Alan wasn't exactly thrilled to be heading to rural Maine the summer after his sophomore year of college. Though it wasn't being stuck at home, living with his Mom's sister was also not the wild freedom of campus life. Fiona's husband had passed away two years ago, and Alan's Mom, knowing that Fiona could use the help and company, informed Alan that he would be spending the summer helping Fiona with tasks around the house. He was free to read and hike during the remaining, abundant free time.
Fiona, now in her late 40s, looked good for her age. Though her job as a nurse practitioner in the town clinic took up much of her time, she made a point of staying very active. Only a few grays streaked her dark brown hair. She was looking forward to seeing Alan, though she could imagine that helping her with odd jobs far away from his college friends was likely not his first choice of summer activity.
There was an additional reason that Alan was feeling apprehensive about spending so much time with his aunt Fiona; he had always had a bit of a crush on her. He was embarrassed to even call the feeling romantic attraction, but there was no other word for the way that he had noticed her shapely body growing up. He often interpreted her attempts to be friendly to him as vaguely flirty. Fiona just assumed that Alan was bashful around all adults.
When the two met again, they discovered that the other hadn't changed too much. Alan still found Fiona flirty and direct. She hadn't had children, so she seemed a little confused about what to do with Alan at first. He made it clear that he was perfectly happy left alone during the day. Fiona was surprised by how Alan now looked so much like a a grown man, was a grown man, in fact, though he still seemed boyish in his bashfulness.
After the first week of living with Fiona, Alan had settled in to a kind of routine. During the day, Fiona worked at the clinic and Alan killed time reading or exploring outdoors. In the afternoons, when Fiona returned from her shift, she and Alan would spend a few hours on various chores together. All was well except for one thing: Alan's stomach. He had hardly pooped since he'd arrived, and he was beginning to feel very cramped. It wasn't something that he was excited to talk about with his aunt, though he was certain that as a nurse she would have some sort of remedy in mind.
Alan tried to hide his predicament, but Fiona quickly caught on. She had noticed Alan wincing when the two of them were repainting the walls of the living room the evening before. Alan had dismissed it as muscle cramps from the repeated painting motion. The next morning, a Saturday when Fiona didn't have to be in to work, she found Alan rummaging in the back of the pantry. When she asked whether there was anything that she could help him find, he said that he was looking for oatmeal or Raisin Bran.
"Is there a particular reason you want those? If you're not feeling well, you can tell me. I am a nurse practitioner, after all."
"No, just trying to find a good breakfast routine."
Fiona noticed how Alan averted his eyes. She didn't need medical training to spot a liar.
"Alan, when is the last time you had a bowl movement?"
She tried to ask gently so as not to embarrass him more than was necessary.
"I dunno. I don't keep track."
She asked again, more firmly.
"You don't remember if you had one yesterday? Or the day before? This could be serious Alan."
Alan bowed his head and admitted that he hadn't gone in several days and was quite uncomfortable.
"Don't worry sweetheart, we'll have you feeling better soon. Thank you for telling me. Why don't you go to your bedroom and lie down. I'll be there in a moment."
Alan shuffled to the bedroom and flopped down on his bed. He wondered what his aunt had in mind: probably some nasty pill he would have to swallow or some weird powder dissolved in water that he would drink. It did feel good to be lying down. What was taking her so long?
Fiona, meanwhile, removed the jeans and blouse that she had been wearing at breakfast and pulled out a pair of scrubs. They hugged her body tightly. A bit too small for the clinic, she'd decided, but perfectly fine for home use. Alan wasn't likely to enjoy what she had in mind, so anything to make the scene a little more clinical would be helpful. She picked up a box of latex gloves and a tube of KY that she kept on hand and knocked on Alan's door.
"Come in."
Alan was surprised to see his aunt walk in wearing her scrubs but too consumed by embarrassment and discomfort to ask, especially when he noticed that she was carrying a box of gloves.
"Um, do you have a pill or something?"
"I know that it isn't the most comfortable thing, but I'd like for you to turn over so that I can do a quick examination."
"You already know that I'm constipated or whatever."
She gave him a stern look, and Alan gave in. He turned over on to his stomach and heard the rustling sound as Fiona snapped a pair of gloves onto her hands and pulled them tight.
"Alan, could you please stop being difficult? I need you to pull your pants down."
He lowered his pants, leaving on his underwear. Fiona reached down and yanked his underwear down, exposing his ass. She was growing impatient as Alan made it more difficult for both of them. She paused for a moment to collect herself and notice how well-defined his ass was. She felt the gloves on her hands, the scrubs on her body. Back to nurse mode. She lubricated her finger.
"I'm going to give you a quick exam to make sure we don't need to go to the ER. The lubricant may feel cool."
Alan winced as he felt his aunt's hand spread him open then the cool, lubricated finger on the pucker of his asshole. It rested there for a moment, then pressed inside. Fiona could tell that he was backed up, but he was not impacted. This was nothing that an enema wouldn't fix. She took her time. At the clinic she was known for being thorough. She made a mental note that when she checked him after he'd expelled, she could use the opportunity to quickly check his prostate. Alan was surprised that the finger wiggling inside him didn't hurt. In fact, the firm, methodical prodding might even feel good if the situation was different. His cock, with a mind of its own, began to stiffen. He was thankful that it could remain buried in the bundle of sheets beneath him.
Fiona removed her finger from Alan's ass and stripped her gloves from her hands.
"The good news is that this is nothing urgent. We can take care of things here. The bad news is that you're getting an enema."
