The three-day shoot for the lingerie catalog had been completed, and Monica was able to take the day off and do some shopping in Beverly Hills and Hollywood. Life as a young lingerie model had been good to her, and Monica's success at it had enabled her to buy a small but very cozy beach cottage in Malibu. Everyday she thanked the gods for that perfect body of hers, for those stunning good looks.
She let herself into her cottage, dressed in a perfectly fitted pair of French jeans she had purchased that afternoon, topped by a lovely Italian silk top. Home now, she put down her bags and relaxed a moment. Then she began to undress, pulling off the new jeans, lifting off the top. The frilly half-bra and the bikini panties were leftovers from the last lingerie job, two very sexy French numbers. Monica admired herself a moment in a full length mirror. Yes, her tall, slender, well-toned body, topped with a surprisingly full pair of breasts, certainly did to justice to the sexy undergarments!
Now she unsnapped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She was glad to have gotten away to that Mexican topless beach for a few days earlier that month where she was able to let her titties acquire the same deep golden glow as the rest of her body.
Then she pulled off her panties, revealing a bottom that was as tan as her top. And revealing too the surprisingly lush and dense tangle of curls between her legs, covering her pussy. Some women, especially models, liked to shave down there, or at least to keep it very trim. Not Monica. She shaved only to the panty line. But otherwise she liked to have a luxuriant growth cap her mound. Plus, her lover Cherise happened to very turned on by Monica's thick, golden shag.
Monica smiled to herself as she thought of what was next. On the slow Pacific Coast Highway crawl back to her beach cottage Monica had consumed a full liter bottle of French mineral water, and part of a second. Her bladder was feeling pleasantly full. Now she went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and retrieved yet another liter bottle. She poured herself a big glass and gulped it down. Yes, full. Very, very, very delightfully full indeed! Her eyes suddenly went bright and her lips curled in a sly smile. She had an idea. Suddenly, she knew just what she wanted to do next. And so now Monica put her panties and jeans back on, but left her top bare. She grabbed the bottle and a glass and went out on the porch, stretching out on a deck chair as she poured herself another big glass of the fizzy mineral water.
Soon she had completely downed the bottle. Now Monica was feeling it. Not just full, but utterly, profoundly bloated! She had to go! She had to go real, real bad! Monica loved this moment, her bladder to the bursting point, squirming, desperately holding it in. Often this was out of necessity; she'd be driving or in public and far from a toilet. But now, here, the toilet was only a few feet away and this time Monica was holding it in for the sheer, pure pleasure of it. She was about to indulge in a very, very special and very private fetish, one she indulged in occasionally. It was one of her two secret vices. When she could finally bear it no longer, when the urge to relieve herself, to finally piss became overwhelming, Monica was not going to rush to the bathroom. No, she would stay right where she was, stretched out on her deck chair and sunning her perfect breasts while she
pissed in her jeans!
"Oh God! Oh God! Now!"
she groaned to herself, as suddenly, she let go, Instantly she could feel the warm wetness between her legs, then soon down her thighs, her legs, soaking the seat of her new jeans. She looked down at the wet stain quickly spreading as she urinated. She was so full and her flow was so strong that she was pissing a stream right
through
her panties and jeans, and she could hear it splash against the concrete floor.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
she moaned, cupping the crotch of her jeans, utterly soaked.
Finally, after what seemed like endless minutes, her flow slowed to a trickle. She stood now and went back inside, straight to a full length mirror.
She admitted that all models are narcissists, she no less than any other. And so now she stared at her own image almost lovingly, deeply aroused by the view. Above the waist, her supple, naked, bronzed torso. And below, her brand new French jeans. Except they were
wet
now,
utterly
soaked. The crotch, the inside of her pant legs, the entire seat when she turned and looked over her shoulder, were drenched with piss.
She loved the way it looked, and she craved the way the wet, warm fabric felt clinging to her smooth skin. Slowly she pulled down her wet jeans, then the soaked panties, bringing them up to her nose to savor the scent, to feel the warm dampness against her cheeks, her lips. Yes, Monica loved that sensation of being full until she could stand it no longer and then relieving herself. Especially now, when she relieved herself while clothed, not letting her piss escape freely into the toilet bowl, abandoning her. But trapping the copious urinary flow in her garments, feeling it wet against her for many delicious minutes.
Naked again, Monica set the wet panties and jeans aside and thought now about her other secret vice. This too was about being bloated with liquid until she could stand it no longer. And then, finally, relieving herself. Except this time the liquid was to be introduced into her sleek body from the other end. No, this liquid she would not drink. And this water would not come from a refrigerated bottle. No, it would be soothingly warm and come from the bathroom tap. This water would be introduced in the form of an
enema!
Now Monica reached into the bottom drawer of her dresser, under a pile of sweaters, and retrieved a plastic bag. Taking a deep, excited breath she pulled out of that bag the instrument of her second secret fetish, an enema kit.
She stared at it a moment, knowing that a secret, somewhat depraved and profoundly intense excitement was imminent. For some reason -- maybe it was the enemas an attractive aunt had administered to her when she was young, administered and forced her to retain while locked in a closet -- Monica was
deeply, deeply
aroused by giving herself enemas while she fantasized and masturbated.
Now she headed to the bathroom with the enema bag and a parcel she had brought back home with her from her shopping trip that afternoon.
First she made sure to clamp the hose of the bag, then she turned on the tap, adjusting the water temperature until it was just right. Finally she filled the bag to the brim with water -- she knew it held just over two quarts -- and hung it from a shower hook.
Now she reached into the parcel and pulled out a big red enema nozzle she had purchased earlier at an adult toy store that catered to lesbians, and was about to use for the first time. So excited that her fingers were trembling slightly, she attached the nozzle to the end of enema bag's hose. Enema kits normally come with a thin nozzle, one that does the job. But this special nozzle was imported from Germany, where, Monica had heard, enema sex is said to be big. It was much larger and thicker than a standard nozzle and just the sight of it had thrilled Monica when she saw it down at the store and purchased it.
She removed the bath mat off the rim of the tub and placed it on the floor, then opened her medicine cabinet and reached for a jar of petroleum jelly. Breathing deeply now, her excitement rapidly mounting, Monica dug a finger into the Vaseline and, getting down on her knees, she reached back and worked a big dab of the petroleum jelly into the crack of her ass, rubbing it in there, lubricating her asshole, working a stiff finger inside to get some of the grease in deeper. She loved preparing herself like this, lubricating and fingering her ass. Again, maybe it was those early experience's with her aunt and her aunt's nozzles, but Monica was fixated on anal pleasuring and as long as she had been masturbating -- which though she was just twenty-one now, had been for many years --- Monica liked to play with her anus as well as her pussy whenever she sought pleasure with her own fingers.
At that moment a BMW pulled up to the cottage. It was Monica's lover, Cherise, a tall, stunning black beauty. Like Monica, Cherise had worked as a lingerie model, but had moved on to men's magazine work, making more money by shedding the lingerie and revealing her sleek, dark, sinuous body for all to see. Little did all those men who stared at her luscious body in magazine layouts, stiff cocks in hand, realize that Cherise had little interest in men. It was pussy, rather than cock, that intrigued her.
Cherise led herself into the cottage, thinking no one was home. Monica had parked the car a little way down the street when she had come home and found her driveway partly blocked. So Cherise hadn't seen Monica's car. And Monica wasn't expecting her. Cherise, in fact, had told her she wouldn't be back from a late shoot until around Midnight. But a power failure at the photo studio brought that day's shoot to a sudden halt. So now Cherise was home.
Meanwhile, Monica, oblivious to her lover's unexpected arrival, was down on her knees on the bath mat, reaching back between her cheeks, nozzle in hand. Taking another deep breath, she slid the nozzle into her anus and released the clamp, letting out a sigh as she felt the warm water rush in and begin to fill her. For Monica this was one of life's sublime moments, and she closed her eyes now to savor it.
At that very moment Cherise turned a corner, heading towards the bathroom.
The bathroom door was open and as Cherise peered inside she was met by quite a sight. There was her lover, moaning and groaning, down on her knees taking an enema, her fingers buried between her legs as she masturbated in a frenzy of excitement, completely oblivious to Cherise standing in the doorway, watching.
"Monica, whatever are you doing down there?"
A shocked, stunned Monica gasped, whipping her head around to see Cherise watching her. Her face instantly reddened with humiliation at being caught in such a compromising position. Cherise was rather stunned herself, but the sight of her lithe, striking lover down on her knees naked, with a nozzle stuck up her behind, was strangely arousing. And the pink blush of Monica's embarrassment at having been caught like this only added to the allure.
"I... I... I... was giving myself an... an enema," Monica mumbled in a shaky voice.
"While playing with your pussy?" Cherise smirked wickedly.
That only made Monica blush a deeper shade of pink as she now clamped the enema hose and pulled the nozzle out of her ass, turning around on her knees, and throwing her hands over her face
"Oh God Cherise, I feel
so, so
embarrassed. I didn't think you'd be home this early."
