The note on the London telephone box said simply “Miss Rivers” and the phrase “water sports” with a telephone number. I dialed the number and asked if Miss Rivers were there. The woman who answered the telephone identified herself as the maid, and asked “Can I help you dear?” Taking a deep breath, I asked if Miss Rivers gave enemas. “Of course dear, but only to naughty boys,” the maid replied.
I thought for a moment, then decided to plunge ahead. “Ok, then could I make an appointment?” She gave me the address and told me to show up in an hour and a half.
I did, and a very attractive young woman dressed as a maid answered the front door. The maid told me that “Miss Rivers” was apparently running late, and the maid asked if I would come back in a half hour. When I came back, the maid locked the door behind me, telling me I was the last customer of the night. She ushered me to a waiting area, which had a selection of bondage magazines, along with the usual collection of magazines featuring big breasted women.
After a few minutes, a beautiful woman with huge breasts in a tight corset and spike heels opened the door and asked if I were the naughty boy who needed an enema. I told her I was, and she told me it would be 60 pounds for the treatment. I balked a bit at the price, but she assured me it would be well worth it, and that I would leave satisfied. That was enough to convince me, so I gave her my 60 quid, and she told me to wait until I was summoned.
In a while, maybe another 10 minutes, the maid came and ushered me to a dressing room, where I was told to remove all my clothes after she left. I did as I was told, and a minute or two later, Miss Rivers came in another door, and told me to follow her.
She led me into a dimly lit room in front of a large wooden chair. She told me to bend over in front of the chair, while she donned a rubber glove, greased it and stuck her finger slowly inside my ass. She wiggled it around for about 30 seconds, then withdrew. Shortly I felt the insertion of a nozzle.
Then, she backed me up to the chair, and had me sit down. Quickly, she strapped my arms to the arms of the chair, and put another strap across my chest. The leather was cold, and I was quite apprehensive. “Now,” she said, “You’ll get the kind of punishment enema I give to all my nasty boys!”
I was expecting a click, but instead, I heard a “whoosh-squish” type of sound. I turned so I could see and she had a squeeze bulb that was connected to a pail of warm soapsuds. It turns out that enemas in Britain are customarily given with a squeeze pump rather than an enema bag.
She talked to me most of the time, asking if I were feeling the enema, if I was learning my lesson about being a nasty boy, and if I liked her big boobies. I kept answering yes, and she kept on pumping. Finally, after about 20 squeezes which I would estimate at maybe 30 ounces, she asked if I would like to play with her big boobies. “I bet you’d like to take my nipples and suck on them wouldn’t you?” she taunted. “Yes”, I replied.
“It’s going to cost you extra on your enema you know.” She went on to tell me that she would let me get up from my enema now, but if I wanted to suck her nipples I would have to let her give me another 10 squeezes of enema now, then five afterward. Her breasts were so big and beautiful I just could not let that opportunity go to waste. So, I let her give me the extra ten. Then, she moved around directly in front of me, and lifted her left breast out of the cup of the corset. It was huge, with a nice big dark nipple. Since I couldn’t move, she guided the nipple into my mouth and told me to suck. She then told me that if I didn’t suck properly, she would make me take ten extra squeezes instead of the five I still had coming. I must have sucked pretty well, since she told me I had been such a good little boy that I didn’t have to take ten, only the five. She talked a bit about the way I was sucking and told me I looked like the kind of little boy who really wanted milk to flow from her nipples. I nodded my head in agreement and kept on sucking. Eventually she slowly pulled her breast away from my mouth.
She gave me the five slow squeezes of enema, then told me she would release me to go evacuate the enema. She undid the straps and took me into a washroom off the room we were in. She pointed out the button I was to press when I was finished and cleaned up.
I eliminated the enema, washed up and pushed the button.
Shortly, there was a knock on the washroom door, and I opened it to find the maid. She told me that Miss Rivers had asked her to give me a rinse enema to eliminate the remainder of the soapsuds. She had also changed out of her maid’s outfit and was wearing a shirt and slacks. She took me back into the room with the chair, but this time we went to a medical examination type table in the corner. The maid, asked me if I would like any special position for my rinse enema. I asked if I could lie on my back, since I wanted to look at her a bit more. She was quite pretty, and even though she was wearing a loose shirt, I could tell when she moved that she too had large breasts. Hers were quite well restrained though in a solid brassiere.
The maid kept chatting with me, asking me if it were my first trip to England, how I found Miss Rivers, and whether there were places in the States that catered to enema fans. She told me her name was Kelly, and that she liked the business and that she hoped to eventually become a partner with Miss Rivers, and that they would both share a maid. Kelly had a pan of warm water, and was just getting the air out of her enema pump, before bringing it over to me. “Is it true about Americans?” she asked while she was greasing me up for the rinse enema.
“Is what true?” I asked.
“Is it true that American men like big breasts?”
“Well,” I replied, “I can’t speak for all of them, but I sure do! Why?”
Kelly concentrated for a minute on getting the nozzle up inside me and then she pumped a couple of times to make sure it was working. It was, I could feel the water squirting up inside me and it felt great!
“Well, Miss Rivers told me that you really went wild over her boobies.”
“Yes, I guess I did, but don’t most men?”
“Not all, some suck half heartedly, some just lick or kiss, but she told me you sucked just like you wanted milk.” Kelly squeezed again a couple of times, then brushed my semi erect penis. “Did you want milk?”
“Yes,” I told her, reacting to the seventh squirt from her enema pump. “I’ve always been turned on by breast milk.”
“Lots of men think it’s disgusting. Are you sure you’re not just being polite?”
“No way. Just the thought of it turns me on. Why do you ask so much about breast milk?”
“I have lots. Maybe you didn’t know that.” She stroked my now erect penis, squeezed my penis, then squeezed her enema pump. “I used to let men suck my breasts too when I would help Miss Rivers by giving a rinse enema, but I had to stop because I thought it turned men off to get milk. I stopped when my baby was born 4 months ago, and I started breastfeeding. I love breastfeeding and I didn’t want to give it up.”
Neither one of us spoke for a few seconds. Kelly squeeze a couple of enema squirts into me, and shyly looked away from my eyes. Eventually she looked back at me.
“Kelly, I would love to suck your milk.”
She blushed a bit, and let go of the pump to unbutton her shirt. “I’m not wearing anything sexy, just this heavy nursing bra. I hope you don’t mind.” She finished unbuttoning her shirt, and pushed it to one side.
“Kelly, this is so erotic you wouldn’t believe it!” I watched in fascination as she unsnapped the left cup in her nursing bra. The cup fell away, along with a nursing pad to soak up any extra milk. Soon, a drop of milk formed at the nipple and she bent down and directed the nipple into my mouth. I sucked gently, and a whole stream of milk started to flow into my mouth.
“It feels sooo nice,” moaned Kelly. “You’re the only one other than my baby to suck my milk out, and I can’t very easily tell my baby what to do to make me feel good. “Suck a little harder, and run your tongue over the nipple.”
Kelly was directing her breast with one hand, and stroking my penis with the other. “Let me hold your breast, while you play with me and keep squeezing.” She reached for the pump, and started squeezing in time with my sucking. Her milk just came in torrents.
“Suck me dry, I have plenty of milk for my baby at home.” I felt a bit guilty because I hadn’t even thought about stealing the baby’s dinner. So, I sucked and she squeezed, and before I had emptied her left breast, I was a little too full of enema to avoid going to the toilet.
She reluctantly let me up, but made me promise to empty the right breast before leaving.
I went to the toilet, and cleaned up after evacuating the rinse enema. Kelly was waiting, and she lead me back into the darkened reception area. We were the only people left in the flat, Miss Rivers had gone out to a party. Kelly lead me to the couch or “chesterfield” as she called it. She had me lie down with my head in her lap, while she played with my near bursting penis, and fed me her sweet milk by holding her right breast in my mouth.
It took about fifteen minutes for me to nearly empty her breast, and then I had to return to the left breast just to drain a few more drops. “I’ll be full again in 3 hours, and if my baby isn’t hungry, I have to pump it out anyway. I’m just one of those women who seem to produce more milk than my baby needs. Sometimes it gets painful, like tonight, I really needed you to empty my breasts, or I would have had to use the breast pump.
Kelly asked when I was returning to the states, and I told her I had another week left. She asked if I would call her in a few days, and we could get together for some fun at her place. I’ll tell you that story later.
Miss Rivers Part II
At Kelly’s Flat
Kelly met me at the door of her flat, not far from the Bayswater tube station. She was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, and of course I could make out the outline of her large breasts in their 36 DD nursing bra. She had asked me to call since we met at Miss Rivers’ place, and when I called the next day, she quickly invited me over for dinner that evening. Her 4 month old daughter had spent the day with Kelly’s aunt who was looking after the girl, and the daughter was now sleeping peacefully.
“Hi Love,” she said as she kissed me on the cheek, “Pour yourself a drink and just let me do a couple of things in the kitchen.”
I poured a mild drink, and went into the living room and sat down. Kelly soon came out of the kitchen, and sat down beside me, telling me dinner would be ready in about 20 minutes. She reached over and stroked my cheek and told me how special she had felt the previous evening at Miss River’s. “I thought it was special too Kelly, it was one of the most beautiful things that could happen between a man and a woman, and we haven’t even gone to bed with each other.”
“I know what you mean, I just couldn’t stop thinking of you when I got home last night. I must have climaxed 3 or 4 times just reliving the feeling of you sucking milk from my breast.” She smiled sweetly, “I hope you’ll have room for some more after dinner.”
“You bet,” I said, thinking about the sweet taste of her milk.
We hugged and held each other for a few minutes, until she announced that dinner would be served shortly. We had a meat pie, fresh salad, and steamed vegetables. It was delicious. Then she excused herself to pour the coffee. I added milk and sugar, and took a sip. I recognized the taste immediately. I looked up at her to find a sparkle in her eyes, and she nodded yes. It was her milk that was in the coffee. “I was going to run to the store, but then I thought you might like some of this milk better.”
“I’m just as happy you didn’t go to the store, it tastes much better this way.”
We cleared the dishes away, and I couldn’t help but ask her, how she managed to feed her daughter while she was working, and how she maintained any sort of breastfeeding schedule. “I hope I’m not being too prying in my questions Kelly, but I’ve read a lot about breastfeeding and I know the importance of a schedule, and that the baby will determine how much milk you generate.”
“Yes, I have read that too, but I can’t be feeding her every three hours. I use a
