Landlady's Healing Enema

Andre lay curled on the narrow bed in his rented room, knees drawn up, both hands pressed hard against his lower belly. Another cramp seized him and he groaned into the pillow, the sound muffled and miserable. Nineteen years old, he was small-boned and slight, barely five-foot-six, with narrow hips and a timid posture that made him look even younger when he hunched. His dark hair stuck to his damp forehead. The pain had started after lunch and only gotten worse, sharp and twisting, leaving him sweaty and embarrassed in the little upstairs room he rented from the landlady.

Footsteps came up the hall. A knock, then the door opened without waiting.

“Andre? I heard you clear down in the kitchen.” Elise filled the doorway, fifty-two, broad-hipped and heavy-breasted, her low-cut blouse stretched tight across the full swell of her chest so the top buttons gaped and deep cleavage showed. The fabric strained with every breath. Her skirt clung to thick thighs. She smelled like soap and warm skin. “You sound awful, honey. What’s wrong?”

He tried to sit up and failed, face flushing. “Stomach. Cramps. Real bad, Miss Elise. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Hush.” She crossed the room, the floorboards creaking under her weight, and sat on the edge of the bed. One large hand settled on his shoulder, warm and steady. The other brushed his hair back. Up close her breasts looked even bigger, soft and heavy, the blouse barely containing them. “You’ve been moaning for twenty minutes. I know what helps. An old remedy. Warm soapy water, a proper enema. Clears everything out, eases the cramps better than any pill. I’ll do it for you.”

His eyes went wide. Heat rushed up his neck. “An… enema? I—I don’t… that’s… I mean, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Her voice stayed low and calm, almost soothing, but there was something firm underneath. “You’re hurting. I’ve given them before. You’ll feel so much better after. All you have to do is let me. Can you do that, Andre? Say yes if you want the relief.”

He stared at the open neck of her blouse, at the soft shadowed valley between those massive breasts, then looked away, stammering. “I… yeah. Okay. If you think… I just want it to stop hurting. Please.”

“Good boy.” She squeezed his shoulder once, then stood. “Come with me. My bathroom’s private. We’ll take care of you properly.”

He followed her down the hall on unsteady legs, one arm still wrapped around his middle. Every step made the cramps flare. Elise’s hips swayed ahead of him, the skirt riding a little over the full curve of her ass. She unlocked a door at the end of the corridor and led him into a bathroom larger than his whole room—white tile, a deep tub, a closed toilet, and a padded bench already draped with a folded towel. The air smelled faintly of lavender.

“Sit there a minute while I get everything ready,” she said, nodding at the closed lid of the toilet. She moved with unhurried confidence, filling a rubber bag at the sink with warm water, testing the temperature on her wrist, then stirring in a measured spoon of mild soap until it foamed lightly. She hung the bag from a hook, coiled the clear tube, and set out a bottle of lubricant and a small towel. The whole time her blouse pulled and shifted, the heavy undersides of her breasts visible whenever she leaned. Andre watched, throat dry, the pain still there but now tangled with a strange, hot awareness of her body and of what she was about to do to him.

“The water’s just warm,” she explained, voice dropping into something softer, almost sultry. “Not hot. The soap is gentle. It’ll loosen everything inside you and the warmth will soothe the cramps while it works. I’ll go slow. You’ll tell me if anything feels wrong, but it won’t. Most men find it… surprisingly nice once they relax.”

His cock twitched hard inside his thin pajama pants. He shifted, trying to hide it, but the fabric tented anyway. Elise glanced over, saw the obvious ridge, and a small knowing smile curved her mouth. She didn’t look away.

“Already?” she murmured. “From just watching me mix it?”

Andre’s face burned. He nodded, unable to meet her eyes, then forced the words out in a rush. “It’s… I don’t know. You’re being so… in charge. Taking care of me like this. And your… your body. It’s making me hard. I’m sorry. I can’t help it. It feels wrong and good at the same time.”

She set the lubricant down and turned fully toward him, one hand resting on the swell of her own hip. “Nothing wrong with it, honey. I noticed. I like that you noticed me. If you want this to stay only medical, we stop the flirting right now and I just give you the enema. If you want it to be more—if you want my hands on you while I fill you—then say so. I’m not shy. Are you?”

He swallowed, cock throbbing visibly now, a damp spot already forming at the tip through the cotton. The cramps pulsed, but so did the ache in his groin. “More,” he whispered. “Please. I want… both. I want you to do it and I want it to feel sexual. I consent. I really do.”

“Then we will.” She stepped closer, cupped his flushed cheek with one warm palm, and brushed her thumb across his lower lip. “Strip for me. Everything off. Then kneel on that towel on the floor, chest down, ass up high. I’m going to take very good care of this tight little body.”

Andre stood on shaky legs and peeled off the T-shirt, then shoved the pajama pants and briefs down together. His cock sprang free, slender and fully hard, flushed dark at the head, already leaking. He was petite everywhere—narrow waist, small tight ass, smooth skin—and the erection looked almost too big for his frame. He knelt quickly on the folded towel, lowered his chest, and raised his hips, presenting himself. The cool air touched his exposed hole. He hid his face against his folded arms, breathing fast.

Elise’s hands were warm and sure. She smoothed lubricant over the slim nozzle, then over his rim, circling slowly until the muscle fluttered. “Breathe out,” she said, and pressed the tip against him. It slid in an inch, then another, stretching him open with steady pressure. He whimpered. She didn’t stop until the nozzle was seated deep, the flange snug against his cheeks. One of her hands stayed there, holding it; the other reached under him and wrapped around his cock, stroking once from base to tip, slick with his own precum.

“There. Nice and deep.” She opened the clamp. Warm soapy water began to flow, a slow steady rush that spread heat through his bowels. Andre moaned, the sound high and broken. The fullness grew quickly—first a pleasant warmth low in his belly, then a heavier pressure that pushed against the cramps and somehow soothed them even as it stretched him from the inside. Elise kept stroking his cock in long, firm pulls, thumb swirling over the wet head every few strokes. Her heavy breasts brushed his lower back whenever she leaned in; he could feel the soft weight of them through the thin blouse.

“That’s it,” she crooned. “Take it. Let it fill you. Look how hard you are for me. Such a good, needy boy.”

The bag emptied in a long, relentless pour. By the time the flow slowed he was panting, belly slightly rounded, the pressure intense and erotic, every cramp drowned under the warm liquid weight. Elise closed the clamp but left the nozzle buried. Her free hand slid lower, two fingers finding the spot just behind his balls and rubbing firm circles while she continued to jerk him. Then she eased one slick finger alongside the nozzle, pressing inward until she found the swollen gland of his prostate and stroked it directly.

Andre cried out. His cock jerked in her fist. She worked him ruthlessly—prostate massage in steady pulses, hand flying on his shaft, the nozzle still plugging him full. The dual sensation overloaded him. His thighs shook. “Elise—I’m—gonna—”

“Come,” she ordered, voice husky. “Come while you’re full of my enema. Soak the towel. Do it now.”

He did. The orgasm hit hard, ripping through him in thick pulses. Cum striped the towel in heavy ropes while his ass clenched around the nozzle and her finger, milking both. He whimpered and shuddered, hips bucking helplessly, until he was spent and trembling, still plugged, still achingly full, the warm solution sloshing inside him with every aftershock.

Elise eased her finger out, then the nozzle, careful and slow. A little fluid welled at his rim before he clenched. She wiped him gently with a warm cloth, then helped him stand. “Bathroom’s yours. Expel it all. Clean yourself up. I’ll be waiting in my bedroom when you’re done. Don’t take too long—I want to see how grateful that pretty mouth of yours can be.”

He nodded, dazed and glowing with relief already, the worst of the cramps gone, replaced by a loose, empty ache and the memory of her hands. He closed the door, sat, and let the enema rush out of him in a long, shuddering release, moaning at the strange pleasure of emptying. When he was clean and steady again he pulled his pants back on and walked down the short hall to her room.

Elise sat on the edge of the wide bed, blouse fully unbuttoned and hanging open. Her massive breasts spilled free, heavy and soft, dark nipples already tight. She spread her thick thighs a little and crooked a finger.

Andre crossed to her at once and dropped to his knees between them, burying his face in the deep, warm valley of her cleavage. He mouthed and sucked at the soft flesh, greedy, while her hands tangled in his hair and pulled him harder against her. She tugged his head to one nipple; he latched on and sucked hard, tongue flicking, while his own hand shoved between her legs under the skirt and found her already wet panties. He rubbed her through the cotton, then pushed the fabric aside and slid two fingers into her slick cunt, fucking them in and out while he nursed.

“Filthy boy,” she groaned, grinding on his hand. “You loved every inch of that nozzle in your ass, didn’t you? Loved coming with your guts full of my soapy water. Next time I’m going to make you hold it longer while I ride your face, then watch you leak it all over my sheets while you beg me to plug you again. Stick your tongue out and lick my clit right now—show me how bad you want another enema, you desperate little slut.”

He obeyed at once, dragging his tongue up her soaked slit and latching onto her clit, sucking and flicking while his fingers curled inside her, and she came with a low filthy moan, flooding his mouth as she held his face buried between her massive tits and told him exactly how she was going to fill his tight asshole again before the night was over.