First Time Fist
I.
I punched in the apartment number, and pressed the "call" button. Barely five seconds passed before the little speaker came to life. "Come on in," she flatly chimed. If she was a bit overeager answering the door, her voice betrayed none of her anticipation.
Cindy lives in a nice low-rise middle class apartment, built around the turn of the century. The walls are thick and sturdy, affording good privacy from the neighbors. It's an important feature if, like Cindy, you're a single lady in her mid-30s who has gentlemen visitors. Quite frequently, I would imagine.
As I pushed the half open door to apartment 3C, I was greeted by the lovely smile of... Emily, Cindy's roommate and friend from college. She was sitting on the armchair, her face resurfacing from the thriller book she had in her hands. Her long, brown hair nicely framing her mildly attractive face, accented with her thick rimmed glasses.
"Hey, how are you? Cindy's in the bedroom."
And for a millisecond, I swore her smile turned into a smirk. So much for privacy.
I found the door to Cindy's bedroom and knocked.
"One second," came her reply.
I dropped my backpack on the floor.
From the room came some rustling sound, then footsteps. Cindy opened the door and greeted me with a hug. She was wearing one of those oversized t-shirts that came down to her knees. Despite the baggy fabric's best efforts, the hug exposed her lovely curves to my touch. Ah, what have I done in a previous life to deserve her as my fuck buddy.
Time out, Dear Reader. I believe it is time to explain our relationship, because Cindy is not exactly my "fuck buddy." Because you see, we have never had intercourse.
By day, I am the stereotypical boring midlevel male manager, and Cindy is an attractive interior decorator. By night, I become an erotic writer, and she an avid reader of the same. We met in the comments section of our favorite erotic story forum, and one thing lead to another, as they say. We would meet and act out our kinky fantasies, but with one caveat: we would never have intercourse. She prefers sending me home to my wife, desperately horny.
We now return to the present, me closing the door to Cindy's bedroom behind me.
Cindy broke the hug, her hands still clasped behind my head, face SO close I could kiss her. But she would hate that. She loves reminding me that our relationship is based on sexual exploration, not intimacy.
"So, are we on? Like your last story?" her full dick-sucking lips asks, her deep dark eyes twinkling with anticipation.
"Yeah, I've had this fantasy forever. Let's see if the reality is as good as... I mean, as a writer, I have a responsibility to do research."
She laughed, and beckoned me to follow her into the ensuite bathroom. Another nice feature of these older buildings, which tend to be relatively roomier compared to new developments. In the middle of the room is a queen-sized bed. And a 90-degree turn to the left of the bedroom door, is the bathroom door.
As she made her way to the bathroom, her full hips swayed under the t-shirt. Like a teenager, I made an effort to grab the hem of her shirt, but she scooted away before I could reach her. Wasting no time, Cindy walked towards the bathroom counter.
"Come here, Butty Boy," she ordered.
II.
Cindy has been preparing for my arrival.
There is the familiar 1 liter enema bag on the counter. On the bottom end, a long silicon hose runs out of it for almost 2 meters. At the end of that hose, is a new nozzle I haven't seen before. It is shaped like a small metal butt plug, about 2cm across and 8cm long, with many small perforations on the surface of its head. The nozzle/plug tapers down to a short neck about 1cm in diameter. Instead of a flared circular base, this neck attaches directly to the hose. Securely, I hope. Instead of a valve, the water is held in the bag by clamping the hose with... a hair clip? I had a small chuckle out of that one.
While I was busy examining the nozzle, Cindy retrieved a bottle of lube from the drawer under the sink. She held the nozzle in her left hand, and applied lube from the bottle with her right. I dropped my shorts and duly bent over the bathroom counter. In the mirror, I saw her meticulously spread the lube over the nozzle with her fingers.
"Deep breaths, and push out."
I appreciate the cue, although having done this several times, I hardly needed instructions. The stainless steel nozzle felt cold to the touch, but the sensation quickly passed. Cindy let me adjust to having a foreign object in my rectum, before releasing the water.
"It's warm," I commented, feeling the water rushing into my gut.
"Hope you like it," she said. "Took me a couple of tries getting the correct temperature from the shower." She hung the bag by a hook she had put on the towel rack, above the toilet behind me.
Almost as soon as the water went in, I felt the familiar urge to push it out.
"Uhhh I gotta go..."
"Just go," she directed her gaze at the toilet.
I positioned myself over the toilet bowl, and pulled the hose out. Cindy used the hair clip to stop the water flow.
This is the first time I ever had to evacuate in her presence. She looked at me with an expression of... curiosity? No, more like a cat playing with her prey. Although she has told me on several occasions that she's usually submissive in her relationships, she's always keen to point out: "but I'm not YOUR sub." Ouch.
As I finished cleaning myself, she had the bag refilled to full capacity and ready to go. This time, more of the water went in. I voided again, and she gave me more enemas.
After the fifth time, I saw the bag going completely empty on the hook, without feeling the familiar cramps.
"Hold it in for me babe?" She asks, as she pulled the nozzle out.
I nodded.