


                                RANDI
                                 "D"



This story includes situations of an adult nature that
may not be appropriate for all readers.

Please note that all characters and situations are fictional and
provided solely for the enjoyment of readers.

Any resemblence to
real persons is coincidence and strictly in the mind of the beholder.


=======================================================================================

Synopsis: On-line and real-life identies collide as Randi discovers the enema guru 
with whom she's been chatting turns out to be the same young man she met at a pool 
party. He discovers that there's more to her than meets the eye, also. 50% enemas, 
50% romance and 50% science-fiction (yes the whole IS more than the sum of the parts).

=======================================================================================


Part I

Some neighbors had invited a number over for barbeque and the ususal one  third-of-July 
sunday. I was strolling along the deck of the pool watching some kids splash. 
The rest of the adults were preoccupied with talk and drinking, snacks and drinking, 
food prep and drinking...    

One little girl was sitting on an inflatable raft.  She  was a cute girl, blond 
and about four years old. The raft had drifted toward the  deep end of the pool. 
She was oblivious and having a great time  dangling her feet into the water 
and splashing. It looked to me like trouble  brewing.  

Sure enough, she leaned over and went into the pool. Her  head went under the 
water and she started drifting, slowly toward the bottom.  Luckily it happened 
near enough to the edge that I could kneel down, grab her by  the armpit and 
fish her out of the water.  

No sooner had I set her onto the pool apron when a woman sprinted toward  her. 
She scooped up the girl, held her and tried to calm her. Once she was  assured 
the girl was suffering no harm from, she sent her  into the house to put on 
dry clothes. The girl scooted into the house.  

"Thank you," the woman said to me. "I didn't want to make too big of a deal 
of it."  

"Not a problem,"  I replied. I took in her appearance. She was in her late twenties. 
Her face was round, she had thick, straight chestnut hair that fell to her shoulder 
blades,  and pale skin with a dusting of freckles on her shoulders and the bridge 
of her turned-up nose.  Her eyes were her most striking feature. They were clear 
and blue, the deepest blue  I had ever seen. "I have a daughter a few years 
older than yours. I can see  where yours gets her blue eyes..."  

"She's not mine," the woman replied. "She's my niece."  

"Blue eyes must run in your family. What's her name?"  

"Kitty... My name's Randi ... with an I."  

"I suppose you learned early on not to introduce yourself by saying, 'Hi. I'm 
Randi.'"  

"You're not the first guy to make that remark..."  

"I'm Nick."  

"...Nick."  

I nodded toward the pool. "Seems you and I are  on lifeguard duty. I'll tell 
you, Kitty was lucky she fell in  near the edge of  the pool. I'm not a very 
strong swimmer myself. Let's sit and watch the kids.  I'll get you a drink." 

"Some diet Coke."   

"Not a drinker?" I asked.  

"Not today. I'm the designated driver. Lucille and Grant ... Kitty's  folks 
... tend to end up a little under the weather at one of these affairs."  

I nodded and headed toward the beverage cooler. I returned with her soda  and 
a Sharp's for myself.   

"You're not a drinker, either?" she asked.  

"No. I have a heart condition and alcohol bothers it."  

"You don't look old enough to have a heart condition. I hope it's  nothing serious." 

"It's a congenital thing," I replied. "It's more a nuisance than  anything serious 
or dangerous. I've learned not to aggravate it."   

I popped open the can of soda, handed it to her and opened my Sharp's.  Randi 
held up her can and tapped it to mine. "Skumps," she said and took a swig.  

"Where did you get that word?" I asked.  

"It's from a movie..."  

"Yes -- Disney's Sleeping Beauty. Are you a film freak or  something?"  

"No. I babysit Kitty and she watches it. It's her favorite. Skumps is a  pet 
word between us. How do you know it?"  

"At one time I wanted to be an animator," I replied. "I studied all the  classics." 

"You decided not to?"  

"Way too much work. Skumps!" I sipped from my can.  

"Where's your daughter?" Randi asked.  

"With her mom ... on the other side of the country. We're divorced."   

"I'm sorry..."   

"It's not your fault." I sipped my Sharp's. "I miss her... My daughter,  that 
is. Actually, being divorced agrees with me."  

We sat and chatted until the burgers were done, then we chatted some  more. 
Dusk began to settle and the party was starting to break up.   

"Duty calls," Randi said and went to help Kitty's very tipsy parents  into their 
minivan. She rounded up her niece and buckled her into her booster  seat. She 
turned to me. "Thanks again."   

"Wait," I said. "How about I take you to see the fireworks tomorrow  night?" 

Randi rolled her eyes. "I'd love to but I can't. You see I have an early  morning 
flight the next day."   

"Business?"  

"Sort of. I have an audition at the Metropolitan Opera in New York."  

"Really?"  

"Yes ... I went to a field audition here in town and they asked me to  come 
sing for them in New York. If it works out..."  

"You'll be moving to New York."  

"Yeah..."  

"Well, good luck."  

Randi sat behind the wheel and the minivan took off down the street.   And, 
I had received the kiss-off. It wasn't the first time, and I was sure it wasn't 
going to be the last.  Audition at  the Met, indeed. At least it had the distinction 
of being both original AND  ludicrous.   
                              ====================
  

I went home, sat behind my laptop and reviewed the posts that had been  submitted 
for the day. I'm a moderator for the enema discussion board on an  alternative 
health website and it's my job to separate the wheat from the chaff.  I sat 
there, killing SPAM messages when a popup alerted me of an Instant Message. 
It was from NuBee. I opened my IM client.  

Nozzie[me]: Hi  

NuBee: hi how was ur day  

Nozzie: Don't ask.  

NuBee was my virtual almost-enemate. I met her on line after she had  posted 
a message -- a single white female looking for a local guru to coach her  through 
her first enema.   

I had done that sort of thing online before. I remember coaching a young woman 
over Instant Messaging. She had sent me her photograph afterwards. Of course, 
when you're on line you never know for sure if what's on the other end of the 
circuit is the real deal, and I'm a trusting sort of guy. But you never know. 
It might've been some sweaty fat guy in a wifebeater.  

I had a good feeling about NuBee and volunteered some advice. NuBee had  more 
questions and I had answers. That was two months ago, and she still hadn't  
taken her first enema.  

I got the distinct impression she was stalling. She kept insisting this  was 
something she wanted to do, but simply lacked the courage to try it. Tonight 
would be the same I figured -- she'd say she was ready and then find an excuse. 
And, I was right.  

NuBee: i think im ready  

Nozzie: How many times have you been ready?  

NuBee: i mean really ready but  

There was always a "but..." To be honest, I was beginning to tire of  her two-steps-forward, 
one-step-back routine. I was about to throw  in the towel when she dropped a 
bomb on me.  

Nozzie: But what?  

NuBee: i want u with me.  

Nozzie: WHAT???  

NuBee: i want u with me when i take the enema  

NuBee: god my heart is pounding i dont believe i had the nerve to ask  u  

NuBee: would u? please?  

Nozzie: Do you want me to give you the enema???  I don't do that sort  of thing. 

NuBee: no just watch over my shoulder  

NuBee: its the real reason ive been dragging my feet  

NuBee: i wanted time to get comfortable enough to ask u  

Nozzie: We don't know anything about each other.  

NuBee: i know im comfortable with u  

NuBee: ill tell u about me  

NuBee: im a single female  

Nozzie: I knew that.  

NuBee: how did u know?  

Nozzie: From your IMs and emails.  

Nozzie: They're too diffuse to be from a man.  

NuBee: what do u mean?  

Nozzie: Your thoughts are too diffuse.  

Nozzie: Men zero in on a topic like a laser  

Nozzie: while women surround it like a fog.  

NuBee: u could tell im a woman from that?  

Nozzie: That and your original post said "single white female  seeks..."  

NuBee: hahaha  

NuBee: bet u cant know this  

NuBee: im five-foot eight and  

NuBee: most folks think im kinda pretty  

NuBee: so now u know me  

Nozzie: How old are you?  

NuBee: dont u know better than to ask a gal that?  

Nozzie: Are you 18?  

NuBee: dont worry im legal. ive been legal for a few years  

NuBee: so will u come help me?  

Nozzie: I have never done anything like that before.  

NuBee: u think i have?  

NuBee: u didnt tell me about u  

Nozzie: Okay ... I'm a guy, single, also legal for a few years  

Nozzie: probably a few more than you  

Nozzie: and most folks think I'm kinda nerdy.  

NuBee: just my type :)  will u help me?  

NuBee: god im nervous my hands are shaking  

Nozzie: Why do you want me with you?  

NuBee: to make sure i do it right  

Nozzie: I sent you directions 

Nozzie: and the kit has an instruction sheet, too.  

NuBee: its complicated  

Nozzie: Maybe we should sit and talk face-to-face first.  

NuBee: good idea  

Nozzie: Your place or mine?  

NuBee: u know the starbucks on eight and grand?  

Nozzie: Yeah  

NuBee: its near my apartment  

Nozzie: OK  

NuBee: meet me there in half an hour  

Nozzie: How will I know you?  

NuBee: im wearing a green dress and ill have my ponytail in a black  scrunchie 

Nozzie: Black scrunchie, got it.

                              ====================

I arrived at the Starbucks  and surveyed the tables. Sitting with her back to 
the bar was a woman in a green  sundress. Her chestnut ponytail was in a black 
scrunchie.   

I walked around the table to face her. "Nubee?" I asked; then I looked  into 
her round face and recognized the brilliant blue eyes. "Randi!"  

"Nick! Oh, my GOD!" She put her hand over her mouth, stood and ran out  of the 
coffee shop.   

I was stunned. I headed out of the shop and looked up and down the street -- 
no sign of her. I got back in my car and drove home.  I let myself in, sat at 
my  laptop and started looking over the IM logs and email threads I had exchanged 
with NuBee.  

I found the exchange in which I asked her why she wanted to try enemas.  She 
replied that she found our site by accident; and she had tried some other  alternative 
health things. She read the posts on our site and was intrigued.  

Then, there was the time she was working up enough nerve to go out and  buy 
an enema kit. I read the IM log:  

NuBee: i almost did it today   

NuBee: i went into the drugstore and to the aisle where they keep em.  i stared 
at it on the shelf, then picked it up and read the box  

Nozzie:  Then what?  

NuBee:  i put it back  

NuBee:  i cant i just cant  

Nozzie: You can't pull the trigger  

NuBee: right i cant pull the trigger  

NuBee:  im afraid the clerk will know what im gonna do with it  

Nozzie: It's none of his business. Whether you use it for enemas, for  douching 
or for filling water balloons, it's none of his business.  

NuBee: haha water balloons   

NuBee: i suppose youre right...  

Finally, I ended up scanning an old prescription, obliterating my name  and 
replacing the original order with Bowel Prep 2. This I scanned and sent to  
her to print and take to the pharmacist. I explained the Prep 2 kit included 
a  plastic enema bag, along with other stuff she could discard. I knew it was 
illegal to forge a prescription but I didn't think I'd get in serious trouble 
for using  a prescription blank for something over the counter. This way it 
would look like  doctor's orders and take away some of her embarrassment.  

Then, a couple of days ago came the news she had taken the plunge:  

NuBee: i bought it i really bought it  

Nozzie: Did you open the kit?  

NuBee: not yet   

NuBee: im one step closer tho  

I felt a connection with NuBee. She had a vulnerability that came  through when 
we talked on line. But, tonight she ran from me like a scared  rabbit. I couldn't 
figure out what I had done to frighten her, and I needed to  know.  

I started an email. I realized it might be my only chance, so I had  better 
make it count:  

Dear Nubee; dear Randi,  

I don't know what I did to scare you off, but whatever it was I'm sorry.  I 
wish we could talk about it. I care about you, Nubee.  I was going through our 
emails and IM logs. I hate to think of our rapport being damaged by some  misunderstanding 
or other. Please email me or IM me or better yet call me so we  can discuss 
this.  

I closed the note with my phone number; then I added a post script:  

PS: Nubee, I respect you. This is the last communication you'll  receive from 
me until you contact me. I won't IM you, I won't email you and I  won't stalk 
you. You set the pace and I'll wait for you. If I have to wait  forever, so 
be it. --N.  

I sent the message and sat, staring at the screen. An hour went by. Then  another. 
I was getting discouraged, so I switched off my laptop and started  getting 
ready for bed.  

The phone rang. I looked at the display -- the caller ID number had been  blocked. 
I answered the phone.  

"Nick? It's Randi."   

"Randi, thanks for calling. Promise me you won't hang up on me."  

"I won't."  

"Good. I want to talk this through. Look -- whatever it was I'm  sorry..."  

"It's not you -- it's me, it's my problem."  

"What problem?"  

She sighed. "Did you ever order some chicken wings only to discover they  weren't 
fully cooked and you ended up with food poisoning and spent two days  puking 
your guts out?"  

"I can't say I have."  

"Well, it happened to me and now I can't eat chicken wings. I used to  love 
chicken wings but now the sight of them turns my stomach.  The same thing  happened 
with my last boyfriend."  

"Your boyfriend got food poisoning?"  

"No..." She sighed again. "When I broke up with my last boyfriend it was  so 
bad I swore I'd never go through it again." I heard her sniffling. "Today at 
the picnic -- I started to have feelings for you and..."  

"And it reminded you of chicken wings."   

"Yes. I'm not gonna do that again. I'm not gonna get hurt again."  

"Randi -- maybe I'm not chicken wings. Maybe I'm more like a really well  done 
burger -- no chance for salmonella from that."  

"You feel more like chicken wings to me."  

"What is that supposed to mean?"  

She sighed yet again. "You remind me of him. Things about him I liked I  see 
in you, too. That's why I got scared."  

"That's why you told me that crock about singing for the Met."  

"Yeah... You knew it was a lie?"  

"The Met doing field auditions in a backwater town like this? I  knew it was 
the kiss-off. I'm well acquainted with that phenomenon, let me tell  you. I 
recognize it when I see it."  

"Oh, Nick -- I'm sorry." She sniffled more. "I didn't mean to hurt you."  

"The kiss-off didn't hurt. It was just another in a long string. I'm  used to 
it by now. What hurt was discovering that you're Nubee, and then you  running 
away. I thought we had a rapport ... a relationship. I thought we were  friends. 
I couldn't understand what I did to turn you off."  

"You turned me on -- that's what turned me off."  

"That doesn't make sense."   

"It's true -- it's what happened. I never expected Nozzie to be you."  

"What did you expect?"  

"I don't know," she replied. "I know what I wanted, though."  

"What was that?"  

"I wanted someone ... around fifty or sixty years old like an uncle or a  family 
doctor."  

"I'm sorry to have disappointed you. Randi -- remember this. I'm the  same Nozzie 
I was yesterday -- before the picnic ... before you knew I'm Nick."  

"I know..."  

"I was going through our emails and IM logs..."  

"So was I."  

"So do you want to trash what we've done so far or do you want to go  through 
with it?"  

"I don't know..."  

"When you figure it out you have my number."  

"Wait, Nick... Let's try it."  

"It's too late tonight," I said.  

"I know... Are you free during the week?"   

"Let me check my calendar..." Of course, I didn't need to check my  calendar 
-- it was blank. "Yeah, I got some time this week."  

"How about Tuesday? After dinner?"   

"Yeah, that will work... Eight at Starbucks again?"  

"Okay... No, you might as well come to my place. Do you know the Sunken  Heights 
apartments? Number 308."  

"I'll see you at eight. Make sure you eat a light dinner."        



Part II

I arrived at her apartment building, found her number and pressed the  button. 
The door buzzed open for me and I took the elevator to the third floor.  She 
was standing in her doorway waiting for me. I stepped into her place and she 
closed the door.  

"Hi," I said. "You okay?"  

"I'm scared shitless."  

"I don't know if that's good or bad for your first enema."   

She giggled and gestured toward her sofa. "I figured out how to hang the  bag. 
I took down that picture. The nail is at the right height -- two and a half 
feet above the cushions."  

"That should work."  

"What next?"  

"You'll need access to your bottom."  

"I'll go change." She stepped into her bedroom and returned wearing a  short 
robe. The hem came about halfway down her thighs. I looked at her legs  without 
looking like I was looking at them. Randi had sexy legs. Like the rest  of her 
they were full and round, but smooth and shapely. They looked strong and  solid 
-- like they belonged on a figure skater.   

"Do you have the kit?" I asked.  

"Yes..." She handed it to me.   

I withdrew the clear plastic enema bag. "For your first enema," I said,  "let's 
go with a quart of water. I stepped to the kitchen sink and turned on the  tap. 
"Adjust the temperature so it's warm -- just hot enough so you can hold  your 
wrist in the stream.  

Randi put her wrist under the water. "Too hot," she said and adjusted  the tap. 
"That's good."  

"Fill the bag up to the 1000 line -- that's one litre, about a quart."  She 
held the bag under the tap. "Now, we need to flush the air from the tube.  Let 
me show you a trick..." I took the bag from her and held the tube so the tip 
was  level with the waterline. Then, I released the clamp. "See -- this way 
you  don't lose any." I handed her the bag. "Are you ready?"  

She nodded. "I'm so excited." I followed her to her living room.  

"Do you have something to use as lube?" She pointed to a jar of  vaseline.  

Randi hung the bag on the nail and picked up the vaseline. "Wait a  minute," 
I said. "Maybe you should put a towel down to catch any drips."  

"Good idea." She retrieved one from her bathroom and spread it on the  sofa. 
"I never think of things like that. That's why I wanted someone to coach  me. 
I'm no good at following directions."  

"You'll do fine. Put a little lube on the tip," I said.   

"Okay..." She dipped her finger into the petroleum jelly and smeared  some on 
the tube. "Now what?"  

"Lie on your left side. That way the water will flow downhill into your  colon. 
Since it's only a quart it won't fill you up very far." Randi adjusted a  pillow 
and lay on her left side. "That's it -- get comfortable. Pull up your  knees 
a bit."  

"Okay..."  

"Now, put the tip in." I held up my thumb and forefinger. "It only needs  to 
be about this far into your rectum. I'll turn my back and close my eyes."  

I faced away from her. "Okay, you can look."  

I turned around and took in the sight. Randi was adjusting her robe. I  could 
see the tube running from the bag and disappearing under her hem.   

"I'll control the flow." I  grasped the clamp and slid it open. "Feel  it?" 

"Yes... It's cool... Now it's warm."  

"The water in the tube lost its heat." I pinched the tube and released  bursts 
of water into her. "I'm going slow at first. It's pretty common to have  some 
constriction in your lower colon and going slow gives it a chance to relax  
and open up."  

"I feel pressure building," she said.  

"We'll go slower yet." I pinched the tube in short squirts.   

"Okay, it's better."  

"Could you feel your colon relax and open up?"  

"Yeah... That's what it felt like." I let go of the tube and the bag  started 
to drain into her. "Now it really feels warm."  

I pulled up a chair and sat looking into her face. "You're not  embarrassed 
having me here?"  

"Oh, no. I'm happy you're here."  

The bag emptied with a soft gurgle. "Now what?" she asked.  

"How do you feel?"   

"A little full..."  

"Any discomfort?"  

She shook her head. "Uhn-uhn."  

"I wouldn't expect you to. That was a pretty small enema. Most adults  don't 
start feeling full until they've had two quarts or more. I wanted you to  experience 
the procedure without being overwhelmed by volume."  

She nodded. "That makes sense."  

"At this point you'd wait until the urge to evacuate is strong. You  might never 
have a strong urge with only a quart of water. Why don't you take out the  tube 
and walk around a bit? That way gravity will help."  

She reached behind herself and withdrew the tube. I slipped the tip  guard onto 
it and helped her to her feet.   

Randi pressed her hand to her abdomen. "I still feel just a little  full."  

"Walk around. You'll know when it's time to go."  

She paced back and forth. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate having  you 
here," she said. "I needed someone to coach me and you've been very sweet  and 
gentle."  

"I'm sure you could've done this solo, Randi. It's not rocket science."  

"No -- I wouldn't have known how."  

"I sent you step-by-step instructions."  

"I still couldn't have. I can't follow directions."  

"I'm sure you'd have done fine," I replied.  

"No. You don't understand. I CAN'T follow directions. I have a learning  disability." 

"Do you mean you can't read?"  

"Of course I can read...  

"I'm sorry -- that was a dumb thing to say. Of course you can read if you can 
IM me."  

"...I just can't follow directions. I get confused and skip steps and do some 
twice..."  

"You mean..."  

"I CAN'T follow directions -- no matter how simple. If you SHOW me once  how 
to do something, after that I'll never get it wrong." She paced more. "I'm not 
stupid."  

"Randi... I never thought you were. When we talked at the picnic I  thought 
you were a bright girl. It's one of the things I liked about you."  

"I'm not stupid -- I just learn things differently than other people.  I've 
learned how to cope. I'm successful and I'm good at my job."  

"What IS your job?" I asked "You never told me."  

"I'm a teacher. I teach learning-disabled kids."   

"That's perfect, Randi!"  

"Yes, my own LD helps me understand what the kids are going through."  She pressed 
her hand to her belly. "I'm beginning to feel it now."  

"Then, go sit on the toilet. Remember one thing -- don't force it if  there's 
nothing there."  

She emerged from the bathroom. "Well?" I asked.  

She nodded. "Quite a bit came out."  

"How did you like the experience?"  

"It was different, but I liked it. I liked feeling the warmth flowing  into 
me."  

"Well, Randi -- you're no longer a virgin ... enema virgin that is. I'm sure 
you can handle it on your own from now."   

"You're not leaving are you?"  

"Well..."  

"I want to try another one -- all by myself this time; but I'd like  you to 
watch and tell me if I'm doing anything wrong."  

"All right, Randi."  

She took down the empty pouch and headed for the kitchen sink. "I'd like to 
try a full-size one this time."  

"That is the secret to a really good enema," I replied. "It can be summed up 
in two words -- sufficient volume."  

"How much is enough?"  

"Well... Most adults feel filled up with two quarts. That's not too much for 
most folks -- unless they're really petite. You're not petite, so..." I bit 
my lip.  "What I mean is, you're a good-sized girl, not one of those stick-thin, 
anorexic models..." I smacked my fist against my forehead. "I mean..."  

She smiled. "It's okay -- I know what you mean."  

"What I meant was... Randi, I think you're a pretty and sexy woman.  You have 
a nice shape -- you have curves where a woman should have them..."  

"Thanks."  

"...I think a woman should have some softness and roundness ... so you don't 
wake up all black-and-blue... God, Randi -- I don't know what's gotten into 
me..."  

She approached me and pressed her finger to my lips. "It's all right, Nick. 
You didn't dig yourself into a hole. I understand what you're trying to say." 
She held up the pouch. "I'd like to try two quarts but this only goes up to 
fifteen-hundred."  

"That's about three pints. If you fill it all the way to the top, it'll be two 
quarts... Or,  close enough to two quarts for our purpose."  

Randi began running the water and testing it against her wrist. She  held the 
bag under the tap and filled it. Then she held it up and opened the clamp to 
flush air from the tube. "How am I doing?" she asked.  

"Perfect so far."  

She carried it to her sofa, hung it on the nail and began buttering the tip 
with some petroleum jelly. I watched her lie on her left side, then turned my 
back while she inserted the tip. "Okay you can look now," she said. "I'm about 
to  turn it on."  

"Wait," I said.  

"Am I doing something wrong?"  

"No, but for two quarts I want you to lie a little differently." I put my hand 
under her left knee, took her ankle and straightened her leg. "Put your left 
arm behind  your back ... now keep your right knee bent and roll 'til you're 
halfway on your stomach."  

"Why like this?" she asked.  

"It's called Sim's position. It makes your colon almost horizontal. Two quarts 
will fill your entire colon, and it's easier if it doesn't need to flow uphill." 

"I guess that makes sense. Can I open the clamp now?"  

"Go ahead."  

She reached up and released the clamp. "Mmm ... I can feel it."  

"Take slow, deep breaths," I coached. "If it starts to cramp, close off the 
flow until the pressure subsides. Don't be in a rush. If you go slowly you can 
take two quarts with almost no discomfort at all."  

"It's flowing in easy this time."  

"The second one usually is easier."  

She pointed to her right side. "I felt it over here ... must be air inside." 

"You're doing good, Randi -- about a pint left."  

"I am beginning to feel full... Oh, this is such a different sensation than 
the first one."  

"Uncomfortable?" I asked.  

"No -- just really different ... the fullness... How much more?"   

"Just a little. You've slowed down so maybe you are getting full." I watched 
her slow, deliberate breathing. Then, the bag was empty. "Okay -- you're done." 

Randi fished the tube out from under her hem. "Do I hold it again?"  

"For as long as you can."  

"This feels so different. I feel bloated... I think I'm gonna go." She stood 
and pressed her hands to her abdomen. "Look -- my stomach is bulging out."  

"You might've had some of the first enema still inside you."  

"Maybe..." She headed for the bathroom.   

I sat on her sofa and twiddled my thumbs until she returned. "How do you feel 
now?"  

"Really good. My stomach feels empty, but I'm not hungry."  

"You feel great after a good enema -- it's a wonderful sensation and good way 
to  relax before bed." I pointed to the pouch. "Hang this over your bathtub 
to drain. Make sure  it's thoroughly dry before putting it away. That kind is 
intended for a single use,  but with some care it'll last a long time." I headed 
toward her door. "I guess  I'll be going."  

"Wait..." She faced me. "Thanks for coming. You were very sweet and  helpful. 
I'm sorry about my hysterics earlier."  

"It's okay."  

"I enjoyed the enemas. Really -- I enjoyed them a lot. I like how they make 
me feel."  

"I'm pleased," I replied.   

"And, I enjoyed your company. Would it be all right if I called you again?" 

"Call me any time."  

She gave me a peck of a kiss on my cheek. "Good night."  

I headed for my car and drove home, replaying the evening in my head.  It was 
the first time I had officiated at someone else's enemas, and it was giving 
me the firmest hard-on I could remember. Every  time I recalled the evening's 
events it started throbbing.  

I reached my apartment and headed for the shower for a long, cold one. I  slid 
between my sheets, closed my eyes and dreamed about Randi. When I woke up  my 
shorts were starched.   

Nature has a way of dealing with that sort of thing.  

I got up and checked my email. There was a nice thank-you note from  Randi. 
PS, it said, I'll call you later this week.         



Part III

The phone rang the next Saturday afternoon. I looked at the  caller ID display 
-- Randi hadn't bothered to block her number this time. I  answered and she 
asked me to come to her place to help her with something.  

I arrived at her apartment and rang her bell. She answered the door and I handed 
her a paper bag. "For you," I said.  

"What's in here?" She withdrew a small plastic bottle.  

"Dr Bronner's liquid castile soap," I replied.   

"What do you use this for?" she asked.  

"You can use a little of that to make an enema a bit more purgative --  give 
it a bit of a kick. The stuff is gentle enough to  use on infants but very effective. 
A true enemaphile wouldn't be without it."  

"Why, thanks, Nick..." She regarded the bottle. "What else can you put in an 
enema?"  

"There are lots of recipes," I replied. "Soap,  salt and baking soda are the 
most common. Most enema affectionados will want to try alcohol  or strong coffee 
at least once. You said you needed some help?"  

She handed me a heavy-duty screw hook. "I wanted to put this over my bed," she 
said.  

"To hang an enema bag?"  

"That's right. Do you think it's strong enough?"  

I looked at it. "It's more than strong enough. It only needs to support  four 
pounds."  

"Four pounds?"  

"Yeah -- that's what two quarts of water weighs. That hook will hold  four hundred." 
I carried it into her bedroom, stood on her bed and rapped the  ceiling.  

"What are you doing?" she asked.  

"Looking for a joist. If I had known I would've brought my drill. You  don't 
happen to have a nail do you?" She shook her head. "Anything to poke a  small 
hole?"  

She stepped out of the bedroom and returned with an ice pick. "Will this  do?" 

"That's a pretty brutal instrument for a gal like you to have." I took  it from 
her and resumed rapping on the ceiling. "This looks like a likely  spot..." 
I pressed the point against the drywall, worked it in and felt  resistance. 
"Look at that! I found the joist in one try."   

I began screwing the hook into the ceiling but could only manage to  twist it 
a couple of turns. "Do you have a pliers?" I asked. She shook her head.  "Wait 
-- I have a channel-lock in  the trunk of my car. I'll be right back."  

I set the pliers to the narrowest width and muscled the hook into the  ceiling. 
"There."  

"I'll show you what else I bought," she said and handed me a paper sack.   

Inside was a length of chain and an S-hook. "Very good," I said. "You  can adjust 
the height." Randi grinned and handed me something from behind her  back. It 
was a brand new, combo syringe in a sealed package. "Excellent.  Wanna try it 
out?"  

"I thought you'd never ask. I'll go get changed."  

"I'll make ready," I replied. "Do you want to try some soapsuds?"  

"Yes, please."  

I carried the box into the kitchen, peeled off the cellophane and laid  the 
contents beside the sink. Then I ran water until it was fairly hot and  filled 
the bag to the line, followed by a couple teaspoons of Dr B's. The stopper went 
onto the bag, the hose onto the stopper and the clamp onto the hose. I blew 
some  air into the bag to inflate it and rocked it to distribute the soap. Finally 
I  attached the enema pipe and flushed air from the hose.  

"I'm ready," Randi called from the bedroom.   

I walked in and the first thing I saw was the chain hanging from the  hook. 
I adjusted the height of the S-hook and hung the bag.   

Then I turned toward her. I was expecting her to be in her short robe,  but 
instead she was wearing a pink, cotton T-shirt style nightshirt. The hem  stopped 
just below her buttocks, and the fabric clung to her like a coat of  paint. 
I stopped short and scanned her from head to toe to head again taking in her 
full,  shapely legs and the twin charms of her breasts under the fabric.  

"What is it?" she asked.  

"Uh ... you have nice legs, Randi."  

She flashed a smile and then spread a towel on the bed. "I put in a little bit 
of soap," I explained, "less than a normal dose, since we don't know how you'll 
react to it." She lay on her  left side. I picked up the tube of vaseline and 
held it toward her.  

"No," she said. "You do it. You put it in me."  

"Me?" She nodded. I was already getting stiff from anticipating her  enemas. 
The thought of actually administering one to her made me almost  painfully hard 
-- and wet. I could feel my juices bubbling up and soaking my briefs.  "This 
is the first time I've actually given an enema to another person."  

"Do you not want to?"  

"Oh, I want to."  

I squeezed vaseline onto my finger and coated the tip with it; then took  another 
dab. I lifted her hem and beheld her full, round buttocks. "You have a very 
pretty bottom," I said. My hands were trembling with anticipation. I  spread 
her with my left hand and greased her pinkish-brown anus with my finger, going 
in about nail depth.  

"I'm going to put in the nozzle, now," I said and I picked it up.  I touched 
the tip to her opening, rotating it gently until is was past her sphincter, 
and then slid it into her rectum. "Okay, it's in."  

Randi rolled into Sims position. I opened the clamp, pinched the hose  and gave 
her short squirts until about a pint was in her; then I released it and  let 
it flow.  

"Sit," she said. "I need to talk to you."  

I pulled up a chair. "What's on your mind?"  

"I've decided to let myself fall in love with you," she replied.   

"Let yourself?"  

"If you're willing, that is."   

"If I'm willing? Randi I was smitten with you when I first laid eyes on  you. 
I was in love with you at the picnic."  

"I know you were."   

The bag emptied with a soft gurgle. I closed the clamp and pulled out  the nozzle. 

"How long should I hold it?" she asked.  

"Five minutes or so -- as long as you can stand it."  

"Oh," she said, "it's making me feel crampy."   

"A full dose of soap is pretty potent. It's almost too strong for me.  And to 
think some folks use double that amount." She squeezed her eyes shut and  gurgles 
came from her stomach; then she relaxed and opened her eyes. I gazed into  them. 
"You knew I was in love with you?"  

She grimaced and nodded. "Uh-uh."  

"Was it really so obvious?" I asked.  

"It was to me. Uhh!"  She bit her lip.  

"I ... I ... Randi I'd be delighted ... honored to be your boyfriend."  

She reached for my hand and squeezed it. "How long has it been?"  

"About two and a half minutes. Randi, the object isn't to hold it for a  set 
length of time, but to let it work until you can't hold it any longer."  

"I know..." A very long and loud groan came from her left side. She  pressed 
her hand to her stomach. "I knew you were falling in love with me.  That's why 
I..." She grunted.  "How long now?"  

"About three and a half."  

"Tell me when it's five..." She squeezed her eyes shut again. "Oh, it  aches..." 

"Is that why you gave me the kiss-off?"  

"Yes -- I didn't want to fall in love again so soon after breaking up. I  still 
cry over it. But I figure when the right guy comes along, you gotta accept  
it."  

"You think I'm the right guy?"  

"No, I don't think so. I know so. I'm warning you -- it won't be easy  for you. 
I'm not an easy girlfriend."  

I checked my watch. "It's a chance I'm willing to take."  

"Me, too..."  

"Okay -- five minutes."  

Randi hopped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. I took down the bag  and rinsed 
it in the kitchen sink.  

She was in there for about twenty minutes before I heard the  flush. She stepped 
behind me, draped her arms over my shoulders and kissed my  neck.  

"How did you make out?" I asked.  

"Oh, it was a workout," she replied. "I  got all warm and moist -- I think I'm 
still damp under my arms..."  

"Did you have bad cramps?"  

"No -- I had good ones -- the kind that push stuff out of you."  

"I'll bet it felt good."  

"Mmm... Now, I feel great."   

"You should take a large-volume clear water one now," I said, "to rinse out 
any soap residue. Otherwise your colon might get irritated."   

"How much?" she asked.  

"As much as you can take." She picked up the  douche nozzle from the combo kit 
and examined it. "It's not a good idea to douche  with the same kit you use 
for enemas," I said. "There are organisms in your gut that  belong there and 
not in your vagina."  

"Yeah, I know. I've never been into douching."  

"The douche tip makes a great enema nozzle, though. It's easier to hang  onto 
and it goes in deeper. Guys love 'em."  

"Can we try it for my rinse?"  

"Certainly. I want to show you something." I turned on the tap and put  water 
into the bag. "To the line here is two quarts..." I held it under the tap  again 
and filled it so the water was up to the stopper threads. "This is almost  two 
and a half..." I screwed on the cap and attached the hose.  

"Now, watch," I said and filled her plastic pitcher with water. Then, I  put 
the end of the hose in the pitcher, held up the bag and opened the clamp.  Air 
burbled through the hose and up through the water in the pitcher. I closed  
the clamp, lay the bag on the floor while holding the hose under the water and 
opened the clamp again.  

Water began siphoning from the pitcher into the bag. "Oh, my God!" Randi  exclaimed 
and laughed. "Look at it bulge."  

When it stops taking  water it's pretty close to three quarts," I  replied. 
"Just think, if we can get all this water into your bottom, your  stomach's 
gonna bulge like that bag."  

"That sounds like a challenge."  

"Randi -- don't hurt yourself. Never take so much water it hurts."  

"Don't worry I won't. I don't have much tolerance for pain."  

"Make sure the hose stays on the stopper or you'll turn it into a super- soaker... 
Looks about done."   

I closed the clamp, attached the douche tip and gingerly picked up the  bloated 
bag. Randi accompanied me into her bedroom. I hung the bag with the S- hook. 
She assumed the left-side, knees up posture and I began lubing the tip. I  put 
a dab of vaseline on her anus, worked it in with my finger tip. "I'm going  
to put the nozzle in," I said. "It's going to feel bigger than before." I slid 
the nozzle into her. "Okay?"   

"Okay."  

"Ready?" I asked.  

"Yes. Make it slow. I have more to say to you."  

I snapped open the clamp and then stepped it down a couple of notches.  "How's 
that?"  

"Mmm. Good. I feel the warmth. Feels good."  

I pulled my chair to the side of the bed and sat facing her. "What makes  you 
believe I'm the right guy?"  

"I'm getting to it." She reached and held my hand. "I wanted to tell  you... 
You giving me enemas makes me horny ... very horny ... unbearably horny.  I 
didn't expect it but it does. I like feeling the water reaching deep into me. 
And, when I looked in the mirror after the big enema and saw my stomach bulging 
-- I couldn't believe how aroused I got. After you left I had to take a cold 
shower."  

"So did I," I replied. "Giving them to you makes me horny, too, and I  DID expect 
that."  

"I know it does."  

"You know it makes ME horny?" She nodded. "Is that so obvious, too?"  

"It is to me."   

"You can read me like a book."  

She closed her eyes. "Nick -- I told you about my learning disability."  

"Yes..."  

"It's my burden. I also have a gift, though sometimes I think it's a  curse. 
You see... I'm an empath."  

"A what?"  

"An empath. I can feel other people's feelings."  

"You can read minds?"  

"No. I can't read thoughts. It's more basic than that -- it's raw  emotion. 
I can feel what others feel."  

"I never heard of anything like that before." I gazed at her. "What am I feeling 
now?"  

"Lust ... combined with a sweet love ... and some disbelief."  

"An easy guess."  

"It's not a guess," she replied. "I FEEL it from you. I feel how you  want me 
... the way you want me. It's really very sweet."  

"Randi, this sort of thing isn't possible."  

"But, it's true. Don't ask me to explain how I can, because I  don't understand 
it myself. All I know is, it's true."  

"Can you feel everyone's feelings?"  

"No ... only people I'm close to ... fond of. Sometimes I can feel  strangers' 
feelings if they're strong enough. Once I think my sixth sense saved  me. I 
was in college and walking back to the dorm.  I realized some guy was  following 
me. I felt hostility, so I ducked into a little dress shop along the  way. I 
began looking at everything in the store. A clerk asked me if she could  help 
and I told her a guy was following me. She called the police."  

"That's creepy, Randi."  

"And, at the picnic, when Kitty fell into the pool -- I felt her terror.  I 
knew something was wrong and that's why I came running."  

"You did seem to appear from nowhere."  

"As you and I sat and talked I began feeling YOUR feelings. I knew I was  getting 
close to you. That's what frightened me. I didn't want it so soon...  It's not 
that I didn't want YOU... I didn't want love so soon."  

"You can't control who you fall in love with," I said.  

"I know... I feel something from you I've never felt with any other guy."  

"What is it?"  

"I can't put my finger on it, but it makes me feel good. It's why I  decided 
to let myself love you.  My gift is why it'll be hard for you. You won't  be 
able to keep anything from me. If you're in pain, I feel it. If you're  joyous, 
I feel it. If you're angry, I'll feel it." Her eyes began to brim.  "Deceit, 
hatred... I'll feel it." She clamped shut her eyes and bit her lip.  Tears rolled 
down her face.  

"Oh, Randi -- that's what happened with your last boyfriend isn't it?"  

She pressed her knuckle to her lips and nodded. "What hurt most was him  lying 
about it. I knew he was lying. He kept telling me he loved me but I felt  something 
very different from him."  

"Did he know about your ability?"  

"No. I've never told anyone ... 'til now. Maybe if I had..." She  sniffled. 
"I won't make that mistake again.  I'll be totally, brutally honest  with you, 
Nick. I owe you that much, since you can't help but be the same way  with me." 

I looked at the bag. "Randi, you don't have to take the whole thing."  

"I want to ... I want to try to, at least..."  

I stopped the flow. "Roll onto your right side," I said. "Gravity will help 
it flow high into your colon." I minded the hose as she shifted position. "We'll 
let you rest for a moment. Are you okay?"  

"Yeah..." She put her hand on her abdomen. "It's a lot of water."  

I opened the clamp. "Relax your belly," I coached. "Take short, shallow breaths 
with your ribs and not your diaphragm." Her lips parted and she began a  shallow 
panting. I grabbed the hose and pinched it to modulate the flow, making the 
squirts into her shorter and with longer pauses; and I watched her face,  looking 
for a sign to stop. It never came.  

"My God, Randi," I said, "you took three whole quarts."  

"I feel like I'm going to pop." I pulled out the nozzle and she rolled  onto 
her back.  

I put my hands on the sides of her abdomen. "Oh, wow... You feel like  you have 
a melon in there. Are you in any pain?"  

Randi ran her hands along her stomach. "No -- a little nausea maybe." She looked 
up at me. "Nick -- I really like how you feel when you  give  me the enemas." 
She opened her arms in an invitation. I embraced her, she hugged  me and we 
kissed.  

"What does it feel like?"  

"It's complicated... I feel your arousal, but there's something else ...  something 
very appealing. I can't describe it."  

"Please try."  

"I feel a love from you that's sort of like what I felt from my parents  when 
I got sick as a little girl ... not that I understood it then. It's ...  it's 
concern -- you caring for me."  

"Caring?"  

"Yes ... you care for my comfort ... my well-being. That's the best I  can do 
describing it, but it means a lot to me. It feels really good."  

"I love you, Randi."  

"I know you do. I know. I love you, too. Now I gotta go."  

I helped her to her feet. She ran her hands along her abdomen, then  grabbed 
the hem of her nightshirt and pulled it up to her ribcage. "Look!" she  said. 

Her belly bulged as if she were several months pregnant. I put my hand  on her 
stomach and could feel the outline of her colon -- her cecum, engorged  like 
a football and the bulge of her distended sigmoid.  

"Come with me," she said. "I won't mind if you don't."  

I followed her into the bathroom. Randi sat on the toilet, folded her arms  
across her abdomen, leaned over and expelled a long gush of water. "Mmm..." 
she  said, "feels good..." She looked up at me. "I like how you feel when you're 
with me.  The closer I get to you, the stronger I feel you." She bore down and 
expelled another long gush.   

"How long have you known about your ability?"  

"As long as I can remember. I was in high school I when understood what  was 
happening ... and, that I was different ... that not everyone shared my ability." 

"I want to make this work, Randi. It'll be a different sort of  relationship, 
but I think a good one. After all, you and I will be soul mates in  a way no 
other couple can be."  

She leaned over and expelled more. "I suppose."  

"Rock back and forth," I said. "Stretch your torso. It'll straighten out  kinks 
in your colon and it'll drain better."  

She lifted one arm over her head and the other. "Yes, it's helping..."  Another 
stream hit the bowl. "I'm starting to feel empty. My belly's back to normal 
... but I don't think I'm quite done."  

"Relax and don't force it."  

"It's not working."   

"The best thing to do is get off the toilet and walk around."  

I followed her into the living room and sat on her sofa as she paced for  a 
few minutes. "It's still not working. What happens if it won't come out?"  

"Nothing -- you'll just absorb the water. If it's a lot it'll make you  pee. 
Here -- lie on your back on the sofa."   

I smoothed my hand along her abdomen and found her navel under her  nightshirt. 
Then, I found her right hip bone and from these landmarks I located  her McBurney's 
point.  I began a circular massage of her abdomen from there, up  to her ribcage 
and across to her left side. "Your stomach is considerably softer  than before," 
I said. "Okay, now lie on your left side."  

"My left side?"  

"Yeah, it makes your cecum high ground." She rolled over and I gave her  the 
same massage. "Now stand up and walk around."  

A gurgle came from her stomach. "I think something's happening," she  said. 
"Mmmph... a cramp."  

"Stuff from way up is probably coming down."  

"Yeah... Excuse me." She trotted toward her bathroom. I sat on her sofa to wait 
for her.  

Randi emerged a few minutes later, holding her stomach. "Oh, this feels  soooo 
good," she said. "Now I feel cleansed -- empty and relaxed."  

She approached me. I opened my arms and she sat on my lap. I held her, caressed 
her thigh and kissed her hair. She kissed my lips and  we kissed again, tongues 
touching.  

I pulled back to catch my breath. "We're moving pretty fast," I said.  "Are 
you always this..."  

"With the right guy I am," she replied. "And, I know you're the right one. I 
feel how you feel for me ... the purity of it. I've been searching for someone 
who feels the way you do."  

I kissed her chin and her neck. "We had better cool it," I said. "We both  know 
where this is heading and I didn't bring any condoms. I'm sorry, but it's been 
a long time since I've been in the dating scene..."  

"It's all right. You didn't need to bring any."  

"Do you have some?"  

"No, I'm on the pill."   

"But..."  

"Oh don't worry. I'm clean. I don't have any STDs and you don't look  like someone 
who has any, either."  

"You can't always tell by looking," I replied. "I suppose you're right.  In 
order to have an STD I'd have to have S and I haven't had any of that  in quite 
a while."  

"Well, let's fix that problem right now." Randi took my hand and led me back 
into her bedroom. She began unbuttoning my  shirt, stripped it off my shoulders 
and dropped it onto the floor.  

I grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and lifted it. She raised her arms,  slipped 
out of it and stood, nude before me. "Randi -- you are beautiful," I  said. 
"You have a gorgeous body."  

We lay beside each other on her bed. I kissed her face, her neck and her  shoulders. 
Then I turned my attention to her breasts. They were beautiful, B-cup  sized 
and firm with pale, half-dollar sized areolas and thick, fleshy nipples. I  
stroked her nipple and it responded by becoming firm and erect.  

"Tell me," I said, "can you sense my arousal?"   

"Of course I can, and feeling it arouses me."  

"What a different way to experience sex."  

"It's the only way I know."  

"You've never made love with someone you couldn't read?"  

"What kind of a girl do you think I am?"   

"Of course you wouldn't have..." I brought my lips to her breast and  tongued 
her nipple. I could feel her heart pounding through her flesh.  

"This feels good," she said. "Oh, I wanted this after our first session the 
other day..."  

I kissed her between her breasts. "I wanted this, too."  

"I know you did." I began mouthing her breasts  and tonguing her nipples, the 
taste of her skin filling my mouth. She held my head and  caressed my hair, 
her breathing  becoming slow and deep. "Oh," she gasped. "This is wonderful. 
I wish you could  feel this the way I do."  

I coaxed her onto her back, knelt astride her hips and began massaging  her 
breasts, stroking them, squeezing her areolas and rolling her nipples. Randi 
rolled her head to one side and closed her eyes. She pulled back her shoulder 
blades, expanded her ribcage and rocked her torso back and forth.  

I climbed off her, knelt and peppered her chest and stomach with kisses.  I 
caressed her lower abdomen, ran my fingers through her pubic patch and slipped 
one into her slit; then I began stroking her clit. "How's this feel?" I asked. 

"Mmm.. That's good. Just a little faster."  

I ramped up the cadence and rolled her nipple in synch. With my hand on  her 
left breast I could feel her heart pounding.   

Randi's lips parted and her breathing became panting. "Oh, God," she  gasped. 
"Oh, God I'm coming!" She arched her back and let out a moan, then lay  back 
on the bed, panting.  

I cradled her in my arms as she regained her breath. "Now it's your  turn," 
she said and coaxed me onto my back. She began caressing my chest and  abdomen, 
working her way down to my hips.  

She stroked my shaft and kissed my glans. Then she wrapped her lips  around 
it and caressed it with her tongue. "Oh, God Randi," I gasped, "that  feels 
so good. Don't do too much. We wouldn't want it to go off prematurely."  

She looked up at me. "Don't worry. Remember -- I feel what you feel.  It's almost 
as if I'm doing this to myself. I won't let it go too far." She  began licking 
my shaft,  with long, sensuous strokes from base to glans.  

"I know," I said, "let's do some sixty-nine." She rolled onto her back.  I straddled 
her chest and bent over her, looking down at her mons and between  her legs. 

I supported myself on my elbows. She rolled her thighs apart. I slipped  two 
fingers into her vagina. "Do you know where your G-spot is?" I asked.  

"Yes..."  

"Am I close?"  

"In a little deeper... There -- that's it. Press a little harder."   

I massaged the roof of her vagina. She began moaning, grabbed my erect  member 
and squeezed it in time with her moans. I moistened the middle finger of  my 
other hand on my tongue and used it to rub her clit. She still held my very 
hard dick in her hand. I continued my stroking and massaging.  

She let out a moan and squeezed me hard. I kept up my cadence -- at this  point 
I was going to stroke her until she called for me to stop.   

Randi let out another moan. I could see her pelvic floor pulse as  orgasm after 
orgasm swept over her.  

"Oh, stop," she panted and attempted to regain her breath. "Oh, I had  lots..." 

"Are you ready for me? I asked.  

"Yes," she panted.  

I caressed her legs and kissed between her thighs. She rolled  them apart for 
me. I knelt between them and guided my glans to the entrance of  her vagina, 
slid inside and lowered myself onto her. As I did, she wrapped her  legs around 
mine and I felt her smooth calves against mine.  

I eased my weight onto her and rocked my hips to drive  myself deeper into her. 
She put her arms around me. I lay still atop her for a  moment, savoring the 
sensation of being inside her. She guided my face to hers  and we kissed, pressing 
our mouths together and breathing each other's air.  

I began thrusting, using a rocking, rotating motion to try to find the  spot 
I was massaging with my fingers. It looked like I was succeeding. Randi  began 
moaning as I thrusted. Her response aroused me further, stiffening my  erection. 
I pushed harder. "Oh," she grunted.   

There is nothing sexier than watching a woman approach orgasm --  especially 
if you're the one driving her to it. I increased the vigor of my  thrusting, 
knowing my own release was moments away. She tightened her grip on  me. I couldn't 
delay the inevitable any longer.  I knew I was coming. I pushed  deep into her 
and ejaculated.   

At the same moment she let out a moan and drove her nails into my back.  Spent, 
I fell against her for a moment, then lifted myself off her. "Was I too  heavy 
on you?" I asked.  

"No," she panted.   

I looked at her face. Her cheeks were red and her forehead glistened  with moisture. 
I kissed her. "That was great," I said. "You and I are pretty  compatible sex 
partners, don't you think?"  

"Pretty compatible," she agreed.  

"I think both partners coming at the same time is the holy grail of  sex."  

"Yeah, I think so, too."  

"Was yours good?"  

"I didn't have one," she replied.   

"But ... you ... you were so..."   

"What you were seeing was YOURS."  

I looked at her dumbfounded and then laughed as the significance of what  she 
said sunk into my skull. "You mean you felt mine as if it was yours."  She smiled 
and nodded. "Did I have a good one?"  

She kissed my cheek. "A real good one. It's okay I didn't have one this time. 
You gave me lots earlier and it would've distracted me from feeling yours." 

I lay beside her and she cuddled against me. "Randi -- how close ... how  physically 
close do you need to be to someone to feel their feelings?"  

"It depends... The closer the better. If I touch them it's real strong.  I can 
feel some strong feelings through a distance..."  

"Like Kitty when she fell into the pool."  

"Yeah... Most of the time I need to be pretty close."  

"Could you feel your parents' feelings?" I asked.  

"Yeah."  

"Did you ever feel them making love?"  

"I don't know. Probably, but I didn't realize it at the time." She drew  in 
a deep breath and ran her hand along my chest. "We shouldn't lay here too  long. 
You're hungry and..."   

"No, I'm not."   

She looked into my eyes. "Don't lie to me. You know I can feel what you  feel. 
You are hungry."  

"Yes, but I don't care. A little later I can call for a pizza or  something. 
Right now all I want to do is lie here and hold you." I kissed the top of her 
head.  "Is that better?"  

"Yes... But, don't you see? You can't even tell me a little white lie  without 
me knowing."  

"Yeah, I get it. It's just going to take me a while to adjust."  


                              ====================


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