Living in a rural area had many disadvantages over living in the city because there always seems like a lot of things to do in the city.

But one thing we who lived in the country do have is privacy. Living on a farm means a lot of wide open space, plenty of room to play when we were pre-teens, and plenty of room to roam when we got older.

I began dating Betty when we were in high school and we continued after high school, going to separate colleges but getting together as often as we could during the year.

During the summer, we would see each other almost every evening ... if she didn't visit our house, I would cut across the 80-acre field on the path that lead to their house. Her family's farm and ours was separated by just a wooded area.

We'd picnic in the woods, often making out, but never going so far that we would jeopardize each other. We even went skinny dipping in the river that ran through our properties. It was so secluded, hardly anyone ever went along the river.

After swimming, we'd usually stretch out on the grassy river bank to dry off. Sometimes I wondered how we could have dried off as we cuddled and smooched.

We would fondle each other, bringing ourselves beyond the peak of excitement. I usually exploding into the air as she squeezed my manhood. She would just shake with excitement as I massaged her womanhood. She often covered her mouth to muffled her scream as she climaxed.

One day we were talking about getting sick as children and what our parents would do to make us better.

"I got castor oil," I said. "That stuff is awful."

"My parents gave me enemas," she said. "Even this past winter, when I came home from college, ma said my cold would get better a lot faster if I was cleaned out.

"She got out the enema bag and gave me an enema right in the kitchen. I got a lot of them that way when I was in grade school and high school."

"What's an enema?" I asked.

Betty was surprised. "You never had an enema?" Then she went on the explain what it was and I commented on how awful those must be.

"Oh, I hated them when I was a kid, but they aren't so bad. The older I got, the better I felt about them. In fact, that one I got during semester break was the best feeling I ever got from one.

"There was something delightful about standing naked in the kitchen with my mother preparing the enema, then obeying as she said to bend over the kitchen table which was a little cold. I got a charge when my nipples touched the table. I really got turned on," Betty said.

"When she touched by anus with some petroleum jelly, it felt so good. And when she inserted the enema hose, I shivered," Betty said.

By this time, I was getting turned on as she described the feeling of two quarts of soapy water going into her bottom. When the bag was empty, she was told to hold it for a minute. To help her hold it, she sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

After a minute or two, she ran to the bathroom and emptied herself. She said when she returned to the kitchen, her mother had another enemas ready, this one to cleanse her. She did the same as before, leaned over the kitchen table, accepted the hose and the two quarts of clear water.

"It felt so good. It felt even better to romp through the house without any clothes on," Betty said. "I didn't want to tell mom how good that felt. We used to do it a lot as kids. Mom said if no one else was around, we could run around naked. Besides, it saved her doing extra laundry."

"Did you run naked while in high school?" I asked.

"Sure. What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, I guess. We just never were allowed to do that. In fact, until we went skinny dipping, I had never seen a girl naked," I said.

"You, with three sisters, never saw a girl naked. Didn't you play around as kids. Weren't you curious?"

"Oh sure, but we just never did. Ma would have killed us."

"Ma would have probably done the same to us, but we were careful," Betty said. "My brothers and I played in the barn, did little things, touched each other. It felt good."

By this time, we had almost gotten to Betty's place. The walk has gone so quickly.

"Come on in, no one's home," Betty said.

As we entered the kitchen, she asked, "So you never had an enema, right? Well, let's change all that right now," she said. "You get undressed, and I'll get the enema bag."

"Right here? What if someone comes home?"

"Don't worry. They won't be home for hours."

I obeyed as Betty went to the bathroom and retrieved the enema bag. "That's just a hot water bag," I said. "We've got one of those at home."

"Then you must have the enema equipment too," she said, showing me the hose and attachments.

Betty filled the bag with water from the kitchen tap, then put in a couple drops of Ivory soap. I watched as she screwed the hose into the top of the bag.

"Bend over the table," she said, slapping me on the butt as I obeyed.

She then took some of the petroleum jelly on her finger, spread my cheeks with one hand and pressed her finger on the edge of my hole, then slipped her finger into the hole. I jumped a little and my penis started getting hard.

Then I felt the nozzle against my backside and she shoved it in. It went in easily.

I heard a click and then suddenly I could feel the warm water going into by body. It was a good feeling but I started to get a cramp.

"I've had enough," I said.

"No you haven't. You've only taken a little. I'll shut if off for a second, then start it again," Betty said, seemingly enjoying my discomfort.

The cramp went away and the ominous click preceded the warm feeling into my body. I got more excited as the moments went on, almost exploding right on the kitchen table.

Within a couple minutes, the bag was empty and I was filled.

"How does that feel," Betty asked.

"Really different," I said. "But I've got to go."

She did not hold me back as I dashed the length of the house to the bathroom, exploding into the bathroom bowl. Never had I felt anything like that.

After a couple minutes, I felt cleaned out. As I was getting up, there was another urge, just as if there was more water in me yet. And there was.

About five minutes later, I returned to the kitchen where Betty had yet another bag of water.

"Not again," I said.

"Sure, I've got to clean the soap out of you. You're really be irritated if that soap isn't washed out."

So it was back onto the table, in with the hose, this time the full two quarts went in without stopping. Betty massaged by testicles as the water went in. Oh that felt so good.

I expelled the water without too much of a problem, returning to the kitchen where Betty as just finishing rinsing the bag.

"Hey, what's good for the gander is good for the goose," I said.

She looked somewhat surprised. "You want to give me an enema," she asked.

"Why not, you gave me one. It's only fair play."

So with that, she took the bag, handed it to me and said, "Fill it up .... not too hot, just warm to the touch."

As I was filling it up, I could see she was slipping out of her shorts, blouse, then her bra and underwear.

"Where do you want me," she asked.

"On that table?"

"I always fantasized about laying across my father's lap when I got an enema," Betty said. "Let me lay across your lap. Put the bag on the counter. If you put it too high, the water flows too fast. That hurts. "Sure," I said, pulling a chair up near the counter, then another on either side of me so Betty could be comfortable.

She positioned herself across my lap, then spread her legs slightly, exposing her womanhood to me just a bit. I dabbed some petroleum jelly onto her hole, and was about to shove in the nozzle when she said,

"You've got to push some of the jelly into the hole or it will hurt." I accepted the invitation, pressing my finger lightly, then forcing it into her, moving it around slight when she groaned.

"That's didn't hurt, did it," I asked.

"No," she laughed. "It feels perfect, just don't stop."

I continued for a few seconds, massaging until her hole was lubricated, then withdrew, taking the nozzle and pushing it gently into her. She accepted it easily.

I turned on the water. It flowed easily into her. She moved her body over my lap, causing my manhood to become even more aroused.

"Oh, that feels so good, so very good," she said. "I wish this would never stop."

I massaged her buns, letting my hand slip to her front just a bit. She lifted up a little, inviting me to massage her more and more. I could not believe how she was enjoying this ... and so was I.

Even when the whole bag was empty, she didn't say anything, just moaned as I massaged her clit, slipping my finger into her gently, then withdrawing it. After about five minutes, she said she had to go, but then said, "Don't forget, I need to be rinsed."

As she went into the bathroom, I filled the bag. It seemed forever until she returned.

"How would you like to lay on the kitchen counter for your rinse," I asked.

She hopped up on the counter, laid across where the double tub sink was and spread her legs, giving me plenty of room to reach under her. She enjoyed the second enema as much as the first.

"This is about as hot as I've ever seen you," I said.

"No, I'm a lot hotter," she said. "You don't know how hot I am." "I'll bet a couple ice cubes will cool you off when you get back," I said.

"You wouldn't dare," she said, almost challenging me as about half of the enema as already going into her.

"Want to bet," I said, reaching for the refrigerator door with its automatic cube dispenser. A couple fell into my hand. I quickly put them against her clit, causing her to scream with both surprise and delight.

"Remember, what's good for the goose, is good for the gander," she said.

"I remember."

With the last of the enema in her, she slid off the counter, almost before I could take the hose out of her.

"You just clean up the bag. I'll be right back," Betty said.

I barely got the bag cleaned up when she was back, grabbing a couple ice cubes and putting them against my backside, slipping one into my anus.

What a feeling.

A grabbed a couple cubes, turned her around, and did the same to her as she was facing the refrigerator. This gave her and opportunity to grab some ice. A quick turn and she put both hands, filled with ice, around my penis.

I thought I would die with ecstasy. Wow!

"I think I'm going to explode," I said.

"Let's not waste it," Betty responded. "You have a condom?"

"No," I said, showing the disappointment of the moment I had been waiting for.

"I do," she said, breaking into a grin. "A girl who wants to do it the right way is always prepared," she said, reaching under the dish towel on the counter. She opened the package and put the condom on my erect penis.

"Now," she said. "Right here. The kitchen floor is cool."

We got down on the floor. She was on her back as she raised up her legs, wrapping them around my waist while I positioned myself in her opening. Almost with one motion, as I pressed against her, she squeezed me with her legs. It was like I was pushing and she squeezing me into herself. I went into her with one motion.

It was unbelievable as we climaxed after about 30 seconds, first she, then me. We were a bundle of emotion.

As I withdrew from Betty, we both let out a simultaneous "Ahhhh." It was such a good feeling, a feeling we had never had before and one we were both sure we probably would never duplicate again. It was just a perfect afternoon.