My Cousin Mae
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2014 by Unca D

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Jon is a successful investment analyst. He learns from his elderly Aunt Dora that his cousin Mae, with whom he grew up in the same house, is in financial distress. Jon files to give her a hand and ends up helping her move to his town and move in with him. Jon inadvertently glimpses Mae giving herself an enema and the sight invokes his long-repressed desire for her. He is astonished when she admits her desire for him.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cousins   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Enema  

I pulled into my driveway. Mae stepped from the passenger side and I unlocked the front door. "Kyle called while you must've been speaking with some others on his team," I said to her. "He's really amped up over you. He said it's not often he finds a candidate who knows both systems and the banking industry."

"I thought today went well," she replied. "He gave me a copy of the employee handbook. I was looking at the dress code. Going over to Hubbard's for a pair of pantyhose was the right idea."

"You look sharp in that suit. You look sharp and professional with those gray stockings."

"You're right -- I will need to go shopping for a wardrobe. The dress code says skirts or slacks, dress shoes ... no bare legs and no peeky-toe shoes ... It'll be an adjustment for me. I was accustomed to coming to work in jeans and flip-flops."

"Kirk's firm is in another league."

"Also -- thanks for dinner."

"I'm not much of a hand in the kitchen," I said.

"I know how to cook. Maybe I can take on those chores. Well -- I'm going to get ready for bed."

"I have some work to do."

I went into in my study to look over bond prospectuses. An email from Kyle arrived. I opened it and scanned the contents. "Mae?" I called but didn't hear an answer. Pounding down the stairs and stepping into the living room I saw the master bedroom door closed.

"Mae," I said, opening the door and stepping in. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. Mae was nude, save for her bra. Her briefs were pulled down and around one ankle. She was lying on her left side, partway onto her stomach with her left leg straight and her right one bent. Hanging from a cord tied to one of the rails of the four-poster bed was a bulging, red enema bag, its hose leading to her bottom. "Oh, God," I said. "I'm so sorry..." I backed out of the room, closed the door and sat on the sofa. It was too late -- I couldn't un-see what I had seen, and the image of Mae's full but shapely legs and her smooth, round ass with the enema hose plugged into her had been seared into my hypothalamus.

I recalled an incident from years ago. It was the summer after I graduated high school and it was similarly seared into my brain. I recall it today as if it happened yesterday.

Our Aunt Dora was a retired registered nurse. She was from the Old School and she believed the bulk of everyday ailments had their root cause in the belly, specifically the large intestine. She also believed the cure for what ails you is a good, old-fashioned, large-volume enema.

Dora put these beliefs into practice. Both Mae and I received enemas if we had stomach-aches, overall sluggishness, or if she believed our potty habits had become lax. If we had fevers, Dora used enemas to cool us down. They were her go-to cure.

On this particular, warm, summer day, Mae had not been feeling well. I don't recall her exact ailment, but she had been lazing around the house all day in the same sort of sleep tee that she wore to bed to this day. I overheard Dora telling Mae that once she was finished in the kitchen she'd prepare an enema. I put my plan in motion.

I asked Dora if I could borrow the car to go into town to the hardware and get some O-rings. She gave me the keys and I drove out the driveway and turned down the country lane where the old farm was situated. Then, I parked behind the barn and returned to the house on foot. I was able to sneak in the front door and up the stairs to my room.

Mae's room was across the hall from mine. I knew if I hid under my desk and with the help of a toy periscope I would get a good view of the goings-on in there. I sat and waited.

After about twenty minutes I heard Mae complaining to Dora that she did not need an enema and Dora replying that she did, indeed need one and was going to get one so stop complaining and go to your room.

Mae sat on the foot of her bed. Dora climbed the stairs carrying the old red bag, bulging with a full two-quart load of hot water. On the end of the hose was a black, hard-rubber enema pipe. Dora also carried a towel over her arm and a jar of Vaseline.

She handed the towel to Mae. Both of us knew the drill by heart at this point. Mae spread the towel on her bed. She reached under the hem of her nightshirt and slid her briefs down to her ankles and stepped out of them. Then, she lay on the towel, turned to her left side and drew up her knees.

I'm sure if either of them knew I was hiding and spying Dora would've closed the bedroom door. As it was a warm day, we had the windows open for cross-ventilation. From my vantage I had an excellent view of Mae's full, round buttocks and the backs of her heavy thighs.

Dora began smearing Vaseline onto the enema tip. She folded back the hem of Mae's nightshirt and then spread her buttocks, exposing the pinkish-tan pucker of her anus surrounded with an oval of more darkly pigmented skin. In one smooth motion Dora slid the nozzle into Mae's rectum, up to the hilt.

Dora held up the bag and snapped open the clamp. "If you have a cramp," Dora said to Mae, "take long, deep breaths." She grasped hose right behind the nozzle and held it in place so it wouldn't slip out of Mae's bottom.

Our aunt kept her eye on the bag as it deflated. She closed the clamp and instructed Mae to roll over. Mae rolled flat onto her belly and Dora snapped open the clamp again. By now I had a raging hard-on, and a wet one. My juices were bubbling up, soaking my briefs. I regarded Mae's bottom and her smooth calves.

Dora closed the clamp again and Mae rolled onto her right side, her knees again drawn up. Again Dora opened the clamp and held the nozzle in place. "Too full," Mae complained.

"Pant like a dog," Dora replied. "It'll help. You're almost done, anyway."

Mae opened her mouth and panted short, light breaths. Dora closed the clamp and removed the nozzle. She instructed Mae to lie on her back. Dora palpitated Mae's abdomen and nodded with satisfaction. "You need to hold that for ten minutes," she said and looked at the watch on her wrist.

I could see looks of distress on Mae's face. She bit her lip and grimaced. Having been through this myself more times than I could count, I knew what she was enduring. Dora had filled Mae's colon from one end to the other with two quarts of very warm water. The resulting distention was stimulating waves of peristalsis in her bowel, pushing its contents toward her rectum and giving her increasingly intense and irresistible urges to expel.

Mae drew in a breath, clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. I knew she was holding back the enema with all the strength the muscles in her bottom could muster. Then she relaxed and panted. "Aunt Dora," she whimpered, "I can't hold it any longer!"

"Roll onto your right side," Dora commanded and Mae obeyed. Dora picked up a washcloth and folded it over several times. She pressed it against Mae's anus and squeezed together her buttocks. Mae moaned and grunted. "Just couple of minutes more," Dora said. "You're doing very well, dear..."

Dora glanced at her watch. "Okay -- you can go sit on the toilet now."

Mae swung her feet to the floor, holding her hands against her belly. She normally had a bit of a spare tire there, but with a two-quart enema inside her, she looked three months pregnant. Mae ran down the hall to the bathroom. I could hear her fling open the lid to the toilet and the splash as she expelled the enema in a long, strong gush.

Dora carried the empty enema bag downstairs, leaving Mae to her devices. With Mae in the bathroom and Dora in the kitchen I felt it was safe to sneak back down and out the front door. I dashed to the barn and went into a stall. There I unzipped, whipped it out and gave it a few strokes to relieve the tension that had built in my loins from watching the afternoon's events unfold. Then I drove back around to the house, parked the car and handed Aunt Dora the keys.

"Did you get what you needed?" she asked.

"Naw -- they didn't have the right size."

"Well ... That was a wasted trip..."

So, here I was, sitting on my sofa and waiting for Mae to finish up in the master bedroom, with memories and feelings I thought had been long buried swirling in my head.

Shortly she emerged wearing a robe that was open in front and underneath her bra and panties. She was palpitating her visibly distended abdomen. "Gosh, Mae," I said, "I'm so sorry."

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking first?" she asked. "If you'll excuse me I have business in the bathroom." She headed back into the master bedroom and I heard the door to the attached bath close.

I continued sitting on my sofa. Mae emerged from the bedroom, her robe closed and the belt tied. She paced back and forth in the living room. "Mae..."

"It's okay, Jon -- probably nothing you haven't seen before ... or, experienced. Aunt Dora gave me enemas and I'm sure you got them, too."

"That's for sure."

"For your information, I've been on a twice-a-week enema regimen ever since Gene left me. The stress of that relationship gave me some sort of IBS, and enemas help me deal with it."

"I'm sorry, Mae."

"It's all right, Jon. I've actually come to enjoy them. Now -- what was so important you had to barge in on me?"

"Good news -- I got an email from Kyle. He copied me on one he sent to you."

"I haven't checked my email. What did he say?"

"You're all set -- you can start on Monday."

"She put her hand above her left breast. "That's a relief ... a real load off my mind."

"It is a consulting position," I continued. "You'll be working through an agency and get your pay and benefits from them. However, if you do well then Kyle won't rule out hiring you as a full-time associate."

"I suppose that's better than nothing," she replied somewhat dejectedly.

"It's a helluva lot better than nothing. You don't know how difficult it is to get into Kirk's firm as a consultant let alone an associate. I think this is about the best you could expect. Congratulations."

She smiled. "Thanks. Thanks for everything, Jon."

"Mae -- there's something else..."

She put her hand on her belly. "Can it wait? The rest of this enema has decided it wants out, and it wants out now." I watched her head back into the master bedroom. I sat and tried to formulate the right words to say to her.

She emerged again from the bathroom, her arms stretched above her head. "Mmm ... I feel great after a good enema ... and it was a good one. I'm sorry my reaction to Kyle's email was subdued. You're right -- it was good news." She regarded me. "What else did you want to say?"

 
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