Return of the Bridesmaid

In the last story I introduced everyone to Martha and how we accidentally linked up at Dave and Katie's wedding where they had to share Uncle Jack's lake cottage instead of the local motel. After the wedding we both went our own ways and had no further contact. It is now some 15 years after the wedding, but life does present some odd twists from time to time.

Just to bring everyone up to date, I married Julie in 2004, we have a 12 year old daughter, and I had a very successful career where I was now a partner in a large regional architectural firm. Martha, on the other hand, had married Sean, her second husband in 2002 and gave birth to twin boys shortly thereafter. Julie and I had just had a major disagreement and she threw me out with instructions to figure things out before coming back. For Martha, things were at a far more critical stage because they had divorced and shared custody of the boys. As for Uncle Jack, he passed away not even a year earlier and my cousin Dave and his wife Katie wound up inheriting the lake cottage.

It was a warm late June Wednesday when I pulled my new company-owned Mercedes-Benz S550 down the dirt lane leading to the cottage. Other than a change to the exterior wood stain, the cottage appeared just as it had when I visited in 2001. I got out, found the key, and let myself in. Taking a chance, I checked the fridge and was happy to find a cold six pack of Heineken beer. I grabbed a bottle and went out onto the deck overlooking the lake, cracked open the beer, sat down in one of the huge Adirondack chairs, and took a long pull. The beer tasted great and quench my thirst. Tired, I put my feet up on an adjacent chair and, with the combination of fatigue and the warmth of the day, dozed off.

I don't know how long I had been asleep when I was awakened by someone shaking my left shoulder. Opening my eyes I was surprised to see an attractive woman who was probably in her early 40's. "What? Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Martha and my sister owns this cottage. Who are you?"

"Martha? Really Martha? The last time we saw one another was here at Dave and Katie's wedding. Remember?"

She put on a frown, but then a flash of memory, "Oh, yes. Yes, I do remember that wonderful weekend. Right now I was hoping to spend some time here. My husband and I are now divorced and I thought it best to just get away from Seattle."

"I heard from Katie that you had had twins."

"I did. Here's their pictures," said Martha opening her purse.

" Nice. How old are they?" I asked.

"Fourteen last November." I did some quick calculations and concluded that Martha had conceived the boys very shortly after when we were together at this very cottage during Dave and Katie's wedding. She was using a diaphragm at the time.

I responded to the pictures, "They're two handsome guys. You have to be very proud."

"I am. That's the reason that I'm so happy about joint custody," Martha said.

"Well, I am planning to stay here a few days sorting things out in my life. So it is best if we head into town and pick up a few things," I said fishing out my car keys. "It looks like we're staying together for a time so maybe you want to come with me." Without saying another word, Martha followed along as I headed to the car.

About a half hour later we pulled into the parking space of the small supermarket. I had the basic grocery list in mind when I picked up a package of ground beef, a package of franks, rolls, a loaf of bread, eggs, salad, another six pack of Heineken, and two six packs of Coke. "Is there anything else that we need?" I asked Martha whose face turned crimson at the question. We wandered over to the pharmacy section of the store and all the while I was wondering what she was so embarrassed about because here was a woman who has had sex with me so it couldn't be that she would be embarrassed about either condoms or a feminine hygiene item. My curiosity was not kept waiting when Martha went to a shelf and took a box containing a combination syringe and put it in the cart. Our eyes did not meet, nor was anything said.

When we got back to the cottage, Martha excused herself and disappeared in the direction of the bathroom while I grabbed another beer and headed for the deck planning to reclaim the Adirondack chair. I sipped the cold beer and savored every ounce, but my mind drifted to what Martha might be doing with her new purchase in the bathroom. Finally, curiosity got the best of me and I went back into the cottage and knocked on the bathroom door. "Are you OK in there?" I asked.

"Well, not really?"

"Are you sick?"

"No, I think I might need a little help though. And it's really embarrassing."

"Help with what?" I asked now really wanting to know what was happening on the other side of that door.

"Oh, OK, I'll come out with it. Do you know how to give an enema?"

"What?!"

"Do you know how to give an enema? I'm terribly blocked up and it's the only thing that is going to give me relief. I had some as a child, but don't remember how my mom did them."

"Well, you bought an enema bag. The directions have to be on the box."

"They are, but they don't make sense to me. Do you know anything about them?"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, why not. There isn't anything here that you haven't seen or even touched before."

I went into the bathroom only to find Martha naked from the waist down holding the enema bag that was partially filled with water. "Are you going to take a full bag?" I asked.

"I don't know. Should I?"

"If you are as blocked up as you say you are, a whole bag seems like a good idea. Do you have the water warm enough?"

"How can I tell?"

"Do the touch test. If it seems cool to the touch it isn't warm enough, but if it is so warm that you don't want to keep your finger in it, then it's too hot."

"When I was a little girl, mom used to lie me over her lap. You wouldn't want to do the honors now, would you?"

"I guess I could. But are you using just plain water or did you make it a little soapy?"

"Oh, I forgot that my mom used to do that. I guess we have to start this all over again," Martha said emptying the contents of the enema bag into the sink and starting to run the water again. After about 20 minutes of tutoring, I got Martha to the point where she was ready for me to give her the enema. I attached the hose and hung the bag from what I surmised was the robe hook next to the shower, sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and had Martha position herself over my lap.

"Now this is going to be a bit cold," I told her as I took some Vaseline on my index finger and proceeded to lube her pucker.

Martha nevertheless flinched, but then it seemed like her sphincter muscles were trying to draw in my lubed finger. At last she was ready and I inserted the nozzle and began her enema. At first there was no reaction even as the warm water invaded her, but after a few moments Martha's breathing deepened and I could see that her pussy had begun to glisten. "This enema is turning her on," I thought to myself and took the liberty of fingering her. Martha purred like a kitten, but also was getting even wetter by the second.

To say that Martha took her enema like a champ would be an understatement and after about five minutes had taken the entire two quart contents of the bag. I was just starting to think that this all had to be churning away inside of her, when Martha said "I think I really have to go!" She got up off my lap, I raised the lid to the toilet and headed for the door just as she was sitting down. I tried to make a quick exit, but it wasn't quick enough because before I closed the door to give her needed privacy, a huge quantity of noisy enema exited her body.

I returned to the deck and took another long pull on the half empty bottle of beer. In reflecting on the day so far, I came here to get my thoughts together with the hopes that Julie and I could patch things up, but instead I meet up again with a woman who I had had a weekend fling with years ago, but whom I also had just given an enema. "This is nuts!" I said to myself downing another mouthful of beer.

A few minutes later Martha came out on the deck wearing just a tee shirt and was still naked from the waist down. I got a good look at her and concluded that 15 years later she was still a good looking woman. The only real difference that I could notice was that she had taken to shaving her pussy whereas before she had a nicely trimmed bush. "So are you feeling better?" I asked.

"You can't believe how much better. I hadn't gone in at least a week, but that enema sure worked. The only problem now is that you have made me unbelievably horny. With my marital problems I should inform you that I haven't had sex in nearly a year."

At this she caught my attention. Here was a very good looking lady, with whom I previously had had phenomenal sex I might add, that was in need. I couldn't help but notice her pussy was at my eye level and thinking how much it really needed it to be filled with cum . . . my cum. I put down the bottle of beer, reached out and grabbed her ass with both hands, and drew her closer. I could see how her pussy's glistening has increased in just a couple of minutes, but also could garner that faint salty odor that it emitted.

Drawing her even closer I kissed her lips and then ran my tongue the length of her slit before deciding to suckle her clit. "Don't stop doing that," she begged as I felt its juices drip down my chin.

In the meantime I could feel my manhood swelling in my pants, my loins literally aching for want of fucking her. "I think I know how you plan things because the last time we did this you had first inserted your diaphragm."

"Don't worry, I graduated to the pill years ago. I might not have had sex for nearly a year, but I still never want to preclude the chance.

"And I never like to deny any lady in distress."

"I sort of knew that you'd say that," she said turning away from me and walking to the edge of the deck, placing her elbows on the rail and resting her chin on he hands, and looking out at the pastoral beauty of the lake. In doing so she revealed a very wet pussy from a different perspective. It was too much to pass up and I approached her from the rear, unzipped my jeans, and entered her. Martha was incredibly wet with her own juices, but her pussy was comfortably tight as I moved in and out of her. She moved her hips in unison with me and it was evident that she had not lost any of her technique because she reached climax and seconds later so did I.

"You are just as good now as you were back then," Martha said to me.

"Gee, thanks. I was thinking the same about you."

"How would you like to go in and get me a towel and a beer. It would save me dripping cum throughout the cottage," giggled Martha whose pussy had started dripping as she sat in the other Adirondack chair.

"Sure thing. Don't go away," I said heading into the cottage. On my way I thought "but then again where was she going to go wearing just a tee shirt?" A minute or two later I re-emerged with the beer and a towel. Martha needed both, but perhaps the towel more so as there was already a small puddle forming under her chair.

"So tell me," she began, "were you getting turned on giving me that enema?"

"Yeah, I think I was. It was more than just being in proximity of your pussy, too."

"Did your mom give you enemas? Did they turn you on?"

"Yes, she did, but I really didn't like having to get one. It wasn't that I got that many either, but it was not a nice experience."

"When did you have your last one?"

"I've only had one in the last 25 years or so when Julie gave me one because I had to get a sigmoidicopic exam. Come to think of it I wasn't impressed with that one either."

"Really? I bet I could give you an enema and get you seriously turned on."

"I think that is a bit of a stretch. Besides there is no way . . . "

"Don't be so sure about that. I used to give my ex one from time to time and he would get unbelievably hard when I did."

"I can't believe that."

"Want to find out? It would be worth a try, wouldn't it? Besides if you get as hard as Sean did, we would both benefit, wouldn't we?"

"No! Forget it! Ain't going to happen!"

"Why not? Modesty? That can't be. We've had sex several times plus you have already given me an enema. I'd say turnabout is fair play. Or maybe you aren't gutsy enough to let me try."

"Now wait just a minute. If it is that important to you, we'll give it a try, but I think your theory is all wrong."

"So then we should just go test it. Come on." Martha got up, held the towel between her legs because, yes, she was still dripping, and led me to the bathroom. Once there, she ran the water at the sink, took the enema bag from the towel rack and proceeded to fill it. That's when it dawned on me—she didn't need my help taking her enema, but wanted me involved. Is this woman sneaky or what?

After reattaching the hose to the enema bag, Martha instructed me to take off my jeans and briefs and kneel on the bathroom rug. Once I was in place, she lubed my pucker, inserted the nozzle, and started the flow. On the one hand I was not really enjoying the experience, but on the other was thinking that there was probably no better way to get an enema than from a foxy lady. Nevertheless, I continued to fill with the warm water solution and could feel it starting to go to work as that full feeling came over me and the urge slowly build.

While all this was happening I became acutely aware of another development, namely that I had gotten a pretty stiff erection, a fact that was not lost on Martha who observed, "See I told you that you'd enjoy this."

"I'm not really having a good time," I informed her. "Even if I am getting erect."

"Well, we'll see. If you can maintain it, there will be a nice reward for you," she said rubbing her pussy with her free hand. It was then that I concluded that Martha was really savoring this experience. She might have wet pussy lips from the earlier fucking, but my guess was that she was also getting excited at my expense. But, hey, nothing wrong with a nice warm, wet pussy.

A few minutes later I had managed, albeit with gritted teeth and curled toenails, to take the entire bag. The idea of sitting on the toilet and getting rid of it all was one of the most appealing thoughts in recent memory. Martha removed the nozzle and left me on my own to enjoy that part of the experience. It was certainly akin to the heavens opening up as wave after wave of enema exited my body. While it did not start out that way, by the time I was finished it left me with a refreshed and exhilarating feeling.

There was a knock on the door followed by Martha asking, "Are you OK?"

My answer was "I'm great. What do you want to do next?"

"I could give you your reward, if you think you are up to it."

Just the thought of Martha and that warm, wet pussy of hers made me feel up to it. It could not have been much of a surprise for Martha because she wasn't just naked from waist down, but now totally naked and the sight of her perfect B-cup titties was even more inspiration. I followed her to the bedroom where she pushed me down on my back on the bed, crawled up on top of me and lowered herself onto my predictably stiff penis. Martha leaned over and encouraged me to suckle her nipples so they became erect, but also hard enough to probably cut class. She wanted more cum as if that first climax hadn't given her enough. Several minutes of energetic movement and her wish was fulfilled. Of course, with her being on top it also meant that her pussy was almost immediately draining its contents onto my loins.

We got laid three more times between that afternoon and the next morning. She was insatiable and I was feeling quite spent. The next morning upon arising I realized that we didn't have any coffee so I volunteered to run into town as Martha made breakfast. With town being a several miles away it took nearly an hour to run the errand, but upon my return I didn't see Martha's car by the cottage. Going inside it was apparent that she had gone because all of her clothes were missing, too. I had had a great 24 hours with her, but realized that I didn't even have her cell number. It was as if the whole event was a dream, a good one, but a dream nevertheless.

I made myself a pot of coffee and sat puzzled by the events as pleasant as they might have been. Sitting there looking out at the lake in the morning solitude I was jolted from my thoughts by the dinging of my cellphone telling me that I had a text message. Opening up the phone I saw that it was Julie telling me that she really missed me and wanted to make up. She asked where I was. I texted back and told her about Uncle Jack's cottage and how to get here. Then I had a sigh of relief knowing that Martha was long gone.

"I got mom to look after Lori so I'm coming to see you. I should be there by 2 p.m.," came her immediate reply.

**to be continued**