My nurse came over last night and gave me an enema--first time in probably a year.
My wife was out of town for 48 hours, so I called the nurse last evening and she arrived at about 9:00 p.m. She's about 40, very cute and cheerful, and always smiling. We greeted each other with a very robust hug and a little kiss. She understands completely my absolute love for the enema, and she knows that my indulging in it is secret because my wife strongly disapproves.
I provided her with a 3-quart latex bag I had obtained several years ago from Kristina Amelong, and a bulbous flexi-green "tulip" nozzle. She confirmed that I like it quite warm, then proceeded with the task. I lay on my left side on the bed wearing a sweatshirt, with a bath towel under me. She made a protracted, very gentle insertion (Vaseline was the lube), eleciting a very loud sigh from me. The temperature was perfect, and it took much longer than usual for me to take the entire enema, but I did succeed in taking every last drop. I held on to her left bottom-cheek with my right nand throughout much of the procedure.
After two trips to complete a marvelously satisfactory expulsion, I relaxed on the bed and we chatted. I told her yet again that I wanted to give her an enema, but she isn't ready for that. I made her promise that if she ever decides she wants one, I will be the one to give it to her, and she laughingly agreed. She offered me a second one, but I had enough and was ready to go to sleep. We hugged and kissed once again, and she went downstairs and let herself out.
It's more than twelve hours later, and I'm still walking on air.