Becoming Anal Erotic

When I was growing up, it was common for doctors to prescribe enemas. If I had a fever, stomach ache, or constipation, my mom would call the doctor and I would listen, knowing he would say "Give him an enema." That brought instant fear and dread, but also anticipation and some sort of excitement. Sometimes we also had our temperature taken anally, which meant lying on your stomach with a bare bottom, having someone spread your cheeks, touch a little Vaseline to your hole, and slide a glass thermometer in. But the main event was enemas. In my adulthood, a therapist told me that doctors had largely stopped prescribing enemas because it made many boys (later men) "anal erotic." Well no kidding!!  I would be called into the bathroom, after hearing the preparations going on. I would be naked except for my undies, with goosebumps, flushed skin, and that feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Entering the bathroom, I would see the jar of vaseline, the red enema bulb with a black nozzle pointing upwards, and my mom sitting on the toilet or the edge of the bathtub. I would have to take my undies off and be seen totally naked. The first few times, I remember whining and flailing about, trying to weasel out of it.  I had already discovered the tingle in my penis when I touched it, especially bare, and the little boy hard-on I would get. I played with myself a lot, and there was the delicious mixture of excitement and shame that went with it. I assume all of us know that potent mixture of feelings. That's why we are here. Even just being naked was exciting, and being naked in this odd situation was even more exciting in a different sort of way. I mean, I had to be SEEN. I had to LAY over someone's lap. A FINGER RUBBING Vaseline over my hole. Then this THING going in me. I would cry and protest as the water entered me, but I was also getting attached to the feeling and the whole situation. It was embarrassing and humiliating and uncomfortable, but also strangely exotic and exciting. When I wasn't sick, I would sneak into the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet just to look at it! I would play with it. Imagine it going in me. Crave the feeling. This continued into my pre-teens. I still didn't have a grownup erection, but I got all the feelings inside me: excitement, thrill, craving, tingling. I graduated to my mom's douche nozzle and sticking it in myself whenever I was alone--or thought I could sneak and get away with it. BUSTED!! At 12 or 13, I was really craving it one day when my mom was in the kitchen cooking. I wanted it so bad that I faked a stomach ache and complained about it until she offered to give me an enema. Once the offer was out there, I pushed it a little too far by saying "Okay, but use the longer nozzle thing because the smaller one might leak." She must have seen right through me, because the enema was off and I never got another one. When I started fully masturbating in seventh grade, anal penetration naturally became a part of it, especially on extra-horny days when I was home alone. I remember walking the few blocks from the school bus with nothing but masturbation on my mind and wondering if I would have the house to myself. Do we all remember that walk? The excitement, the craving, the anticipation of having the luxury of getting fully naked and jacking or jilling off? God, that was delicious!! If I WAS so lucky, I would take all my clothes off and walk around the house with a bobbing erection looking for something to stick up my ass. My mom's douche nozzle, if I could find it that day. She seemed to have gotten rather crafty about hiding it, but I could be equally crafty in searching for it. And I could be patient--even with dripping hard-on that was craving to be stroked. Once found, I would take it to a cozy place, the bathroom or my bedroom, close the door and watch myself in the mirror as I touched it to my hole, slid it all the way inside me, and then turned my attention to my bare hard penis. Sometimes I would just beat off with it in me. Other times I would fill the bag with warm water and jack off while the water filled me. I branched out into other objects: the handle of a hair brush, the neck of a soda bottle, a roll on deodorant bottle, a Sharpie pen. ANYTHING I could find that I thought would go in me. One day, all I could find was a deordorant bottle with a flat top (NO TAPER). I contemplated that one, but ultimately decided I was SO HORNY that I HAD to have it! Man, it was challenging to get that through my hole. Once it was in, it felt BIG and GOOD, but after coming I had some reservations about being crazy enough to do it and fears that I might have damaged myself forever. Soooo... When I was fifteen and a guy was sleeping over for the first time--he went to a different school and we didn't know each other but our parents were friends and were going out for the night--we got into the usual girl talk, then got into beating off. Out of the blue, he asked "Have you ever had anything like a dick up your ass?" WELL, I was totally surprised!!. And I'm sure you know what I was thinking...