Chapter 8

I sat near the concourse glancing up at the arrivals display. Cindy's flight was delayed due to local weather and I was hoping it wouldn't be diverted. Outside a line of thunderstorms had passed through and the skies were beginning to lighten. On the board an arrival time flashed: 3:45. My watch read 2:27 and I hoped this was a firm time, or else I would need to change plans for the evening.

I stood and strolled to the window overlooking the tarmac. Planes were beginning to depart and I took this as a good sign.

Time seems to drag under these circumstances. Finally the board changed and the arrival time switched to "Arrived". I watched as an Embraer regional jet parked at the gate. The jetway extended and docked with the craft. I stood near the security checkpoint and waited as the trickle of de-planed passengers turned into a mob.

I spotted Cindy's red hair before she saw me and I waved to catch her attention. Her eyes met mine and she broke into a trot, dragging her carry-on behind her. I reached to embrace her and she jumped up, wrapping her legs around mine. I held her and we kissed. "I missed you so much," I said.

"I missed you, too. Come -- let's get my checked bags."

"Bags? You left with one."

"I brought a bunch of stuff with me."

We headed toward the baggage claim. I spotted a bag I recognized as hers and snatched it from the belt. "Which is the other one?"

Cindy lifted up on her toes and watched the chute. "That one," she said as an old, red, hard-sided Samsonite case landed with a thud.

"This bag must date from the seventies," I said as I plucked it from the belt. "Heavy, too."

"It was my mom's," she replied and we hiked to the parking structure. I popped the trunk and we deposited her luggage inside.

Cindy sat in the passenger seat. I headed out of the lot and toward the condo. "How is your mom doing?" I asked.

"Better. She's up and around, although not out of the woods yet."

"Can she care for herself?"

"Basically. The county public health nurse will stop by twice a week to check up on her and let me know if she needs anything."

"Do you have a power of attorney?" I asked.

"I do. Mom's not feeble-minded. She's as sharp as ever. It's her bones that are fragile."

"You take care of your bones," I admonished. "Some of those problems run in families."

"Yeah, I know. It was a good visit."

"It was a long visit -- four plus weeks. I'm glad your employer is generous with leave time."

"They are ... though I had to use all of this year's leave and borrow against a week of next year's. I'm glad I had the time with her, Nick. We were estranged for a long time after I dropped out of high school. We were able to cover a lot of ground. I'll tell you, Nick -- when I first saw her in the hospital ... I really was afraid it was too late. In a way her recovery is a reprieve."

I parked the car in the condo's attached garage and opened the front door to the townhouse. Then I helped carry Cindy's bags inside and to the master bedroom. "Put the red one on the bed," she said. I complied and she snapped it open.

"What's all that?"

"Stuff ... from when I was in high school. Believe it or not, I was a fairly happy and well-adjusted student until ... well, let's say, until some bad decisions were made by all involved." She picked up a tartan kiltie skirt. "This was my favorite. I wonder if it still fits?"

Cindy stripped off her jeans and fastened the skirt around her waist.

"You look cute in it," I remarked.

"Here's the blouse I used to wear with it." She slipped out of her tee and into a white, short-sleeved blouse and examined herself in the mirror.

"Looks great on you -- though that would've been retro even in 2002." I glanced at my watch. "I'm going to change for dinner. We have reservations at The Reef."

"What should I wear?" she asked.

"What you're wearing."

"Really?"

"Really. You look great in it."

Cindy pulled the tails of her blouse from her waistband. She unbuttoned the bottom buttons, rolled the tails and tied them in a bow. "If I went to the mall after school I'd do this," she said. "What do you think?"

I regarded the glimpse of her flat belly and her cute navel her outfit now afforded. "Why not? It's a warm night."

We drove back toward the condo. "I was getting looks," she said.

"In the restaurant?"

"Uh-huh. One guy in particular. You had your back to him but he kept ... looking at me."

"Does that bother you?" I asked. "After all you were the best-looking gal there."

"Yes, it bothers me. I felt like an antelope being eyed by a cheetah. Doesn't it bother you?"

"It bothers me if you're uncomfortable," I replied. "But does it bother me some guy thinks I scored a sensational woman? Not so much."

I put my hand on Cindy's knee and slid it partway under her tartan skirt. "So, what do you have planned for tonight?" she asked.

"What makes you think I have something planned?"

"I know you have something up your sleeve. All evening you've looked like the cat who ate the canary."

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Have you been haunting those alt-med websites again? Did you buy some new gadget you're dying to try?"

I shook my head. "No ... not really."

"You'll have to spill the beans -- we're almost home."

I parked in the garage and we went inside. "I do have something I want you to see," I said.

"What?"

"It's in the basement."

"I hate going into that basement. It's so dark and gloomy ... and, spider-infested." I opened the door and escorted her downstairs. To the left was the furnace and water heater. To the right was a wall with a door. "That wall wasn't here before," she remarked.

I opened the door and she stepped inside. I switched on the lights.

Cindy regarded the room with her jaw slack. "Nick!" she gasped. "The cabinets and counters ... This must've cost a fortune!"

"I used stock cabinets," I replied. "I know a guy who's in construction. He was between jobs so I had him do the framing, drywall and cabinet installation. The plumbing was already roughed in. There's a commode over there." I pointed to another door.

Cindy opened it and looked in. "Like a powder room ... with a full-length mirror on the door." She closed the door and ran her hand along the counter top. She tested a faucet on a deep, stainless-steel sink.

"I put down carpet tiles on the floor," I explained and gestured to the centerpiece in the room -- a waist-high platform topped with a full-sized futon mattress. The platform itself was on a section of raised floor made from decking material. A chain hung from the ceiling and on that chain our clear silicone, 3-quart enema bag hung. "And, I took a week off to build this."

Cindy approached the platform. "You built an enema dungeon?"

"I prefer to think of it as a playroom," I replied. "Dungeon connotes BDSM and neither of us are into that." I patted the mattress. "The cover is waterproof. Just the right height for ease of administration, don't you think?"

"It's so tall..."

I reached down and unfolded a bench topped with a vinyl-covered cushion. "You can step up on this. And, it's the right height for taking an enema kneeling if you'd like." I pulled open a wide but shallow drawer. "Here are nozzles, tubes of lube ... all the accessories at your fingertips."

"You seem to have thought of everything. Why the raised floor?"

I gestured her to the other side of the platform and lifted two floor panels to expose a shallow basin with a drain. "Remember saying you were afraid you'd have an accident before making it to the toilet? Now you can expel right here."

"You're kidding!" She regarded the basin. "How..."

"It's a fiberglass shower pan," I explained. "I mounted over the existing floor drain." Opening a door in the platform I removed a length of hose. "We have hot and cold water right here so we can rinse down the basin ... and, refill the enema bag if we need to." I closed the door and the floor panels. "The raised floor is decking boards made from recycled plastics so it's waterproof and easy to clean." I faced her. "What do you think?"

"I'm ... speechless. How much did this cost?"

"Low five figures. I have been wanting to finish the basement. The cabinets provide some storage so the room is multi-purpose. I got a nice bonus this year and was ... inspired."

"I'll say, inspired," she replied.

"Care to try it out?" I asked.

Cindy regarded me, wide-eyed. She smiled, bit her lip and nodded. "I was looking forward ... You obviously have something in mind."

I pulled open a drawer. "Interested in trying this?" I held up a bulb syringe that I had fitted with a standard douche nozzle.

Cindy held the object. "I've never had a bulb enema. Sure, why not?"

"It holds eight ounces. I figure six bulbs full of soapsuds would do for a three-pint first enema."

"I suppose," she replied. "I'll go change."

"No -- as you are."

"Why?"

"With your hair in that headband and that tartan skirt, you look like a teenager. Maybe that's why you were getting looks."

"What -- do I remind you of someone you knew in high school?" she asked.

"Only every girl who ever gave me the cold shoulder."

"Is this some sort of revenge fantasy?"

"No -- I always wondered what it would be like to get under one of those girls' skirts, though -- call it satisfying a curiosity."

"Oh. Okay, then. So long as it's nothing kinky."

"As if you and I ever engage in anything the least bit kinky..." I stepped to the sink and ran water. From a cabinet I retrieved a large basin into which I measured two quarts of water and a couple teaspoons of liquid castile soap. This I carried to the platform bed. "Kneel here," I suggested, pointing to the folded-out bench.

Cindy knelt, her chest on the futon mattress. She crossed her wrists and rested her cheek on them. "Comfy?" I asked.

"Comfy enough."

The hem of her skirt came a couple inches above her knees, and bending over lifted the back of it to expose more of her thighs. I scanned her legs up and down. I always thought the backs of a girl's knees were sexy and Cindy had very sexy legs.

This is going to be fun, I thought. I lifted the hem of her skirt and folded it onto her back. Grasping the waistband of her black briefs I slid them down her thighs to her knees. "That is one really sexy bottom," I remarked as I caressed her smooth, round buttocks and then gave each one a kiss. "I'm going to use Vaseline instead of the surgical lube," I said as I smeared some onto the nozzle of the bulb syringe. "This way the soapsuds won't wash it away."

"Good idea."

Spreading her buttocks I placed a blob of Vaseline on Cindy's anus and then worked it into her orifice with my finger. Then, I applied another blob to make sure her anal canal was thoroughly coated. Squeezing the bulb to express air I submerged the nozzle in the basin of soapsuds, released the bulb and let it fill. Holding it up-ended I squeezed it again until drops formed at the outlet holes; then I sucked more fluid into it.

"I'm going to insert the nozzle," I said. "Relax..." Spreading her again I worked the tip against her pinkish-brown pucker and watched the nozzle disappear into her orifice. With a firm, smooth motion I squeezed the bulb to discharge its contents into her rectum, folding the bulb onto itself to make sure it all went in.

"Mmm," she said, "nice and warm."

I eased the tip from her and dunked the tip into the basin for a refill. "Here comes number two," I said as I reinserted the tip into her rectum and squeezed more soapsuds into her. "How is this feeling?" I asked.