
"I know that. It's okay."
"I don't know why it is, but constipation seems to be an occupational
hazard of the early teens. It happened just the same when I was your
I squirmed around and looked at her face. She grinned at me and stroked
"Oh yes - I'd been regular for years, but suddenly I started to get
constipated just like you did - and Julie for that matter. So your mommy
went through exactly the same thing you did."
The revelation was astounding. I knew theoretically that mom had been a
kid once, but it wasn't something that I could easily imagine. I
searched for something to say.
"It's easier if you're a girl, though."
What I meant, of course, was that moms and daughters were a lot closer
than moms and sons. I felt her hug me tighter.
"I know, honey. It was real humiliating for you - but don't worry about
it. Most men get like that when they have an enema."
I went cold all over.
"You saw me?"
She kissed the top of my head.
"I'm afraid so, Chris. Try not to let it bother you - it's an
involuntary reaction and it doesn't mean anything. Even babies get
erections, you know."
"Huh? It didn't happen to me...did it?"
She laughed out loud and hugged me again.
"Of course it did - it was real cute when your little winkie stood to
attention. I used to have to wait until it went down before I could put
your diaper on."
I felt much better. It was much better to know that she knew, if you get
my meaning. She went on.
"You know, honey, if you ever need another enema, maybe you could manage
to do it yourself. It isn't very difficult, you know."
I thought about it for a while. The concept of self-administration
didn't appeal to me very much - the thing I had enjoyed about both
enemas that I had received was the fact that someone else had done them.
My recent experience with Julie had confirmed the fact that pleasant
things were much nicer if someone did them to you - particularly sexy
"Naw, mom. I don't think I would like to do it myself."
I wriggled into a more comfortable position - I hadn't felt this close
to mom since I was a little kid, and it was a good feeling. Then my
asshole started to send messages to my brain - it sort of tickled, like
it wanted to be messed around with.
"I reckon I need one."
She pushed me away and turned me round.
"Say that again."
"I think I need an enema. And the stuff is still out, isn't it?"
She looked at me for a moment and then grinned.
"Okay, if that's what you need, you shall have it. Come along - let's
get it done."
A lot of things had happened to me in the previous weeks. My first
enema, Gunnar and his lack of inhibitions and finally Julie's intimate
attentions - a sort of crash course which had desensitized me about my
body and its behavior.
Mom looked momentarily shocked when I stripped off in the bathroom
without being asked. I didn't have an erection - that portion of me had
been desensitized with a vengeance. She looked me up and down, then gave
me a hug.
"Welcome back, Chris."
It took me a moment to understand what she meant, then I realized just
how much I had been pushing her out of my life as I journeyed into
She stepped back and wiped her eyes.
"Well - shall we get this done?"
Maybe it was because I was mentally all keyed up, but the insertion of
the enema nozzle took me completely by surprise. I could feel the
muscles on the inside of my thighs contracting, like an iron bar had
been thrust down the center of them. My jaws locked tight shut, my head
twisted upwards and I barely managed to suppress a shout of sheer
elation as the sensation grew in intensity.
Mom didn't seem to realize what I was feeling. She just went right ahead
and administered a slow, incomparably sensuous enema that left me on the
very edge of yet another orgasm - something I corrected as soon as she
was out of the room.
Life was getting real interesting.....
I slept well that night and woke happy but sore in the winkie department
the following morning. The problem got a lot worse during the gym period
- the coach was one of those guys who didn't let you keep your underwear
on under your shorts, and I hadn't felt the need for a jockstrap - until
then. Every activity seemed to increase the friction on the end of my
dick until it was just one throbbing mass of pain.
I had a look at it in the toilet - it was a dark, inflamed red and
seemed to be destined to drop off before I was much older. I splashed
some cold water on it, and limped around for the rest of the day.
I was sleeping at Gunnar's house that night, and I almost cried off, but
maybe it would take my mind off the discomfort if I had someone to talk
Siggi spotted my discomfort as soon as I walked through the door.
"What is wrong with you, Christopher. You are limping."
I had confided my problem to Gunnar. He grinned from ear to ear.
"Chris has got a sore penis."
"Let me see."
Siggi did not give me the chance to object - before I could say anything
she had my pants down, right there in the kitchen, and was inspecting
"My god! To the bathroom - this instant."
She made me strip off and stand in the tub. Then she started to fill the
enema bag with what looked to me like very hot water.
"I don't need an enema, Siggi. I had one yesterday."
"This is not for an enema. Just hold still for me."
She hung the bag from the curtain rail, got hold of my dick, and started
to play a jet of almost boiling water over its inflamed end. I screamed.
"Hush now, Christopher. We must clean off all of this stuff."
She directed the jet straight on to the end, and I could feel the water
pushing under the inflamed skin. It was agony as she slowly eased it
back, revealing all sorts of stinking gunge. Once the hot water hit it,
the relief was almost instantaneous - Siggi used the jet to clean off
all of the rubbish, then refilled the bag with cooler liquid.
With the departure of pain, the jet of cool water was tickly - she
worked it round the sensitive parts - and, of course, I reacted. It
didn't seem to worry her at all that she was just casually handling an
erect penis - she kept on until she had rinsed everything thoroughly.
Then she handed me some tissues.
"Dry yourself - gently now."
I had no intention of being anything else but gentle! Siggi propelled me
gently into Gunnar's room and made me lie on my back while she looked
closely at the end of my knob.
"Ah - there is a small tear - just here. I think maybe you have been
playing with yourself too vigorously."
I propped myself up and looked - sure enough, that funny little piece of
skin had a red line across it. She produced a tube of ointment.
"This will soothe everything. Be still, now."
I screamed as the stuff stung like fury, then relaxed as a cool numbness
spread over the area.
"What should I do, Siggi? Go to the hospital?"
"No - is not necessary. They could do no more than I have done. It heals
fast there - you will be much better soon."
Maybe it healed fast, but not that fast. A dull ache emanated from my
knob and, despite the cream, the touch of my shorts was still
irritating. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, until Gunnar finally
tired of my moaning and fetched Siggi.
She had another look at the damage.
"It is just sore. A couple of painkillers will help you to sleep. Turn
on your side."
It took me a moment or two to realize where the two white cylinders were
going. Siggi dipped the first one in some grease, then bent over me. I
felt the cold object push against my asshole. Then it slid smoothly
inside - followed by Siggi's finger which pushed it deep into my rectum.
I was too shocked to say or do anything. I just lay, paralyzed, while a
second one followed the first. Siggi slapped me on the butt.
"That will take away the pain and help you sleep."
Then she was gone, leaving me floundering like a landed fish. I pulled
my shorts up and turned to Gunnar, who was now creased with laughter.
"What...what was that?"
"Just a couple of suppositories."
"Oh - Siggi gets them sent over from Norway. She says that painkillers
are really bad for your stomach and it's much better to take them that
I began to relax as the pain faded. Gunnar raised himself on one elbow
and looked across at me.
"Chris. What were you doing to it?"
I was in that sort of dreamy state where you don't really have full
contact between brain and mouth.
"It wasn't me. Julie did it."
"JULIE? You lucky bastard! I didn't think she would do anything like
"It was the first time. She wasn't very gentle."
"You're way ahead of me. I can't even get a girl to go out with me, let
alone jerk me off."
By morning, the pain had just about gone and the inflammation was
subsiding. I slowly worked my way back to consciousness and became aware
of the fact that Gunnar's bed was empty. Still half asleep, I staggered
into the bathroom. And froze.
Gunnar was lying flat on his back, the enema tube disappearing between
his legs, jerking himself off, his eyes firmly shut, his mouth sagging
open as he pumped like crazy.
He opened his eyes and saw me at the same time as I turned tail and
fled. I felt awful - I could imagine what I would feel like if someone
walked in on me when I was jerking, and he must want to die of shame now
that someone knew his secret. I darted from the bedroom and used the
other bathroom, and when I returned, Gunnar was sitting on his bed, his
eyes downcast, looking completely miserable. He sort of spoke to the
floor without looking at me.
"Don't tell. Please don't tell."
"Of course I won't."
"If anyone found out, I would kill myself."
"I said I won't tell."
I wasn't surprised that Gunnar's open relationship with Siggi didn't
extend to her knowing about something like that! He looked so miserable
that I just had to share my secret with him.
"I've done the same thing."
Gunnar first looked incredulous, then relieved.
"Yeah. It's good isn't it?"
Unfortunately I didn't have a private bathroom, and despite the fact
that the desire to experience the strange feelings of an enema grew day
by day, there simply was no time that I could guarantee free from
parental disturbance. I had managed to find where mom hid the bag, but
that did not help - what I needed was privacy.
Finally it came. Mom and dad were going out for the evening and would
not be back until the small hours. As the day approached, the tension
became almost unbearable - my asshole tingled with the anticipation of
I waited until they had left and allowed half an hour to make sure that
they would not return for something they had forgotten. Then I retrieved
the enema bag from its hiding place and filled it to the brim with warm
soapy water. Finally I stripped in my bedroom, then padded, naked, to
I did like Gunnar had done and lay on my back, my feet propped against
the bathtub, then probed for my asshole with the greased nozzle. I
almost passed out from the sensation as it slid into place. This was
going to be a real experience.
Oh NO! It was Julie! What the hell was she doing here? And, of course, I
had forgotten to bolt the doors.
"CHRIS? Where are you?"
She was looking in my room, where my discarded clothing was just lying
where I had dropped it. Now she was outside the bathroom door.
"Are you in there?"
"Yes - hang on a minute."
I pulled the shower curtain to conceal the hanging enema bag and wrapped
a towel firmly round my waist. Then I opened the door a crack and peeked
"I was just going to take a shower. What are you doing here?"
"Your parents are out, aren't they? Would you like me to scrub your
When you have bare feet, there is no way you can stop a door from being
opened. Julie pushed past me and threw back the shower curtain, then
"Ooh! You weren't taking a shower at all!"
"I was going to. Afterwards."
"You were taking an enema! Are you constipated?"
"Of course I am."
But I felt myself blush, and I saw that Julie had not bought the story.
"I bet you just wanted to do it because it feels nice."
That rocked me. I wasn't quite sure what she meant. Had mom mentioned
the effect that an enema had on me? That wasn't very likely. Maybe she
was talking about the way it felt afterwards?
"How do you mean - feels nice?"
She was getting really giggly now.
"You know - when the water goes in and it makes you feel all gooey and
cuddly and tingly..."
"Oh. That sort of nice. Well - I suppose that's part of it."
"Let me do it!"
I felt myself go weak at the knees. The prospect was infinitely
enticing. I wasn't going to repeat my error, though.
"Okay. But you have to go first."
Frankly, I didn't expect Julie would let me do it to her, but she sort
of shivered all over and then nodded.
Then she just took her clothes off. Almost like I wasn't even there. I
could not take my eyes off her - her little upturned breasts, her slim
waist, the swelling of her hips and a cute little bush of dark, curly
hair. She reached for my towel and slowly unwound it from my waist, then
giggled again at the sight of my erection. I had to do something before
"Okay, Julie - down you go."
Oh Jesus! What a wonderful sight! I somehow managed to locate her
asshole and plug the nozzle into it while she squealed and squirmed in
obvious enjoyment. I short changed her on the enema - I was too keen to
get on with mine!
Oh boy! What an experience. Julie was chuckling happily to herself as
she slowly screwed the nozzle into my asshole. Then her general lack of
subtlety took hold and she just about blew my ass off with a solid jet
of water! Somehow I got her to slow it down and then lost myself in the
enjoyment of the process until I suddenly found myself gasping and
spurting on to the floor.
And afterwards, we messed around, getting to know each other's bodies -
neither of us seriously considered screwing because there was just so
much delicious ground to cover before we got anywhere near that point!
Julie still had a ten p.m. curfew, so I walked her home and braved the
gimlet eyes of her mother by stealing a few minutes on their porch
before the door finally closed on me. I ran all the way home, jumping
and punching the air in delight and triumph.
To cap it all, mom had a word with me that weekend.
"I've been talking to Gunnar's mother."
My heart sank.
"She's got a problem."
It reached my boots.
"The whole family always goes to Norway at Christmas to stay with her
Now I was curious.
"They have invited you to go along. Dad and I will pay your fare as a
Christmas present if you like....."
Gunnar was excited when he found out that my parents had said I could go.
"Hey - that's great. I don't know if they'll let you go to the festival
"Yule, of course."
"Huh? Like logs and things?"
He became serious.
"It's one of the most ancient festivals in the world. It started when
the Gods were still on earth to welcome the new year."
"Gods? What the heck are you talking about?"
"The Old Gods - the Norse gods. Odin and Thor and ones like that."
"Never heard of them."
"Yes you have - they're so old that the days of the week are called
after them. Tuesday is called after Tiw, the god of war, Wednesday after
Woden or Odin, king of the Gods, Thursday after Thor, the god of thunder
and Friday after Freya."
"What was he god of?"
Gunnar actually blushed.
"It's a she. Freya is the god of fertility - sex in other words."
"They had a god for that?"
"Hey - not every place is full of Southern Baptists, you know."
"So what goes on in this festival?"
Gunnar looked embarrassed.
"I don't know. Kids aren't allowed - you have to be grown up to go."
"You aren't grown up."
"Well - I am as far as they are concerned. Once you're old enough to
make babies, you're an adult. So this year I get to go."
Julie was envious and furious when I told her, but had to grudgingly
admit that it was too good a chance to pass up. I endured the agonies of
shopping for Christmas gifts, I exulted in my very own passport and I
listened patiently to the lectures on good behavior. The calendar did
its very best not to move forward, but even it could not prevent the
great day from arriving.
We flew to London on one of those cheap flights - it was crowded and
uncomfortable, one of those times when it's good to be a kid because you
can fit into a smaller space.
We had to go to another airport to get the plane to Norway, so at least
I got to send some postcards from England and I saw a bit of the
country. Then we got on to a pretty old- fashioned airplane - one with
propellers and kinda staggered across the sky to Norway.
It wasn't nearly as cold as I had thought and Siggi patiently explained
that you only got 24 hour nights in the far north of the country. The
final part of our journey was in a strange thing called a post bus - it
delivered mail and carried passengers as well - and we ended up, at long
last, in a small village high up in the mountains where everything was
covered in snow and the air was so dry that it took your breath away.
Siggi's parents lived in a wooden house with a sharply pointed roof, and
the contrast between the outside at ten below and the wonderful warmth
inside was incredible. The whole place was heated by a huge stove made
out of porcelain, of all things, that burned wood. When I expressed my
surprise at the fuel, Siggi burst out laughing.
"What else would you burn in Norway? It is covered in trees!"
Her parents were real nice people - I got kissed by both of them, to my
extreme chagrin - but I calmed down when I realized that everybody was
kissing everybody else - still, I found it strange for my cheek to be
brushed by wiry whiskers! We shed our outer clothing and more or less
collapsed while grandma brought us bowls of a rich, meaty stew that
revived me a bit. And their coffee! It was thick, black and incredibly
bitter - it would probably be a prescription drug back home!
Gunnar and I were pretty beat - we had been travelling for 24 hours with
little sleep on the way. Siggi ushered us up into the attic and I looked
around in surprise - there were eight neat beds in a large room. She
laughed at my expression.
"My parents run this as a guesthouse in the summer - it means that there
is plenty of room when they need it."
I vaguely remember the feel of crisp, clean sheets, then no more until I
woke a lot later, revived, ravenous and with a bladder close to
bursting. Gunnar and I showered in the bathroom in the attic and then
descended to an enormous meal. I looked askance at the amount of fat in
it, but grandma just chuckled.
"It is very cold here - you need the energy to burn."
It tasted good, though! Then Gunnar took me skiing. That was another
surprise - I had always assumed that you went to the top of a mountain,
strapped on a pair of skis and hurtled downwards, but the Norwegians ski
on the flat - it was more like roller skating but it sure got you there
fast. We set out for another house, a couple of miles away, and it was
only when we arrived and Gunnar blushingly introduced me to Martha - the
kiss she gave me was nothing like the lingering one she exchanged with
him! I felt a bit sorry for him - it must have been frustrating to see
your girlfriend only once a year.
Later on, when we were back home, the other guests arrived. Gunnar's
uncle and aunt - and his cousin Astrid. She simply left me speechless -
a tall, slim, blue-eyed blonde of fourteen, wearing a chunky sweater and
ski pants. I felt about four years old as I stumbled for words while she
asked me, in fluent English, about the USA. Julie had given me a lecture
before I left and made me promise not even to look at another girl while
I was away - but she was on the other side of the world, and Astrid was
sitting in the same room as me.
After supper I discovered the Scandinavian practice of story-telling.
The Danes had their sagas, but the Norwegians also had a long tradition
of tales of good and evil, gods and mischief-makers. Gunnar persuaded
grandpa to tell us about the war - it had never really dawned on me that
the Germans had occupied the country and it made me shiver to think of
jack-booted troops tramping around this very village. Grandpa produced a
couple of photographs of himself, no much older that me at the time,
carrying an enormous rifle and grinning widely.
"That was after we wrecked the train."
I slowly began to realize that the man had been a resistance fighter,
that he had killed the enemy and gotten medals for it - he even had a
picture of himself being decorated by the King. He told us about the
arch traitor, Vidkun Quisling, and how the country had restored the
death penalty after the war especially for him and his collaborators.
I listened, enthralled, long into the night until Siggi finally called
time. I stumbled up to the attic, half asleep and sat down on my bed to
get undressed, my mind still on the stories of heroism and evil.
I had not given any thought to where Astrid would be sleeping. My
fatigue abruptly departed when she came into the room - I hastily
rezippered my trousers and started to blush.
She just smiled, walked over to a bed which I suddenly realized was
freshly made up and took her clothes off. All of them. Every stitch. She
waved her arms and took a sniff at her armpits, pulled a face and made
for the bathroom, followed by Gunnar in a similar state of nudity.
That left me with a major problem as their two bare butts disappeared
into the bathroom. Although my shyness had taken a few serious dents
recently, it still struck me as vaguely wrong that males and females
should use the same bathroom, let alone simultaneously! It went against
so many of the taboos that I had learned through childhood that it was
very difficult to do what I did - I stripped off and followed them.
It taught me something. Nudity and sexual stimulation are not
synonymous. Neither Astrid nor Gunnar reacted to the situation - it was
just like sharing with two boys as we showered and dried ourselves. It
was different later as I pictured Astrid's naked body and quietly
massaged my erection to a surreptitious orgasm - she wasn't just
showering in that fantasy!
Christmas came and went with little ceremony and it seemed that the
Norwegians had a pretty laid-back attitude to the festive season. Then
Siggi got me on my own for a chat.
"Christopher, there is a celebration coming up for Yuletide."
"Gunnar mentioned it."
Siggi looked rather abashed.
"Would you like to attend? If not, there are celebrations in the village
you could go to."
I was curious, of course.
"What does it involve?"
For the first time she seemed to be finding it awkward to speak to me.
"Well, we hold it at the stones of power, beside the guardian tree.
It...involves the old gods."
I was shocked.
"NO! The old gods are not like the Christian God. They are
representations of...great concepts. We do not worship them as persons.
They have no power, but they represent powerful ideas."
"I don't understand."
She wrinkled her brow.
"The sex god?"
"Well...the god of fertility. The concept that we have to care for the
world to keep it fertile, that we care for ourselves and our children,
because they are what makes us immortal. Not an orgy, just good
"So what exactly happens?"
"We gather together, we burn logs to encourage the sun to return and
make the crops grow, we sing and we dance to bind us together. No devil
worship, I promise you."
I was intrigued.
"Okay. I'd like to come along."
I didn't know that it involved not eating for twenty four hours though!
Gunnar, Astrid and I walked around for that whole time, our stomachs
grumbling, drinking pure spring water to flush out our systems.
Actually, it got a bit better halfway through - the hunger pangs
vanished and I felt rather elated.
As evening came, Siggi beckoned to the three of us and led the way to
"Now for the second stage of purification."
I looked into the bathroom and saw the mother of all enema equipment - a
huge enamel container of water, fitted with a tap and what looked like a
length of garden hose, except that the end was rounded with a ring of
perforations to let the water through.
"Who will be first?"
Astrid volunteered. We watched through the open door of the bathroom as
Siggi greased the thick tube and then kind of scooped it into position.
I gulped as I saw Astrid half rise - I could imagine what it felt like.
Then she squirmed and yelped as Siggi opened the tap and used the tube
as a sort of stirrer to dislodge everything.
I let Gunnar go next. The whole process looked a bit extreme and I
momentarily thought of backing out, but male pride kept me there - if
Astrid could take it, then so could I.
It was not nearly as bad as it looked. It was a bit of a shock as the
greased rubber slid into my asshole and the procedure was certainly not
erotic - it was definitely business rather than pleasure as I felt the
blunt end of the tube pushing and probing inside me, scouring each
minuscule crevice of my intestines for the smallest trace of solid.
I squatted gratefully and allowed the water to cascade into the bowl,
carrying several pounds of solid with it. I was still producing small
spurts of water when Astrid was ushered back into the room and I
realized, with a sinking feeling, that the ritual involved a second
It was the weirdest setup. I was sitting on the throne while Astrid
crouched on the floor like she was making obeisance. It was the most
erotic thing I had ever seen. Her head on one side, resting on her
folded arms, her long hair caressing her neck and splayed out on the
floor. The smooth curve of her naked back rising to the vee-shape of her
butt, her eyes watching me and her mouth open in a silent gasp as the
tube entered her asshole for the second time. I could see the muscles of
her butt tensing and relaxing as Siggi fed in the tube - more than I had
imagined could be accommodated by a rectum.
I was stark naked, and I had no means of concealment of the erection
that the sight produced. To clasp my hands and try to hide it would have
merely looked ridiculous. I simply rose and left the room, wishing that
I could relieve the unbearable tension but unable to do so in company.
When it came to my second enema, I suddenly appreciated why Astrid had
wriggled and gasped. The insertion seemed to turn on every synapse in my
nervous system - I could not keep silent but had to emit a series of
small "Oh" noises as the tormenting length of rubber tube turned me on
like nothing had ever done before.
And when it kept on going in, deeper and deeper, hitting things that
reacted like a pinball table, producing sudden jumps and bumps and
ringing bells in my head, I gave up any attempt at restraint. It was
just too much - I grunted and gasped and then yelled as my penis erupted
in a staggering orgasm.
Then Siggi beckoned to us.
"The sauna is waiting."
I'd never had a sauna before. I panicked at first as a thick blanket of
steam rose from the glowing rocks and made it almost impossible to
breathe. I slowly managed to gulp in small amounts of air, then my lungs
relaxed and I could breathe again. The heat was ferocious - I could feel
the sweat pouring from me, but it wasn't like a humid summer's day - it
was far too hot for that. I got the whole works - a beating with birch
twigs that made the blood rush to my skin, then the door opened and I
followed the others in rushing outside and diving into a snowdrift.
It didn't feel cold at all - it seemed to make me feel warmer, a
wonderful glow that spread through my body. Siggi, as naked as the rest
of us, hustled us inside and handed out rough towels, then told us to
rub each other down - I paired up with Astrid, of course. Another unique
Finally, we all donned cotton shifts and grandpa led the way to an
enormous bonfire burning between two large, black stones.
I didn't understand the language that they sang in. It sounded ancient
like the strange, haunting notes of the song. We joined hands and formed
a circle, then moved back and forth around the fire.
That's when the gods came. I can rationalize it by talking about lack of
blood sugar and water intoxication, but it was the most real experience
of my life. It can't have been hallucination, because it was only
afterwards when I described what I had seen that grandpa told me their
names. Balder and Hermold, Tyr and Sif, and towering over all the huge
figure of Thor, his hammer held high, emitting waves of power that
bowled me over. Neither Gunnar nor Astrid had seen a thing, and I found
myself being gently touched by the others who were there, like they were
drawing something out of me.
Afterwards we feasted and talked of the gods and I realized why Siggi
had not been able to express what she knew - it was something you had to
experience, something indescribably magnificent and powerful, the raw
forces of nature expressed in human form.
It was when I was going up to bed that I realized Gunnar was missing.
"He has gone with Margaret. Now there are just we two."
It was the ultimate climax to the ultimate experience. Neither of us
discussed the matter - we just climbed into bed together and made
frantic, desperate love together. Astrid was no novice - she led me into
her moist orifice as she straddled me and worked us both to a shattering
orgasm - the first of several.
Siggi woke us the following morning, completely unconcerned that we were
both in the same bed, with one of her enormous breakfasts. Not large
enough to prevent another session of lovemaking afterwards, though....
I spent the remainder of the vacation happily cohabiting with Astrid
while Gunnar was in the same relationship with Martha. To my amazement,
none of the parents seemed to have the slightest objection and both
girls were taking contraceptive pills. It wasn't even a problem that I
certainly wasn't Astrid's first lover - if anything it helped a lot
because she taught me how to do it properly.
Leaving for home was really harrowing. I reckoned that I had fallen for
Astrid a lot more than she was in love with me, but that didn't make it
any easier to say goodbye and to know that I probably would never see
Mom and dad fussed over me when I got home - they reckoned that I had
changed and grown up a lot, but they just ascribed it to foreign travel.
I certainly wasn't going to tell them that I had met a real live God and
then spent the rest of the vacation in happy fornication with the most
beautiful girl in the world!
I settled back into a routine - school during the week and the
possibility of a frantic surreptitious jerk from Julie at weekends. In
terms of my sexual athletics with Astrid it was pretty weak stuff, but
it was all that was on offer - and a lot more than most boys of my age
Astrid and I had agreed to write to each other but not to phone - we
would each be in trouble if our parents' phone bills started to show
transatlantic calls. I had just about decided that she wasn't going to
reply to my first letter when hers arrived. It was a pretty steamy piece
of literature, reminding me of some of the things we had done while we
Julie found it, of course. She went totally apeshit, screamed at me,
slapped me hard and stormed out of the house. There was no prospect of a
reconciliation - she spread the story of my amorous adventures right
round the school as a justification for dumping me.
It had a dramatic effect - it marked me out as dangerous. I had not only
done 'it', I had done it with a foreign girl in a strange country. Girls
of my own age started to avoid me, almost as though I had a social
disease or they could get pregnant just by being several feet from me -
fully clothed. There was absolutely no likelihood of a date from a
fourteen year old girl and the system of age based apartheid that
operates in every school meant that a girl never ever dated a boy who
was younger than her - that left me in total sexual limbo until I
reached my sophomore year. Even then, it was going to be a major problem
unless the story died in the meantime.
Finally, total disaster struck. Gunnar's dad was posted to his company's
office in Japan for a whole year - and took Siggi and Gunnar with him.
They would be coming back, but a year is an infinite length of time when
you are fourteen.
That left me totally friendless. The girls were scared of me, the boys
were jealous and I settled down into a morose and solitary existence. My
only friend was Astrid - five thousand miles away - but at least I could
pour out my misery in a long letter.
I came down one Saturday morning to find my mother reading a letter. She
looked up at me.
"Who's this Astrid girl?"
I died inside. Somebody had obviously squealed to mom.
"Oh - she's Gunnar's cousin. I met her in Norway."
Mom wrinkled her brows.
"What's she like?"
"Er...she's the same age as me, she's quite pretty and she's a great
Mom laughed out loud.
"I've just got a letter from her mother. Apparently she was going to
stay with Gunnar's family and spend some time at your school to improve
her English. Now that they're in Japan, she has asked if she could pay
us to house Astrid for a month or two. I suppose I really meant to ask
if she's the sort of girl who wouldn't make any trouble."
I wondered momentarily if I was dreaming. It was the sort of thing of
which great fantasies were made. Mom was still looking at me and waiting
for an answer.
"Astrid wouldn't be any trouble - she's a real nice girl. You'd like her
Mom put the letter down on the table.
"Well - at the very least she'd stop me being outnumbered by men. And we
do sort of owe them for your vacation - I'll write and say that she can
"Mom - you could call them. It would be quicker."
She grinned at me.
"And you could talk to her as well, I suppose. Maybe you're a bit keen
I grinned - but inwardly. Mom didn't need to know just how keen I was!
She started to work times out.
"My god - it's evening there already!"
I rushed to the phone and dialed the number - and got some pizza place
in Philadelphia. Mom pushed me back.
"You have to use the international prefix, stupid. Let me do it."
Then she paused.
"I suppose they understand English?"
"Let me talk - they understand me!"
Sven, Astrid's father, answered the phone and I handed him over to mom,
but not before I told him to call Astrid. Mom was real nice to him, but
I hopped from one foot to the other with impatience until finally she
handed the phone over to me and I heard Astrid's voice for the first
time in months. Eventually mom had to remove the phone by force - I
simply could not stop talking. She gave me a knowing smile.
"I was right - you are keen on her!"
That left me with two whole weeks to wait. I kept Astrid's visit a
secret at school - mom had seen the principal and gotten permission for
Astrid to attend, but I didn't want the other kids to know about it
until she arrived. The day before she was due, I felt sick from tension
and expectation. I paced the floor and kept on looking at my watch until
the situation completely overpowered me and I was really sick, vomiting
into the toilet and retching miserably.
Mom sent me to bed. I lay there for a while until she suddenly came in
to my room, carrying the enema bag.
"This just has to stop. When I was a little girl and I got over-
excited, my mother always used to give me a bicarbonate of soda enema -
it worked for me, so let's see if it will do the same for you. Lie on
your side and push your shorts down, please."
She tricked me, of course. As soon as I raised myself up to lower my
shorts, she grabbed them and pulled them right off.
"This will take quite a while, Chris. Get yourself comfortable."
I moved one of my pillows so that I could hug it and squirmed myself
into a resting position. I felt a coldness o my asshole as mom spread
some grease on it, then the electric thrill as the nozzle was slowly
eased in. I got a bit of a shock - until then, every enema had consisted
of warm water, but this time the liquid was barely tepid. It felt
soothing, like it was drawing out all of the tension from my body and
mom was sure right about it taking a long time - I actually fell asleep!
Mom eventually shook me gently awake - I was still half asleep as she
walked me to the bathroom and held on to me as the liquid drained out.
She even wiped my ass, just like I was a baby, before she finally tucked
me up in bed and let me fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I slept late the following morning - I think mom just let me alone in
case I got all worked up again - but finally we drove to the airport and
waited for the great moment.
I recognized Astrid straightaway, of course, but she was rumpled and
tired from her journey and didn't say much as mom drove us home.
"Would you like to take a bath?"
Astrid came to life a little.
"Oh, yes please. I feel so dirty."
Mom and I sat in the kitchen while Astrid soaked in the bath. Mom seemed
"What a pleasant young girl! Polite, too. She seems a little shy,
Then the door opened to reveal a stark naked girl, smiling as she rubbed
her hair dry on a towel.
"Thank you so much, Clare. I feel better now."
I somehow managed not to burst into laughter at mom's reaction. The
"shy" girl was not only unconcerned with being totally nude, but was
equally comfortable with using mom's first name. I could see that mom
really didn't know what to do and it dawned on me for the first time
that mom was not some all-knowing, all-powerful creature but just an
ordinary person who could be totally confused by something as unexpected
as this. Her mental processes were transparent - what on earth do you do
with a guest who innocently appears in her birthday suit?
I took pity on her, ran to my room and got an absolutely huge football
shirt that had been a Christmas gift from a distant aunt who seemed to
reckon that I was about eighteen, in size if not in fact - it was still
brand new. I brought it back and handed it to Astrid. Her face lit up.
"A gift? For me? Oh - it is so beautiful!"
I got a huge smacking kiss, then she pulled it over her head. I could
see mom's sigh of relief as naked skin disappeared under a shirt that
reached almost to Astrid's knees. It was still pretty awkward - mom and
I were both aware that she had no panties on under the shirt - but it
preserved decency long enough for mom to produce the hair dryer and
start in on Astrid.
She wasn't very hungry, and fatigue caught up with her, so mom tucked
her into bed and returned to grill me.
"Did Astrid act like that when you were over there?"
"Mom, everybody acted like that, especially when we took a sauna."
Her eyes widened.
"Even the adults?"
"Everybody. They don't have our hang-ups about nudity."
Mom shook her head in disbelief.
"I don't know what your father will say. Maybe I should have a word with
"You can if you like, but she won't understand what the fuss is about."
"Well, I'm certainly not walking around in the buff!"
I shuddered. That would certainly be embarrassing. Mom looked at me in
"Chris - I want to make it very clear that I don't want to have to call
her mother and say that Astrid is pregnant."
"Mom, you don't have to worry about that. She takes pills."
Mom sat down heavily.
"Just what exactly went on between you and Astrid when you were over
I didn't answer. She looked alarmed.
"Oh my god! You two were sleeping together?"
I nodded. Somehow it seemed less natural at that precise moment. Mom
looked as though she was going to burst into tears.
"You're not my little boy any more, are you, Chris? But you're only
fourteen - you're still just a child. You aren't ready for that."
Then her voice hardened.
"I want your word of honor that it won't happen here. Not under my roof."
I shook my head.
"I can't promise, mom. I can't promise something when I don't mean it."
She sat with her head in her hands for a while.
"Did her parents know what was going on?"
"They had no right to permit it."
"They thought that they did."
"You should have said no."
She thought for a while and I waited in suspense - she could do anything
- maybe even send Astrid back home! Finally she sighed.
"All right. What's done is done. I just don't want to know what you two
get up to while she's here. Is that clear?"
I breathed a sigh of relief. In fact, it was a lot better than I could
have hoped for.
"Okay mom. We'll be careful."
It was lucky that it was a weekend, because it gave time for Astrid to
get over her jet lag. You should have seen dad's face when she came down
to lunch the following day, still wearing my football shirt. The dirty
old man just couldn't take his eyes off her! He surprised me later when
we were alone - he gave me a dig in the ribs and winked at me.
"Attaboy, Chris! What a stunner!"
Then he looked pensive.
"You know - I don't think she had any pants on under that shirt."
He chuckled and ruffled my hair.
"I won't ask how you knew that! Boy - if only I were twenty years
"You still wouldn't have a chance. She's my girl."
He jabbed me playfully in the groin.
"Well - don't wear it out, will you? It has to last all of your life."
That's when I suddenly realized the other fact. Boys didn't really grow
up. They just pretended to.
Astrid insisted on wearing the shirt to school on Monday, but at least
she put some pants on. But no bra. She didn't own one. We walked into a
mixture of stunned silence, naked envy and complete bitchiness - to my
mind at least, Astrid outshone every girl in my class by a million
Julie kept well out of it, but some of her bitchy friends decided to
dump on Astrid.
"So this is your foreign friend is it?"
"They say that all of the girls over there are loose."
"She's wearing a boy's shirt! Disgusting!"
Astrid looked at them in wonder, then turned to me.
"What is wrong with these people?"
I turned on the girls.
"Hey - leave her alone. She's a guest in our country."
"Go on - take her part. We know what you two did."
Astrid looked at the girls in wonder.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what we mean!"
"You're upset because Christopher and I fucked? Don't you fuck in
"Of course not. We're only fourteen."
"You are all little virgins then? Oh - how sad."
I started to move in - there was a distinct possibility that Astrid was
going to have her eyes clawed out - but then I stopped. The girls had
chosen the most public forum for their attack. It started with a guffaw
from one of the jocks, then the other boys joined in and their laughter
echoed around the whole school while the "sad little virgins" as they
would now be known forever fled in disarray from the only weapon that
could really hurt them.
I didn't know whether the principal had gotten wind of what happened,
but he made a special point of welcoming Astrid to the school and
expressing his confidence that she would be made very welcome. Then he
casually mentioned that anyone who was suspended at the end of the
semester would not be eligible for the next grade and would have to
repeat the freshman year. It didn't make the girls friendly, but they
sure as hell backed off!
Actually, Astrid shone in class. She didn't know much American history
or geography, but she was way ahead in every other subject. And the
teachers positively fawned over her - the men ones at least. But her
major impact was in music.
It was a subject we all disliked, but we trooped dutifully along to the
class to listen to yet another installment of instant culture. The
teacher was late, and Astrid's eyes gleamed when she saw the concert
grand. Ignoring the rest of us, she sat down and started to play. The
buzz of conversation slowly died down as she played a haunting melody -
it had to be Norwegian, because it made me think of the mountains and
When she finished, the silence was palpable, broken by the clapping of
Mr. Schuster who had quietly crept in to the back of the room. That
triggered off the rest of us, of course. Astrid looked alarmed and shot
to her feet, then gave the strange little curtsey that she used when she
spoke to a teacher - it was strange how much respect she showed to them.
"Bravo, Madame. Ballade in G minor by Grieg!"
Astrid actually blushed. Then Mr. Schuster beamed.
"How about some real music? Peer Gynt? Hall of the mountain Kings?"
She looked alarmed.
"Sir - it is not for piano."
"Let's improvise, shall we? Richard - drums. Mark - cymbals."
The two boys sheepishly came to the front while Mr. Schuster laid out
various instruments for himself.
Astrid started with a gentle, rhythmic melody while Mr. Schuster played
a low counterpoint on a bassoon and Richard gently accompanied the tune
with quiet notes on the bass drum. It built up and up in intensity and
volume, and I suddenly realized that this was Viking music. Finally Mr.
Schuster picked up his trumpet and took over the lead as I got
completely wrapped up in the sound - it was the music of the gods, the
sound of Asgard, the theme tune of Thor. He was me and I was him - I was
power, confident, arrogant, invincible.
The applause was deafening. Somehow the energy of the music had touched
each and every one of us.
"You should play professionally."
Astrid blushed again.
"That is my ambition, sir. I study hard."
He glowered at the rest of us.
"See? It is possible!"
I think I grew up during that lesson. I like to imagine that some of the
spirit of the Norse heroes worked its way into me but whatever it was I
suddenly found that my self-confidence had increased. It surfaced a
couple of days later.
It was evening time, and Astrid was looking pretty uncomfortable. She
turned to mom.
"Clare, I need...."
Then she stopped with that look of frustration she got when she didn't
know an English word.
Astrid gestured with her arms.
"The rubber tube up the asshole thing."
I'll say this for Astrid - she certainly was direct! Mom kinda staggered
"The rubber tube...? Do you mean an enema?"
"Yes! That is the word! I have not made a good shit since I arrived."
I couldn't hold it in any longer. I just had to laugh - mainly at the
expression on mom's face as the forbidden words just rolled out.
Eventually I dried up after she glared at me.
"Well, Astrid, if that's what you need...."
"Christopher will have one also. He has been costive too."
Mom didn't say anything - she just disappeared into the bathroom for a
while. When she returned, she beckoned to Astrid.
"Astrid - I'm ready for you now."
"Oh - good. Come on, Christopher."
This time I thought mom was really going to blow.
"Astrid - you don't want Chris there while you take an enema!"
"Well - don't you think you need some privacy?"
Astrid looked genuinely baffled.
"In my home it is a family thing. All together, then in sauna."
"I'd forgotten about the saunas."
I decided to intervene.
"Mom - there's nothing to be embarrassed about. Is there?"
She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to change her mind. I
guess, when it came down to it, she couldn't really think of a reason.
So I just followed on behind as they went into the bathroom and sat on
the toilet seat while mom started in on Astrid's enema.
"Ooh - that feels so good!"
Poor mom. She blushed crimson as Astrid wriggled and grunted while the
warm liquid flowed into her. I don't think she had ever come across
anyone as completely uninhibited as the young girl who was expressing
her satisfaction with the process. Eventually Astrid stood up and
started to rub her stomach. Now it was my turn.
The strangest thing of all had happened. Or rather not happened. The
situation was totally non-erotic and I didn't have the faintest trace of
an erection. Even when mom started my enema, I didn't get a hard on.
Instead, everything seemed to have moved to a level somewhere above sex.
The only way I can describe it was that it gave me a feeling of deep
satisfaction. Or maybe happiness. Whatever it was, it felt amazingly
Then, like a thunderhead, something flashed and crackled inside of me. I
went from limp to major orgasm in a couple of seconds. That finished my
enema. Mom just stopped it and departed, leaving me embarrassed again.
Astrid was transformed by her cleansing. She insisted on preparing
supper and raided the freezer to produce the sort of meal they had at
home. Dad arrived home from work and raised his eyebrows.
"Are we celebrating something?"
"I am celebrating feeling well. Clare gave me a big enema, and now I am
full of energy - and hungry."
I'd never seen dad blush before. He kinda spluttered and suddenly got
interested in the food. Astrid wasn't stopped so easily.
"You Americans do not have family enemas?"
He was purple now.
"We do them all the time at home. It makes you feel really good - and
very sexy too!"
Dad almost choked. Astrid slapped him hard on the back and that seemed
to calm him down somewhat. There was some sort of vague communication
going on between him and mom too - pointed glances, quiet smiles and
Up to that point, Astrid and I had not slept together. I didn't feel
that I should invade her room and when she didn't come to mine I began
to suspect that mom might have laid down the law to her. That night,
however, a lithe, naked shape slid into my bed. We simply enjoyed being
together for a while, then I became conscious of movement and sound. I
listened for a while, trying to make out what it was. Astrid's ears were
better than mine.
"Your parents - they are making love!"
Oh shit! She was right. How horribly embarrassing. Then I felt her hand
start to wander and I forgot all about mom and dad.
Dad took me to one side the following day and pressed a hundred bucks
into my hand.
"What's this for?"
"Take Astrid shopping - I owe her."
He punched me in the chest in triumph.
"I've been trying to get your mother to...you know what...for years.
Suddenly, Astrid says it makes you sexy and bingo... What a night!"
I walked away in a daze.
"Astrid! Come on - let's go to the mall...."
I didn't get much of a chance to talk to dad for a few days, but finally
mom and Astrid were out shopping and I was lounging on the deck in
shorts, enjoying the summer sunshine. Dad came out, carrying a six pack
of beer - and two tall glasses. He handed one to me, then filled it with
chilled amber liquid.
I was astounded. Booze was something I wasn't allowed at home or
anywhere else - my only experience had been a few sips from one illicit
can passed round a group of boys. I looked at him in amazement.
"Heck, son, you're old enough to have a beer with your old man."
It felt strange. I mean, I liked dad a lot, but I respected him too much
for us to be buddies. Dad had always been the avenging angel of my
childhood, and my juvenile butt had more than once felt the painful
impact of his hard hand. Not that he beat me savagely or anything like
that, but he had definite ideas about how a kid should behave and if I
did something really bad or stupid or dangerous he reckoned that a short
painful lesson was the best way of getting my attention. In fact, I
tended to agree with him - it sure as hell was better than being
I sipped my beer, not that I particularly liked the taste, but because
it was a kind of rite of passage and marked me out as a man amongst men.
I wasn't used to alcohol, and the effect was to make me very relaxed and
a bit giggly. So much so that the question I had been afraid to ask just
kinda popped out.
"Dad. Did mom really give you an enema?"
"She sure did."
Now I suddenly felt awkward. Until a few days previously I had not been
aware of my parents' sex life and I still found it strange that people
of their age would have any interest in the subject - hell, they were
past forty! Dad reached over and freshened my beer - it was only much
later that I realized the whole thing had been planned. Mom had gotten
Astrid out of the way so that dad could talk to me - I don't know whose
idea the beer was, but it certainly helped!
"Dad, did your mom give you enemas when you were a little boy?"
He shook his head.
"No. It was my grandmother - she's dead now - that was the giver of
enemas. She lived just down the road from us and when I was little and
not too well, mom would send me to see grandma to have my bowels cleaned
Then he chuckled.
"Of course, when I got older, I just went on my own. It was kinda cozy
and intimate - just grandma and me in her little bathroom with the enema
bag hanging from a special hook in the wall. It was our secret - I never
told mom once I was old enough to go by myself. We used to talk about
all of my troubles while she washed them away with a bag full of
soapsuds. I don't know if you understand that."
"Yeah. I know what you mean. I had one in Norway before the Yule
festival and it made me all clean and fresh for the ceremony."
So then I told him the whole story, including the fact that I had seen
the gods and how I had my first screw afterwards.
"Hey, dad, it was awesome! I mean, I thought it would be just like
jerking off, but it isn't. And Astrid's real good at making love."
Even the alcohol could not completely cushion the shock as I realized
what I had said. Dad reached over and ruffled my hair.
"I'll tell you a secret. When your mom and I were keeping company, I
could feel that the big day was approaching - I was hot and she was hot,
I'd bought my first pack of rubbers and I just knew it was going to
happen that Saturday. Well, I got all uptight about it - hell, I was in
an awful state and I just knew it was all going to go wrong, that I
wouldn't know what to do, that I wouldn't be able to get it up...you
know the sort of thing."
I nodded, although I didn't have the foggiest idea what he meant. I
mean, screwing was just natural and it had never occurred to me that
there could ever be a problem doing it. Getting it was a different
matter, of course! Then I realized what he was getting at.
"So you went to see your grandma?"
"Got it! She gave me this huge enema and she made me calm down - and
everything went fine afterwards."
"How old were you?"
"Eighteen. We didn't start while we were still in short pants when I was
"But mom didn't do enemas?"
"No - she reckoned they were old fashioned. It wasn't until you got
really stuffed that she got the bag and cleaned you out."
I let the subject drop then - I didn't want to know exactly what dad and
mom had done.
"You know, dad, Astrid's going home in a couple of weeks. I don't know
what I'll do when she's gone. I wish she could stay for ever and ever."
"I just bet you do. Maybe she could stay a little longer though and come
along on vacation with us. But she will have to go back eventually and
it's going to hurt when she does."
I knew that, of course, but I wasn't going to let myself think about it
until I absolutely had to. Another month represented a long time to me.
We always vacationed on the west coast and by this time we knew a lot of
quiet places as well as the tourist traps. This year was to be different
because dad and mom decided to show Astrid that the USA had places even
more spectacular that Norway. So we rented a camper and set out for
Arizona - we would then travel through Utah and Nevada before finally
ending up by the Pacific.
I had to laugh the first night out. It was a pretty big camper, with a
bedroom for mom and dad while the bench seat in the dining part
converted into another bed. I always used a sleeping bag in the camper,
and mom had borrowed another for Astrid - maybe she reckoned that we
weren't really sleeping together as long as each of us was safely
wrapped up in a tube of bedding.
Astrid soon fixed that! She unzipped each bag completely, then mated
them to produce one large bag. Mom looked like she was going to say
something, but dad just hustled her away into their room.
That's when I suddenly realized what dad had meant about not being able
to do it. My parents were just on the other side of a thin plywood
partition and they would be able to hear everything - in fact, given the
suspension of the camper, they would probably feel it as well. My dick
seemed to shrink and to lose all feeling - even when Astrid played with
it there was no discernible effect. I just simply could not perform with
what amounted to an audience.
Astrid sighed, then pulled herself halfway out of the bag and started to
rummage through her belongings. She pulled out a rubber bulb with a long
"Hey - what's that?"
She giggled quietly.
She held the nozzle close to my nose and squeezed the bulb, wafting a
heady scent of rubber and soap into my nostrils. She reached down and
felt my penis - it was already starting to rise to the occasion. She
"It's for enemas?"
"My parents were not sure whether your mother would have any equipment.
This is...portable syringe."
She handed it to me while she crept out of bed and filled a large jar
with water. Cold water. Even the thought of it sent shivers up my spine.
"I'm all right now, Astrid. Look."
I slid out of the bag and displayed my erection. She took no notice and
simply relieved me of the bulb and filled it from the jar. She lay back
and retracted her legs enticingly - I was ready now, and slid straight
in. Then I went rigid as I felt the nozzle searching for my asshole -
Astrid eventually located it by feel and I closed my eyes in ecstasy as
the cold pipe slid deep into my rectum.
I started to move, slowly at first, trying not to make any noise that
would alert my parents. The object in my asshole seemed to be sending
out waves of extra pleasure, and I began to quicken my pace.
Then, without any warning, Astrid squeezed the bulb and sent a blast of
cold water into my rectum. The effect was galvanizing - I yelled in
surprise, felt the pain of incipient cramp suddenly convert to a strange
stimulation, one that sent me into a frenzy of thrusting and took both
of us to a violent and noisy climax.
As I got my breath, I was conscious of a deadly silence. My prick
contracted again to some sort of minuscule worm and I cringed at the
thought that my parents must have heard everything.
Then I heard a deep groan. Then a slow rustling noise. Finally both
Astrid and I broke into smothered giggling as the unmistakable sound of
lovemaking filled the camper. Dad was heavier than me as well - the
whole body began to rock slowly as he worked his way to a crescendo.
It was mom I felt sorry for the next day. She blushed a lot and she
never met my eyes at all - I must admit that I felt pretty awkward as
well. Astrid, bless her, managed to defuse the situation.
It had been a hot, horrible and sweaty day when we finally reached
higher ground. Dad pulled us off the highway on to a track, searching
for a quiet place to park up for the night. We found a small clearing
near a cool, inviting stream and Astrid lost no time.
"Oh - clean water. I must wash!"
I thought dad's eyes were going to pop right out of his head when she
threw off all of her clothes, grabbed a bar of soap and a towel and made
for the stream. I wasn't worried about following suit - dad was dad and
my bashfulness with mom had been thoroughly washed away with soapsuds!
Astrid and I splashed and yelled with sheer delight as the sweat and
grime of the day were rinsed away. Astrid called out to the camper.
"Come and join us! It's absolutely wonderful."
Mom's head poked out of the door, then dad obviously gave her a push,
because she suddenly leaped out. It was my turn to be shocked - she was
It's strange how you get used to something. After a minute or so, it
didn't matter that we were all stark naked. Afterwards, mom and dad were
acting like teenagers, cuddling and whispering to each other.
Finally dad posed the question.
"Hey, guys, we've never considered it before, but what say we look for
one of those naturist places? I could get used to this way of life."
Well, that ushered in a wonderful vacation. Mom and dad discovered that
naturism is more than just taking your clothes off - fortunately mom had
somehow thought to pack the enema bag and it got quite a lot of use over
the next couple of weeks!
Still, everything has to end eventually. I cried like a baby when Astrid
packed her things to drive to the airport - and so did she. We embraced
and I tried to suppress the awful feeling that this was the last time we
would ever see each other.
"Oh - when I called my parents last night, they asked me to invite all
of you for Yule."
Mom, dad and I looked at each other. Then we all nodded....