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When Your Mom is a Nurse

Enema, when your mom is a nurse

On my 18th birthday, my friends threw a party. There was pot, alcohol and drugs. I was disappointed that kids my own age, my friends, wanted to fuck around with that stuff. I almost didn’t have a good time at my own party, but fortunately, I was able to let most of the 20 or so people do whatever they had to do. My two closest friends, like me, didn’t drink or take anything, and we had a good time listening to the music, dancing, then going out on the back patio and talking until like 2 am.

Someone came around with a plate of brownies. I ate one. I felt strange and dizzy shortly afterward. I know now, that I was somehow high. On what, I don’t know. I don’t think it was marijuana. I didn’t appreciate the experience. Fortunately, it wore off after an hour.

The next day, I had terrible diarrhea. It lasted for three days. I thought about telling my mom, who is a nurse, but didn’t. On the fourth day, I seemed back to normal. On the fifth day, I was constipated. Quite constipated. So much so that it hurt. That lasted a week before I gave up and told Mom. She was like, “I’ve gotta get you to a doctor.”

The doc and his nurse did all the usual stuff including blood test, throat check, temperature, blood pressure and so on. He confirmed it was probably the brownies I ate. He said some scientific name, that ‘all the kids are doing it,’ which was whatever-the-fuck was in those brownies, and added “This is the result.”

He prescribed something called “pro-biotics” which he said would repopulate the good bacteria in my intestine, and told me I need to take a medicated enema for the next seven days.

After stopping at the pharmacy, I got home, and I told my mom the whole situation. I told her I’d take the pro-biotics, but no way was I going to submit to an enema. I’ve never had one, but I kind of understood the general idea. Someone shoots water up your butt, right?

Well, I was wrong about not taking enemas. “You’re going to have the enemas young man. I don’t want a sick or dead kid on my hands.”

“Oh, Mom, I’m not going to die,” I said.

“Right, because I’m going to administer the enemas.”

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way, and watch your mouth.” she responded, forcibly in the way only a mother can do.

“Being a nurse, I’ve given plenty of enemas. It’ll be fine. You might even find it enjoyable.”

I was like, “Whaa?”

There was a lot of shit going through my mind just then. Like embarrassment. My mom hasn’t seen me naked since I was like five years old. But, why did she say I might find it enjoyable?

She answered, “Well… you’ll see.”

That was intriguing, and no matter what I tried, she wouldn’t say more.

She was all set up later that afternoon. She had deployed her massage table in her bedroom next to the bathroom. She had an enema bag and had filled it with the water and medicine mixture. She had turned up the heat so I wouldn’t be cold. Then, the worst thing happened: She told me to take off my clothes. All my clothes. I felt trapped. I really didn’t want to. It felt just plain wrong. But slowly, I did become as naked as the day I was born, right in front of her.

“Oh, you shave down there,” was her first comment.

“Well, I, um, well… a lot of guys do it.”

“I know. It looks nice. No need to apologize or anything.”

She had me lay on my back on the table, which she had covered with plastic and a sheet. She had me draw up my knees to my chest and hold them with my hands. My willie and balls were totally exposed to her, and there was nothing I could do about it. It felt like a very weird – very weird – situation!

“Now, you may get an erection during this procedure. Don’t be embarrassed. It happens.”

That was the last thing I needed. To think I could get hard in front of my own mother.

To distract myself so that wouldn’t happen, I thought about all the old people she helps in the nursing home. “Do you give them enemas?”

“Sometimes, when they need it. The old gents get erections quite often. More than the younger guys, in fact. Sometimes, when no one’s looking, I help them out.”

“Help them out?”

“You know.”

Did she mean what I thought she meant? I totally let that conversation drop as she was preparing the nozzle of the squirt bag. She was coating it with vaseline. It was all over her finger, and the next thing I knew, she was rubbing that vaseline all around my asshole.

Wow! Even though it was my mother, no one had ever touched around my anus like that in my whole life. It felt fucking amazing! She kept doing it for quite a while.

At first I didn’t notice, but then, to my horror, right there in front of my mother, my penis grew into a long, hard, throbbing baseball bat.

“That’s nice,” she commented. “A lot like your father’s, but less hairy of course. I miss him.”

It was hard to imagine why she would miss him. The cold-hearted guy abandoned her, us, when I was two years old. I’ve been to dinner with him like three times, and he always finishes with, “I’m proud of you, son,” like he really cares.

Well, the one good thing is he has agreed to pay for my medical school, all the way through. I’m about to graduate high school in very good shape, so I may be able to go to a place like Yale, or Harvard. I’ve already been accepted at UCSD and the University of Rochester. ‘Yeah Dad, you’re going to be paying in a big way. Maybe even for ivy league.’

You’d think the idea of her giving handjobs to 80-year-olds would reduce my erection, but it had the opposite effect. I was imagining my delicate little mother giving some old fart a handjob. Interesting picture!

Suddenly, my eyes opened wide as my mother stuck her finger directly into my ass. It felt weird, but not terrible.

“I’m preparing you for the nozzle.”

She kept her finger in there quite a while. Then she announced, “I might as well check your prostate while I’m in the neighborhood.”

I felt some poking in there, and a sudden gotta-pee like feeling. It was rather nice, and did not help my erection situation at all. I was as hard as I’ve ever been in my life. I looked down and saw my cock bobbing up and down with every heartbeat.

Finally, she slowly removed her finger. It seemed to be a foot long. Then she slowly introduced the nozzle, and in time, my rectum was filled with 500cc of liquid.

Mom told me I had to hold it in for ten minutes. It kind of felt like I had to poop, but not so bad that it might happen accidentally.

She started a timer on her phone, then she reached for my balls, grabbing one lightly in each hand.


“I’m going to check you for lumps. That’s important in young men.”

“Oh.” What else could I say?

She continued to fondle my balls for literally several minutes. At first it felt weird and out of place. Almost as if I was being naughty or doing something wrong for letting this happen. But she is a nurse after all. In a minute I settled down and started to enjoy the feeling. I mean really ENJOY it. What a feeling! Then, before I could do anything about it, pump, pump, pump. Without my cock being touched at all, I was ejaculating onto my chest and stomach.

“Oh!” Mom exclaimed with delight. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Then she laughed.

I was embarrassed beyond words, but ultimately, I laughed also – kind of sheepishly.

I started to apologize, but she shushed me. “No, don’t say anything. It was really fun seeing that.”

“Mom!” I was shocked, but also relieved. I mean, maybe someone else’s mother would yell at him for that. Who knows?

When the timer went off, I ran to the bathroom, almost losing my shit, literally, in the process. Cum was dripping off my belly onto the floor.

Well, the situation was repeated every afternoon for six more days as per doctor’s orders. I ejaculated every time. After the second day, it wasn’t spontaneous. With the nozzle still in my butt, or sometimes Mom’s finger, she literally stroked my penis, causing super-strong ejaculations.

When the treatment, which did indeed relieve my constipation, was over, I practically begged my mom for an 8th treatment, but she wasn’t having it. She announced that while we both enjoyed that, we shouldn’t take it any further.

She’s never done anything like that since, but it did somehow bond us even closer than we had been before.

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1 thought on “When Your Mom is a Nurse

  1. Sounds like mom went a bit beyond the call of duty.

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