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The Next Door Neighbor

I stood at my kitchen window, watching in amusement as my new next door neighbor took out his garbage. It wasn’t the act of taking out his garbage that I found so stimulating, it was the way he was doing it. Tom was middle-aged and newly divorced and thus was learning all over again how to do things himself, kinda like watching a baby learn how to walk. For instance, he had obviously packed that ten gallon hefty bag with 45 gallons of trash and was dragging it along his driveway towards the curb. I began to count backwards...10,9,8....3,2,1.... Exactly on schedule that hefty bag ripped itself apart and threw its contents in all directions. I giggled as Tom held up the now empty and shredded bag and looked at it, he looked down at the contents strewn across his driveway, then back at the bag, trying to figure out what had happened.

Tom turned out to be a constant source of merriment for me. I can still remember the day he decided to do his own laundry. I had gone over shortly after he had moved in with a welcome basket (he was single, and nice looking) might as well get off to a good start. As I smiled and offered the little basket he grinned widely and told me with complete self assurance that he had finally figured out how to work the washing machine. I nodded at him and asked if he needed any help. He shook his head... “Oh, no thanks, I think I’ve got the hang of it”. “Well, let me know if you do”, I replied and retreated back to my house, never mentioning the soap suds that were flowing in a large tide from the open door of the kitchen.

It was several months later, when I took over his mail that had been dropped into my box by mistake, that I began to get concerned. I knocked on the door and was taken aback by his appearance. He was very pale and a little bent over. He did look as if he was in some pain. “Are you alright Tom, you look terrible, have you been to a doctor?”. I continued to pepper him with questions until he finally held up a hand and said... “I’ve been to a doctor, he gave me some pills to take”.

“Well, are they doing any good?”... I asked. “I’ve only taken one so far, the label says per anum, is it normal to take medicine only once a year?” he finally asked me.

My jaw dropped to the floor, but somehow I managed to ask in a serious tone... “Uhh.. That really depends, why don’t you show me what the doctor gave you”. Tom shuffled off then returned and handed me a box of laxative suppositories. I held them in my hand, almost afraid to ask the obvious. “Tom, exactly how do you take these?”. “With 2 Quarts of water”, he answered miserably, “I fill a pitcher with water, then drop the pill in, when it’s completely dissolved I drink it all down, although I never was able to finish the whole thing off”.

I stifled the loud guffaw that wanted to explode from my throat and asked Tom....

“You do know these are suppositories, and they are meant to be inserted anally, followed by 2 quarts of water...as in an enema?”

I reached out and took hold of Tom’s wrist, he had turned a deathly shade of gray at the mention of “anally” and had almost swooned as he heard the word “enema”. I was afraid he was going to pass out on the spot. I helped him stumble over to the couch. “Tom, these suppositories are usually given for patients who are constipated, is that you’re problem?”....

He didn’t answer me directly, but his groans told me all I needed to know. He obviously had taken the prescription the doctor had given him and unable to decipher the directions had simply tried to figure them out for himself. I suddenly had an image pop into my mind of Tom hunched over a large pitcher of water waiting for that waxy suppository to melt away so he could drink it down.

“Tom, I think I can make you feel a bit more comfortable, but you may find my methods rather embarrassing.... Do you want me to help you?”....

Tom rolled his eyes toward my direction as he grasped his stomach, he finally nodded yes and I helped him into the bedroom and began to undress him.....

Tom didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed as I began to strip his clothes off. I couldn’t really tell if it was because he was feeling so poorly or if it was that peculiar male hormone that told all men that they are simply drop dead gorgeous no matter what the physical evidence to the contrary. As an emergency room nurse, I have seen a wide variety of male physiques, and no matter how short and dumpy or bald and bole-legged, each male patient would stand before me wearing nothing but a wide grin and turn seductively in all directions so I could better take in their “wares”.

Tom, though, was really easy on the eyes. I helped him lay down on the bed and turn over onto his left side. He had one of the cutest butts I have ever seen. It actually had dimples! And it was nice and round, the way I like them, not one of those hard stringy butts that a lot of men have. I covered Tom with a blanket and told him to try and relax while I went next door to gather a few things I was going to need. He moaned in response and I left him.

I sprinted home and began filling a large shopping bag with a few “things”. I couldn’t find any latex gloves, so I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the roll of plastic wrap, along with a few other assorted items. I returned to my “patient”. He hadn’t moved an inch. In fact he was deathly still, I was about to reach out and feel for a pulse, when he suddenly let loose with a pathetic groan. I patted his blanket covered hip and told him to hold on, he’d be all right soon.

I decided to start off by taking his temperature. As I shook down the rectal thermometer and dipped it into the jar of vaseline Tom turned his head and asked in a shaky voice... “Where are you going to put that?”. I smiled my most maternal smile and simply pulled the blanket down to expose his bottom. I gently spread his cheeks apart and inserted the little glass rod into his rectum. The way he reacted you would have thought I had tried to drill a hole to China directly through his butt. But a good smack on his right cheek quickly calmed him down and he lay still while I waited for his temperature to register. Of course, his new demeanor may have been due to my rubbing his lower back, occasionally letting my hand ride softly over his right hip and down his leg.

I held the thermometer up to the light and noted the reading. It was normal, but the bulb end was covered with a brown smear. Tom was indeed plugged up... “Tom, you aren’t running a temp, I think you’re just suffering from a bad case of constipation, I’m going to give you a little rectal exam and take a look around...ok?”. Tom moaned pitifully and I noticed his buttocks began to spasm and clench together. “Don’t worry Tom, my fingers are small, you’ll barely feel them”, I said softly and whipped out my plastic wrap. When my newly manicured index finger was completely covered with saran I dipped it into the cool vaseline and brought it close to his virgin anus. “Hold still Tom, I’m going to slide my finger into you now”.

I pushed, Tom jerked and groaned, but soon my small index finger was deeply embedded into his rectum. I held still allowing Tom to get used to this invasion. At the same time I reached over his hip and lay my left hand next to his semi hard penis. At the feel of my touch, his semi-flaccid member flared into action and practically stood up to shake my hand. I slipped my left hand under his penis and it snuggled back down into my open palm and got comfortable.

“Ok Tom, I’m going to feel around your rectum a little, this won’t hurt a bit”, I whispered down to him. Tom groaned and squished his eyes shut, Tom’s penis nodded at me enthusiastically. I gave it a quick squeeze and it gushed a little precum in response.

I gently began to twist my finger in all directions, feeling only a hard mass firmly plugging up Tom’s works, no wonder he was feeling so bad. Tom continued to groan and inhale deeply as I moved my finger in and out and all about. Tom’s penis began to wag at me trying to get my attention, I ignored it. I finally pulled my finger free from his backdoor and stripped off my trusty saran wrap.

“Tom, you really are constipated. The first thing I’m going to do is inject some mineral oil into your rectum to loosen up the impaction”. I tried to sound cheery, but Tom didn’t seem to find my words very comforting. He turned his head and glowered at me... “How are you going to do that?”, he asked finally with a touch of fear in his voice. I reached into my grocery bag and pulled out my turkey baster and held it up for him to see. Tom dropped his head back down onto the pillow and moaned in despair. Tom’s penis stood up and took a look, then began to wag up and down excitedly.

I covered Tom and his penis once more with the blanket and went into the kitchen to warm up the mineral oil. When it was ready I popped off the rubber bulb of the turkey baster and pored the oil in, making sure to hold my finger over the opening of the long slender nozzle at the opposite end. I returned to Tom and pulled back the blanket being careful to hold up my turkey baster so it contents wouldn’t drip out. Tom’s penis stood up and waved at me, I winked at it and it responded with a little shudder. “Ok Tom, hold still now while I do this”, I said and pulled his right cheek up and slid the long, slender nozzle into his bottom. “OOHH, OOOH NO!!”, he began to chant over and over as I squeezed in the warm oil. Tom’s penis simply drooled quietly on itself.

“Tom, I want you to try and hold that in for a few minutes so it can work”, I said as I removed the turkey baster and pushed a wad of tissues next to his anus and pressed it into place before releasing his right cheek. Tom squeezed his cheeks together and valiantly tried to concentrate. His brow furrowed and little beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Tom’s penis simply collapsed in exhaustion. I had a feeling it would make another appearance soon, as fresh as a daisy. A few minutes later, realizing he was loosing the battle, Tom flung the blanket to the side and dashed to the bathroom, holding his buttocks tightly closed with his hands.

While Tom was occupied in the bathroom, I went back to the kitchen and began to fill my enema bag with warm water. Although the mineral oil would help soften up most of the impaction and give Tom a little bit of relief, the enema was needed to finish the job. I returned to the bedroom and hung up the enema bag on the top rung of the headboard. Tom had one of those elegant brass beds with a tall ornate headboard. I wondered how much it cost and if Tom was interested in selling it.

As I was admiring the shiny brass, Tom returned looking a bit sheepish, but also a bit more comfortable, a small towel was wrapped around his waist. He looked at the enema bag hanging down and hesitated.... “I don’t think I’m going to need that now, I feel a lot better.... Really!”.

Having heard that line many times before I simply answered.... “And you’ll feel a lot better afterwards, now get back on the bed, this time on your hands and knees please”. I squared my shoulders and pulled myself up to my full 5’2”. Tom, obviously intimidated by my amazonian size, quietly mounted the bed and positioned himself as I had instructed. I pushed down on the back of his neck... “Get down on your elbows and put your head down Tom”, I commanded. Tom sighed loudly but complied with my demand. I went behind him and pulled the towel off. Tom moaned. I pushed his knees farther apart, exposing his anus. Tom moaned louder. I glanced down between his legs and came face to face with Tom’s penis. It was hanging upside down, but still managed to wave at me. I reached out and gently ran a finger down the length of it’s body. It convulsed slightly and drooled.

I took hold of the enema nozzle, it was a long, hard, black plastic jobby, with a rounded tip, my favorite. I pressed it up against Tom’s anus... “Tom, take a really deep breath then exhale”, I instructed. As Tom exhaled his tight little anus loosened up and I pushed the enema nozzle deep into his rectum. “UUGGGHHHH”, Tom cried out as the nozzle went in about 6 inches. I began to rub Tom’s lower back until he began to relax. Tom eventually laid his head back down and I reached over for the clamp on the hose. “Ok Tom, you’re going to feel the water begin to enter you now, I’ll go slow, and stop after a few minutes to let you adjust to the feel of it, but I want you to hold still”. Tom responded in a squeaky voice... “Ok”.

I unclamped the hose and watched the hose stiffen as the warm water flowed down and into his bottom. Tom began to groan loudly as he felt the first warm tidal wave, but he didn’t move. When about a quarter of the bag had emptied I closed the clamp and reached under Tom and began to gently massage his belly, Tom’s penis brushed up against my hand hopefully.

After letting Tom rest for a few minutes I reached up and unclamped the hose again until the bag was half empty. This time when I reached underneath him to massage his belly, Tom’s penis actually bumped into my hand, demanding attention. I swatted it gently then reached again for the clamp. When the bag was almost empty I closed the clamp once again.

Tom by now, was moaning and squirming about, the enema hose swayed to and fro as his bottom wagged back and forth, desperately trying to hold in the enema water. I dipped my right index finger into the jar of vaseline and began to spread the greasy lube into my left palm.

“Ok Tom, almost finished, just a little bit more”, I calmly called out as I reached up and unclamped the hose for the last time. I quickly reached down and grasped Tom’s penis tightly as the last of the warm water began it’s descent. Tom’s penis swelled as I grasped it until I could have sworn I held a thick iron bar in my hand. I began to gently pump it slowly up and down. Just as the enema bag gurgled empty, Tom’s penis exploded and spewed it’s contents all over my hand, then collapsed. Tom groaned loudly and his knees gave out, he collapsed flat onto the bed, my hand still trapped underneath him.

Several minutes later Tom jumped from the bed and ran for the bathroom. While he relieved himself I began gathering my things. As I was busy cleaning my enema bag in his kitchen, Tom snuck up behind me and pulled the bag from my hand and began to fill it to the brim with warm water.

“Do you want me to give you another enema Tom?”, I asked as he let a little water flow out of the hose before clamping it.

“No, this enema’s for you Linda”, he stated calmly as he clamped the hose and took my hand before leading me back to his bedroom......

Submitted by Linda Roberts <lmratsfo@earthlink.net>