P & M

Editor's Note: story contains scat fetish content.

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Mom has always had a constipation problem, and when dad died it apparently got worse; as she didn't tolerate many medications, she took a daily enema.

Every day I administered it with a douche, and I admit I at times got aroused at her genitalia – but a son is supposed not to leer at them, so I stared away.

But my doctor once suspected I was diabetic, so he asked me to pee for a whole day into a two-gallon plastic bottle – if I could really fill it, I could really be diabetic, and I needed a blood test.

When I came at mom's, late in the afternoon, I carried this bottle with me, just in case I had to pee (an easy bet), and I found a disappointed mom – and somewhat reeking.

"Sorry, son, today I couldn't shower because the condo administrator didn't pay the water bill, so it has been cut off. Service won't resume until Monday."

"So you can come to my home, have a shower and your enema."

"Can I have the enema now? My bowels are nearly bursting, but I'm unable to shit."

"I have nothing to make an enema with ... I've bought some beer, but using it for enemas is definitely a bad idea."

"What about this bottle?"

"It collects my pee – you know, the doctor is afraid I'm diabetic, so it has asked me to collect all my today's pee into."

Mom leered at it and said, "Can't you collect your pee for him tomorrow?"

"Mom! I can go and buy a bottle of mineral water!"

"The shops are closing. You may not be there on time, and I badly need the enema now."

"Ok, mom. Let me go to the toiled and pee into the bottle."

"You needn't do that. The douche is here, and I have already seen your member countless times – no need to hide it from me."

So I had to lower my pants (not just open the zip, since my panties lacked the fly), show the member to my mom, who took it into her right hand while her left hand was holding the bottle, inserted the penis into the bottle and then asked me to pee.

When I was done, mom told me, "You really pee a lot! Perhaps your doctor is right!"

"So thinks my wife, who has been witness to several instances of erectile failure," I replied; mom giggled, but noticed that while she was holding my penis, it had somewhat grown.

I asked mom to bend over a chair, filled the douche, and administered her an enema; just a douche shot wouldn't suffice, so I filled her rectum twice, three times, and then stopped her anus with my middle finger, waiting for her feces to mollify.

Mom moved the index and ring finger so that they touched her labia (ok, mom loves teasing me, but I'm her son, I'm supposed to ignore such provocation), and when she felt that the moment had come, asked me to follow her to the toilet.

It was funny: my right middle finger was into her butt, the other fingers were following suit, and even more daring; my left hand was holding the bottle with my pee and the douche, and I was slowly following her, hindering her run to the john, because I hadn't raised my pants, and mom was occasionally leering at my genitalia.

In the john, everything went as per specs – while my mom was relieving herself, I was washing my hand, and then raised my panties and pants.

I knew she wasn't done – she needed another series of enemas to completely clean her butt, but I suggested to use the remaining pee to wash her buttocks (the taps were still dry), come home, have a shower and complete the treatment.

"What will your wife say?" she asked, and I answered, "Tonight's elsewhere."

"With your mutual friend Edna?"

"Of course."

"I'm afraid she's lesbian, isn't she?"

"Of course – but I prefer being cheated with a woman than with a man; he may get her pregnant, and STD's are harder to catch from a woman."

Mom stood still, I washed her, and then we went to my home, where she had a long awaited shower. Then it was my turn, but when I reached for my bathrobe, I only found my wife's.

"Mom, why did you take my bathrobe?" I asked her, and she replied, "Sorry, but your wife's couldn't cover my breasts. I had to take yours."

I knew that mom had big breasts, but it was the first time that I noticed that a 36L woman could dress a 48A male bathrobe; I couldn't wear my wife's, so I had to cover my nakedness with a towel, much to mom's amusement.

"Are you going to eat before your next enema?" I asked mom, and she answered, "No, better to finish the job."

In my home there was an enema bag, so it was easier and simpler to give her the enema; she bent over the bathtub wall, so her breasts slid out of the bathrobe and touched the bathtub floor, and I could see her still red and big nipples.

"Your breasts have gone out of the dress," I told her; she giggled, and replied, "You can see my pussy now. Why should I care?"

She even unlaced the bathrobe, asked me to remove it from her arms, and so I could put the nozzle into her anus while watching her fully naked (but still youthful) body. I had to wait for several minutes before the enema kicked in, and in the meantime we told each other bawdy jokes – when she felt that the giggle was getting painful, it was time to shit.

Once she relieved herself, she sat on a "bidet" (it was hard to find it, but I did) in order to thoroughly was her buttocks and private parts; and when it was time to wipe herself, she took the towel from my body, so we were in our birthday suit at last.

Mom's nipples were somewhat turgid, and even her labia were splitting open, but my penis was apparently flaccid – even though somewhat longer and larger than usual.

"No reaction?", mom asked, and I told her, embarrassed, "Mom, I'm your son. You're amazingly attractive, but I can't be aroused by you."

"Not even if I promise you to let you pee next time into my ass?"

It was a real blow under the belt – I felt the butterflies in my stomach, and the penis got really hard. Mom sat on my knees, grasped it, unsuccessfully tried to bend it, then drew it to her belly (and my scrotum touched her pubis), and concluded: "Your erectile deficit is not just caused by diabetes, son. A woman promising to fulfill your most secret fantasies may turn your cock into a mast!"

"Right, mom, but you needn't fulfill your promise," I told her while removing her hands from my genitalia, "you're done with the clinical tests."

"I've never broken a promise in my life, son – not to you."

I was really flush with lust and embarrassment, so I told mom, "Better to eat now."

"Ok," she told me, "But you should wash the enema nozzle first, and bring the kit to the kitchen."

"Why?"

"You'll learn there."

I complied, and when we were in the kitchen, mom opened the fridge and searched for a bottle of natural water.

"Sorry, mom, we only have carbonated drinks here. What are you using it for?"

"When you were a toddler, you drank enormous quantities of milk from my breasts – that's why they've grown so much; I once reckoned that you spent half your life awake latched at my bosom, and my hands were always bringing water to my mouth ..."

"Water ... enema bag ... are you telling me that you caught the habit of taking the water you needed while nursing in the ass and not per os - in the mouth?"

"Yes, so I could knit, write novels, sew, read, and the like, even while you were both nursing and arousing me."

"Arousing?"

"All nursing moms are aroused by their sucklings – obviously, they're supposed not to think about it, but I couldn't miss that you were too young to satisfy me. Then, I learnt and you learnt the way to suckle a woman into orgasm. Perhaps you still know that."

I couldn't resist kneeling down and latching to my mom's right nipple – her cooing confirmed that I had forgotten nothing. Then it was her left nipple's turn, and mom squealed – she definitely had her orgasms.

"It's a pity I couldn't give you any milk", mom said when I hugged her, but I looked at the fridge, and told her, "Perhaps you can give me some."

She understood what I meant when I opened a milk bottle and filled the enema bag with its milk – her pupils widened, the nipples became turgid, the breasts swollen, the mouth opened, but she covered it with a hand before telling me, "Ok. You can fill my bowels with milk."

So I put the towel she had taken from me on her chair, I hanged the enema bag full with a gallon of milk to the cupboard, asked mom to bend so I could easily put the nozzle into her anus, and put the valve into her hand, so she could regulate the milk flow.

When she was sitting, I readied the table and heated some food in the microwave oven – it wasn't a big dinner, but it was enough to pass the time until the bag emptied and mom's bowels were full.

Mom wanted to do the dishes, then she kneeled down, with the legs wide open, so I could lay on the floor, with my head between her feet and under her anus. When I began licking her twat and her asshole, she opened it and gently squirted the milk into my mouth.

When she was done, she laid procumbent on my body, took my penis into her mouth, so the nursing became a 69; she was going to make me come, but I always restrained myself until she came twice, then I told her, "Release it. Fulfill your promise!"

So she let me slip under her body, and bent her back in order to let me easily sodomize her – an easy feat, since her anus had been dilated by wide nozzles and occasional butt plugs along the years.

When my dick was into her butt, my bladder was really full, so I could easily pump my urine into mom's entrails – and she apparently liked my dick more than the metal nozzles she'd used for years.

Then I had to go to the toilet with her – while she was emptying her colon, I was puking the milk, as I am lactose intolerant, and if I didn't do that, I would regurgitate it for most of the night anyway.

Then we cleaned our teeth and had a shower together – mom asked me if I had another desire to fulfill, and I asked, "Are you menopausal?"

"Yes, for three years. Your wife doesn't take care of you, apparently."

After the douche, we went to bed together, and behaved like man and wife, not like mother and son.