Post Colonoscopy Care

I've been curious, off and on, for years, about what kind of sensations I would receive from some ass-play from someone experienced in that area. My soon-to-be ex-husband had never expressed any interest in the topic and the furthest I had gone myself was to sometimes rub my finger over my asshole when "taking care of myself" on occasion.

My opportunity to experiment a little (a lot!) more happened recently, when I realized I would need a ride home from my (ugh) colonoscopy. My doctor had recommended I get one as a baseline for future comparison, not long after I turned fifty. I'd been putting it off for a few months, then made the appointment with the idea my husband could bring me home -- then we separated.

I have this one guy friend (truly an awesome friend) I've known for over twenty years. He's always been there for me when I needed someone and, I suspect, has always wanted to be a little more than just very good friends. Hey -- I'm essentially single now -- why not offer some bait and see how far he goes?

Bob didn't take much convincing -- all I had to do was raise the question of how I would get back from the hospital after my procedure and he was only too eager to volunteer to take the afternoon off work and transport me. I didn't try too hard to deter him, to be honest.

So the day of my procedure rolled around and at that point, I couldn't wait for the whole ordeal to be over -- it's not so much the procedure itself, it's the prep (read: internal cleansing) prior to it that's awful. By the lunchtime of the day itself, I was hungry, cranky and felt I'd flushed out my internals as severely as if I'd had the equivalent of food poisoning (without the cramping). Bob showed up around noon and drove me over to the local hospital for my procedure.

We waited quite a bit, then they took me back to get undressed and then they had me lay down while they administered a mild general. In no time, I was out of it. Next thing I knew, I was woozily sitting up and being directed to get dressed. They sat me in a wheelchair and wheeled me out to the doors, where Bob had brought the car up. The wooziness left me almost instantly as the cold wind hit my face and whipped my hair around, snapping me back to alertness.

Bob helped me in the passenger side and drove me home, uneventfully. I pretended to be more out of it than I really was, hoping to encourage him to take more care of me than I really needed. When we arrived at my house, he parked in driveway and asked me for the key-code to my garage, which I mumbled to him, acting still out-of-it. He supported my arm as he led me in through the garage and into the main part of the house, walking slowly and carefully the whole way.

He sat me down on the couch while he let the over-exuberant dog out the patio door, turning back to me to assess my grogginess. Having apparently decided I might be persuaded to let him "help" me a little more (was my plan working?), Bob suggested I lay down while he got a warm washcloth to clean me up a little. No objection from me! I lay down on the couch on my side, facing outward toward the main part of the room while Bob made his way upstairs and into my bathroom (I could tell by the creaking) to procure a washcloth. He brought one back down and as he ran the kitchen water to get it warm, called over to me "can you lay on your belly, please?".

I pretended not to hear properly, so when he came around the couch with the washcloth, I was still laying on my side, acting groggy. He placed a couple pillows in front of my groin, then pulled me over, toward him, so I was on my tummy with the pillows pushing my butt upward. He then proceeded to tug my sweats down to around my knees, finding it far more difficult than he probably expected, as I was not offering any help whatsoever!

Next, there was a bit of a pause, where I assumed he was feasting his eyes upon my upturned, panty-clad butt. I shifted from side to side a little, rolling my hips, which seemed to have the desired effect of stimulating lecherous Bob out of his butt-trance.

I felt his fingers in the waistband of my Vanity Fair's, starting to shimmy them down over my hips. I made this a bit easier for him by pushing my knees into the couch and raising my pelvis enough for easier access. The underwear joined my sweats, pooled at my knees. I could now feel my exposure to the room at large. Goosebumps formed on my normally-covered private flesh.

Bob's hands, hesitant at first, palming my butt-cheeks, just resting gently on them, not pressing too firmly. His hands were a little cooler than my own flesh, stimulating the goosebumps even more. I felt his thumbs extend toward my crack, push down a little, then pull my inner cheeks apart enough to expose my rear hole to his prying eyes.

One hand was removed, then Bob spoke, soothingly "I'm just going to use the cloth to wipe away the residue from the procedure, no need to worry, this is not going to hurt..." And then I felt the warm washcloth dabbing around my anus, wiping over my taint and slightly up my butt crack. I don't know for sure if there was even anything TO wipe, but I let him explore, anyway, hoping he would feel assertive enough to go a bit further.

Bob withdrew the washcloth and tossed it over onto the counter, replacing his right hand back onto my butt cheek. Then he shifted his weight a little and leaned in closer to my ass. I could feel his breath upon my neglected (except for today!) rear region. I moaned quietly in appreciation. Now I was in a dilemma -- I wanted him to proceed further, but I also wanted him to think I was out-of-it, still not totally aware of what was going on. What to do?

I decided to simulate a small snore, hoping to embolden him into thinking I wasn't cognizant of what was going on (I know, a bad model for the #MeToo movement). I made a slight snorting sound, which startled Bob a bit, as I felt both his hands shudder as he inhaled sharply. "Kristie?" he asked, "are you awake?" And of course, I didn't respond with anything other than a sputtering out-breath. I wanted him to think I was asleep, or at least doped-up enough not to stop him.

Apparently reassured, Bob pulled my cheeks apart once more and leaned into me, placing the tip of his nose against my asshole, while extending his tongue to probe the top of my cunt. His tongue felt really good down there, as I waited for a subsequent movement -- maybe a penetration, maybe a lick down the whole length of my slit.

Instead, I felt his tongue (his glorious tongue!) move upward, away from my cunt, over my taint and come to rest with the tip probing my asshole. He slowly swirled the end of his oral muscle around, first in one direction, then in the other, never quite penetrating my asshole, but teasing me in a way completely new to me.

I tried to relax my sphincter enough to let his tongue slide inside me, but not being familiar enough with the specific muscle movements needed, I was unable to succeed at first, until Bob took matters into his own hands (well, fingers) and allowed a small pool of saliva to dribble down my butt crack at the same time as he shifted his thumbs to the edge of my asshole and used the saliva to massage all around my rear hole.

I know for a fact my cunt was displaying signs of my arousal -- I could feel my lips opening like petals of a flower, my sticky juices starting to trickle downward, toward my front, as Bob's thumbs moved closer and closer to my anus, pulling at it and stretching the tender flesh around my muscle, trying to make it easier to insert something in there, no doubt.

I needed a different sort of attention, too -- my cunt was on fire, almost crying out for touch. I pretended to shimmy my hips in my sleep, causing my exposed cunt to raise a little higher, making my lips pout open a little more. Bob caught on!

While continuing to minster to my asshole with his massaging thumbs, he leaned in once more with his mouth and flicked his tongue between my nether lips, tasting my nectar and obviously approving of it. His tongue lapped at me continually for several minutes, making me squirm quite a bit, moaning in my "sleep". Just when I thought he might be getting close to bringing me off, he removed his face from my cunt, replacing it with a couple fingers from his right hand. They slipped inside me so easily, I hardly felt them at first!

Then he managed to lock two fingers together and hook them just enough to find my special set of ridges, my G-spot. I bucked in surprise at the sudden sensation, causing Bob's mouth to resume its acquaintance with my asshole, now more malleable and penetrable. He wasted no time in sticking his tongue right it as I started to undulate beneath him. I pushed my butt up toward him as I moved my right hand to my groin, my fingers seeking out my neglected clit. It didn't take more than a dozen strokes over my inflamed organ until I started to cum. Bob's tongue inside my asshole was an entirely new and extremely pleasurable sensation, while his finger pads on my G-spot with the back of his hand pressing against my taint just compounded to create one massive pleasure-zone for me.

I shuddered hard as I came, clenching my butt cheeks together and squeezing Bob's face out of there. I trapped his fingers in my cunt as I bore down on them, hard. There's very little to compare to the sensation of cumming with something inside you, something fleshy, belonging to another person. Bob had to know I was awake by now -- nobody could cum like that and remain asleep!

When my muscles relaxed enough for Bob to extricate his hand from between my thighs, I heard him licking my nectar from his fingers, then felt my panties being pulled back up over my hips, followed by my sweats. I kept my eyes almost-closed, watching through slits as Bob washed his hands, then wrote a short note, leaving it on the counter. Then he left...