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The Adventures of Enema-Boy Ryan and Travis
Both Travis’s and my parents were away for the weekend, something they did each year. That left us home to ourselves and our summer jobs. As usual, he came over and we ate and played video games to pass the free time. He knew that our mutual friend, Bobby, and I did enemas together and while he sometimes watched, he was always skittish about them. He played the cool dude role; none of that ‘dirty stuff’ for him, just plain ole sex, not that he had been getting any recently.
As we played the usual games, sometime him winning and other times me, he started to make comments about digestion, farting, and going to the bathroom. Now I can ignore one or two comments, but Travis was going on more than usual.
“What are you, constipated or something?” I finally asked, kind of getting bored with his comments.
“What if I am? Are you going to give me an enema or something?”
So that was an interesting comment from good oleTravis, Mr. “No enema for me.”
“Maybe you want an enema?”
“Nawh, that’s for you and Bobby.”
“Yeah, he does like his enemas.”
We kept playing. I took the upper hand in the game, crushing him. Besides, I always knew I was better.
“Did you just fart?” I asked smelling something distinct and knowing it wasn’t me.
“Yeah, sorry.” We kept playing, taking beaks to drink our sodas and eat chips.
“Bobby really likes it when you give him an enema, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, he does get really hard.” So, I’m thinking to myself, what is all this talk from Travis about enemas.
So I started to think, why be shy. We had the house to ourselves the whole weekend, “So, do you want an enema?”
“No thanks.” Well, that was straightforward. But somehow, I didn’t think he was being totally truthful.
“I don’t know, I think you’re getting curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Yes, but I think you want an enema.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“What are you, chicken to try it?”
“I’ve thought about it”
“Well, we have the house to ourselves, why not try it tonight?”
“You want to give me an enema?”
“Sure, but I think it is really that you want me to give you one.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe, what? You a scared little boy?”
“No. But if I agree to take an enema, will you take one too?” Well, I’m never shy and always up for an enema.
“So you do want an enema?”
“Only if you agree to take one too.” So that, of course was a no-brainer for me. I loved enemas, all aspects of them, giving and receiving. And I don’t mind saying that while I loved sharing enemas with Bobby (he really got off on the scene), Travis was really hot and the thought of his cute bubble butt with an enema nozzle in it made me quite hard.
Travis and I were neighborhood friends for a long time. Our families were like surrogate families to each other. We went to school together, played together, at times our parents even thought of us as brothers. Travis was small for his age, but physically well developed, and did I mention his bubble butt. His blonde hair, in bangs, always lightened in the summer as his hairless skin tanned. Many a girl was drawn to him, though it was lost on him, a fact that only few of us were privileged to know about Travis. Our relationship had always been a fraternal one. Sure, we had played around a little, but at the end of the day, he and I were best friends. The third member of our group was Bobby. Bobby was a free spirit, always willing to give his opinion. You knew you were in for a good time when he was around.
“So should we go upstairs and get cleaned out?” We had stopped playing the game and the TV screen was blank. I looked at Travis. He had that deer in the headlights look to him. I got the feeling that he realized he may have gotten himself into something he really didn’t want to proceed with. “Come on, I think you might actually like getting an enema. And besides, even if you don’t, I know the thought of you giving me one is getting me hard.”
I got up and patted him on the shoulder, “Come on, let go upstairs.”
Travis got up. He had on his old camp T-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts and white socks. We went upstairs to my room.
I stood behind him, and grabbed him around his chest. I gently put my mouth by his ear, “Tonight, Travis is going to be the enemaboy.” I held him tightly. He didn’t move. I could tell he was processing what was going to be happening. I reached down to the bottom of his t-shirt reached in and gently rubbed his belly and chest, then began to pull it up and over his head. His chest was smooth with the outline of his musculature. Once off, I threw his t-shirt on my bed and took mine off too. I put my arms again around him. His body was warm and soft. He smelled good; he always wore the latest Abercrombie scent. I let my hands move over his chest. While not a super athlete, Travis was no slouch and had a nicely defined chest, hairless and tanned by the summer sun. I let my hands move down to his belly and gently rubbed it like the Buddha. “Are you going to let me clean you out down here? I think you’re going to like the warm enema water going in and filling you up.” I continued to move south and touched him though his pants. He was hard. I rubbed and he seemed to get even harder. “You’re going to like cumming when you’re full.” I figured a few words of encouragement couldn’t hurt. I reached around to the front button of his shorts and undid it and pulled down his zipper. His pants fell to the ground easily revealing his hard-on tenting his white shorts. I continued to rub it through his shorts. He seemed to like it. “You’re pretty turned-on, aren’t you?”
“Yeah” was all he could say. I rubbed his chest and belly, leaving his underpants in place. There would be time later to strip him of those. For now, a little uncertainty kept us piqued in the moment. “Let’s go get your enema ready.” Before going, I took off my pants, too, exposing my hard-on through my briefs.
We went into the hall bath. It was spacious enough for what we wanted to do. I brought my enema bag from its hiding place in my room. It had the larger green nozzle that always felt comfortable going in and its bulb helped keep it in. Travis had seen it before and knew the procedure having seen me give Bobby enemas in the past. Bobby and I played fairly regularly. We were friends together before Travis and his family had moved into the neighborhood. The three of us quickly became a threesome and were comfortable with each other. So the thought of Travis hanging out while I gave Bobby an enema or vice versa seemed comfortable for all.
I turned on the hot water faucet to let the water get warm, and then adjusted the cold faucet to make the perfect enema water mix, a little hotter than warm, but not too hot. After having given and gotten so many enemas, it seemed second nature to get the temperature right. Bobby and I had played around more innovatively and typically used soap and even other things, but I figured, this being Travis’s first enema, I should keep it simple. There would be time later to diversify.
I filled the enema bag to the brim, the typical 2 quarts. I hung it on the towel rack that seemed just at the right height for an enema bag to deliver its contents. I took the towel and opened it up on the floor. Travis just stood there watching, his clearly visible hard-on continuing to tent his white briefs. I approached him and put my hands on his shoulders and turned him around, then slowly worked my hand down to the waistband of his briefs slipping it inside and coming to rest on his cock. I stroked it gently. He let out a soft moan. “Are you going to be my enemaboy tonight?” I whispered into his ear. He closed his eyes and took in the moment. I let my other hand work its way down to his hips and then with both hands, pushed the elastic of his briefs over his hips letting them fall to his ankle and unleashing his cock which now stood at attention. I again took it in my hand and slowly stroked it. I was close to his body. I could feel the warmth of it.
I put my hand on his shoulder and gently exerted pressure pushing him down. He knelt down on the towel. I continued to exert light pressure on his shoulder to get him into position. He rested his elbows in front of him on the floor with his chest low, assuming the knee chest position, the one he had seen Bobby and I take our enemas. I rubbed his back up and down, and then shifted to his buttocks and around to his still hard cock. “Good boy” I whispered to him. “You’re going to get a nice enema that’s going to make you feel really good inside.”
I opened the Vaseline jar and with my index finger, took a generous glob on it. I gently spread his cheeks revealing his pink rosebud. I placed my finger on it and started to push. Travis was tight. “Come on, relax, you’re going to like it.” I pushed a little firmer and his hole didn’t have a choice but to let me in. I smoothed the Vaseline all around, moving my finger in and out, making sure to touch his prostate for added effect. I reached around to his penis and while stroking it massaged his prostate again. He arched up, “You like that, don’t you. Who says you’re not anal?
I then took the nozzle and spread the remainder of the Vaseline on it, wanting to make sure it slid smoothly into Travis’s boy hole. I opened the clamp and bled out the hose; no air to cause cramps. I pressed the nozzle tip against his now greased hole and with little effort the nozzle penetrated Travis’s anus and came to rest squarely in his rectum. I moved my hand to his back and gave it a quick rub, letting it work its way back to his cock and giving it the attention it yearned for.
“OK, are you ready?”
“If I say stop, you better stop.” He was worried.
“You’ve seen Bobby take his enemas, he doesn’t have a problem. You won’t either.”
“I don’t care, you better stop if I say so.”
“You’ll do fine, besides, you’re a big boy and can handle a big boy enema.”
Travis kept his head low. His face was covered by his thick blonde locks, but I clearly heard a “Yes.” I reached for the clamp and opened it. The room was quiet, so we both heard the metallic clip sound with, after a little delay, a few gurgle noises indicating the warm water was penetrating Travis’s colon. I took the nozzle in my hand and gently moved it in and out. “At a boy, you’re doing real well.” I could see his flexed leg and calf muscles tense and then relax as the enema water flowed into him. I reached around and gently stroked him making sure not to allow him to come too quickly and before he had taken the full bag. I further rubbed his back, now with both of my hands.
“How are you doing?”
“Good.”
You’re doing great. Relax and enjoy that warm feeling filling you up.”
The bag was easily half empty now. Travis was doing well. I kept him hard and enjoyed the closeness the two of us had in the bathroom. Being close to his naked body with an enema nozzle in his rectum was a real turn-on.
He began to breathe a little heavier. “Do you want me to stop the flow a little?”
“Yeah.”
“You're doing great. You’re taking it better than Bobby usually does. You know he is always complaining for me to stop and let him go.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling full. I’m going to try to take the whole bag. How much more do I have?
“Less than half the bag. You’re really doing great. Hang in there. Let restart it.” And with that, I opened the clamp and let him finish the bag. I could see him getting tense, so I continued to stroke him. As the bag emptied flat, I increased the pumping.
“OK, big boy, let me see you come and show me how much you like being filled with that enema.” He tensed and put his head down. His breathing got heavier.
“Let it go, let me see that load of man juice.”
“Oh, oh, oh.” His butt clenched the nozzle as he arched his back a bit and shot a huge load of thick sperm onto the towel. I kept pumping him until he almost went limp in my arms.
“Good boy. You did great!”
“I got to go.”
“Hold on. You’re OK. Just relax a minute.”
“No seriously, I got to shit.”
“OK,” And with that I unplugged him and he got up and shifted over to the toilet in time to let loose a torrent of enema water and the contents of his colon. I could see small beads of sweat on his body. Travis clearly had a work-out. He continued to intermittently shoot enema out. I sat on the edge of the tub, near him, occasionally rubbing his back.
After a while, he reached for the toilet paper and wiped himself, stopping to let out more until finally he was done. He got up, looked at the results in the toilet bowl (he really did need an enema) and flushed it. Rubbing his stomach (now thinner than it had already been), he had a smile on his handsome, almost cute face. His penis was now going back to its original shape. He looked like a proud camper.
Looking me straight in the eye, he then said,”OK, big boy, now it’s your turn.”
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