The first time I had anal sex I was shocked. One, what was I doing with the guy I was with? And two, what was he doing with me? He lived in the upstairs apartment of his family home. He was the son of a cop. I was the daughter of a cop. I had gone home with him because I thought he was sexy. There were fist holes in his bedroom wall. We had conventional sex at first, and then he pushed the head of his penis into my virgin anus. I squeezed my eyes tight and let him enter me, endlessly. When I went to the bathroom later, it hurt, and nothing came out, not even blood. While it was happening, I thought that fighting back might not be the best idea, so I didn’t. He had his way with me. The worst of it was, he shared his sexual exploits on the telephone with his friends while I was trying to clean up the next morning. I did not have any unwanted anal encounters after that. After that instance, I always controlled things, allowed and sometimes even persuaded the right sized penises to enter my anus. Still, I felt dirty and wrong about wanting anal.

Until years later, when I went for a high colonic at a doctor’s office in Chicago. There, I felt water rushing into me in a fluid motion, and flowing out of me through a clear tube that showed me what was coming out of my body. It was amazing – the doctor (holistic, entirely) told me what to look out for, what was coming out of my body, what it all meant. He told me I had hypothyroid and should only eat Caesar salads from then on. I took his advice for about two months and then slipped into my old patterns of behavior.

A month ago a delivery man came in with a meat order. I am a prep cook at an upscale restaurant in a mid-American city. He said that he needed to flush his system, and that he would use a coffee enema to do it. I wasn’t particularly shocked. This particular delivery driver was prone to giving TMI on a regular basis. But something he said about it was intriguing: You can lose weight this way. It will make your skin better; your eyes shine brighter, the luster of your hair will improve. It will speed up your metabolism.

I entertained thoughts of losing weight through enemas for several weeks, and finally broke down last weekend. I went back online and researched the benefits and the recipes of the coffee enema. I went to the local pharmacist and purchased a combination douche, enema, and water bottle. And I proceeded to take the meat man’s advice.

I began by using up the last four tablespoons of espresso style coffee I had in house. I put five cups of water to boil with the remainder of coffee, let it boil for three minutes, and then simmer for fifteen additional minutes as instructed by the site I had visited. I diluted the water with a half portion of cold water from the tap.

Into my new red water bottle, I administered the coffee serum. I hadn’t quite mastered the art of the squeeze clamp, so I squirted the first cup of coffee/water serum right onto my closet floor, but after that I found a way to clench the tube. I lubed the tip with olive oil, as directed by the website, lied down on my back, and opened the clamp to allow the coffee solution to enter my body. I held it in as long as I could and when I was ready, expelled. A seemingly astronomical amount of fecal matter left my body, with a liberal dosing of coffee. It was amazing. I flushed, and flushed again. I still had more to let go of. I looked down and aliens were exiting my buttocks.

I went down for another dousing of enema water. I did it lying on my back, holding it in for as long as I could. I expelled, again, into my household toilet. I was amazed that nothing overflowed, as so much appeared to be leaving me.

The feeling of an enema filling you is like no other. I’ve taken cocks into my ass, I have. But the sensation of water filling you is very different. It’s kind of gentle, and painful at the same time. I remember lying there thinking, “You’ve taken more than this in flesh form and you can handle this. Stay cool.”

I remember a cock not being able to fill me in quite this way at all. In fact, I remember nothing about anal sex that is as pleasant as the slow, steady flushing motion of water filling your asshole. I can remember nothing so tender and loving as liquid flowing in. Mind you, I alone controlled the flow of fluids into my bowels during my first enema, and my second, and my third. When a cock rushes into that orifice, it’s a lot less forgiving. But every time I’ve had anal sex after that first time with the fist punching wall bastard, it’s been gentle, and guided by my own discretion. I’ve always chosen a cock size just right for plunging into my rectal depths. And every time after that first anal rape that I suffered, I’ve made it a point to stimulate my clit while being entered anally by a rock hard but exactly right sized penis.

None of that, however, measures up to what I feel when the crimp in the tube is loosened and the water starts filling my bowel chambers during an enema. I get so turned on by it that I cannot see straight. I hold it in, and hold it in for the prescribed length of time, ten minutes or fifteen. Then I position my buttocks over the toilet and forcefully expel. I feel in that moment the fullness of being, letting go of all that pent up liquid. I feel full, but not with the sawing essence of a hard cock… though I enjoy that immensely….

With enemas I feel clean and dirty at the same time. It’s filling, intense, and wonderful. One day, in the near future, I would like to have an enema and then a good solid ass fucking from the right guy.

I mean that.