I was puttering around in the flower bed out front, when I heard a voice behind me.

   “Hi, can you give me some gardening advice?”

   It was Michelle Higgins, my neighbor from a few doors down the court. We’d talked a bit here and there since she moved in.  She was in her late twenties, divorced, with a little girl.  l turned around and looked, enjoying the view. She was about shoulder height on me, slender, with long, reddish blonde hair. As usual when she was gardening or washing the car, she had on a rather skimpy bikini top and a pair of shorts. These showed off a nice, rounded pair of breasts and a truly gorgeous bottom to advantage. This particular outfit was working even better than usual. The cups of the top were perfectly designed to afford glimpses down within, and her shorts were cut high enough to reveal the lower curves of her buns. They were also tight enough that I could discern a faint outline of a mound in front.

   I smiled my most neighborly smile. “Of course”, I said, “Not that I’m any kind of expert, but if it’s something I can figure out…”

    She got a slightly disgusted look on her face, and said, “It’s bagworms. I’ve got this huge mess on my laurel bush, and I can’t stand going in there.”

   “Never fear, Ma’am,” I replied in my best Lone Ranger imitation. “I’ve got jest the thing fer them pesky critters.”  Michelle giggled a bit. In a more normal tone, I went on, “Actually, the best thing for those little suckers is something like alcohol or acetone – dissolves those sticky silk bags, too.”

   Michelle watched as I popped the trunk on my car, and opened the first-aid kit. I got out a pair of exam gloves – bagworms are really disgusting – and a big bottle of alcohol. I saw her eyeing the contents of the box, and said “Since I spend at least a week in a tent every year, plus shorter trips, I’ve kind of got a whole medicine chest in here”, pointing to the thermometers, allergy pills, and other such items in among the Ace bandage, finger splint, etcetera.

   She noticed the rectal thermometer. “Hm, I haven’t seen one of those thermometers in years.”

   “Well, the electronic one’s got a battery that can go dead. This kind works both ways, and the oral  ones are mouth only.”  I closed the case, and bagworm destruction items in hand, led the way back up the court toward her place. “Besides, if you’re dealing with heatstroke or hypothermia, there’s only one way to get a core temperature…”

  “I guess so”, she said.

   I had her go and get a trash bag, and watched her buns disappear into the house while thinking of the thermometer, and tube of K-Y, back in the first-aid kit. When she came out, I used my longest knife to cut loose the cocoon. Then, I scraped the bagworms into the trash bag, and doused them and the bush liberally with alcohol. Dumping in the gloves, I tied off the bag for
disposal.

   I went into ten-year-old-on-playground mode. “There you go, Michelle – just goes to show that guys are good for something. Like opening jars, and dealing with gross stuff.  Anytime you need something like that handled…”

   “Thanks, and I’m glad to know I can borrow you – I don’t have a guy around at the moment.”

    I told her she was welcome, then went back to my yard and resumed my chores…

Three months later

   I dumped the last of the groceries on the kitchen counter, and went out to close my car trunk. Looking up, I saw Michelle pull in. I waved, and watched as she got out of the car. She came toward me, with a concerned look on her face.

  “Can you help me with Amy?”,  she asked.

   I said “sure, what’s the matter?” I got a bit worried myself, since Amy was a nice kid.

   “We just got back from the doctor. She got a couple of really nasty shots in her bottom, and  says she can’t walk. Can you help me get her into the house?”

   I winced in sympathy. “Ow, I can imagine – when I was 6,  our doctor just had to say the word ‘penicillin’ to start me into a screaming fit. Sure, I think I can carry her without bumping her bottom.”

   We walked over to her car, where Amy was lying on her stomach across the back seat. The shots must have been fairly recent, since she was still sniffling. Michelle opened the door.

   “Amy, honey, Jim’s going to carry you up to bed, so you don’t have to walk. Think you can handle that?”

   She nodded, looking up at me with wide eyes. I told her to grab me around the neck, then got her out of the car. I managed to get her cradled in my arms without once touching her bottom.

  “There, doing okay?” I asked. She nodded, still sniffling. “I know,” I said. “I hate getting shots there too.”

   This was my first time going into Michelle’s townhouse, and I looked around. It was much neater than mine, of course. Good furniture, solid and not gaudy. Layout a bit different from mine, another of the 3 or 4 floor plans they’d used. I headed upstairs, with Michelle directing me to the front bedroom. I gently laid Amy on the bed, turning so that she wound up on her side. She promptly rolled on her tummy and buried her head in the pillow.

  Michelle and I went back downstairs.

   “Jim, thank you so much,” she said. “I don’t know if I could stand to make her climb those stairs.”

   “It was no trouble at all,” I replied. “In fact, is there anything else I can do? Pick up her prescription?”

  “Oh, could you? She needs some medicine, and I want to be around, kind of wait on her hand and foot for a bit till she settles in.”

   “Sure, no problem.” I looked at the prescription she handed me, and said “Wow, she’s going to be taking a lot.”

   “Yes, and getting one pill down hers a struggle. She gags and chokes like you’re trying to poison her.”

   I looked more closely at the scrawl on the prescriptions. On two of the three, I could make out “(illegible) PR (more scribbling)”. I said “Well, two of these aren’t going to be a problem for her then. ‘PR’ means they go in her bottom.”

   She stared at me. “What?  Not shots! I don’t know how to do that!”

   “No, they’re suppositories – you just push them up into her rectum.”

   “Oh. They won’t hurt?”

   “Nope – just slide right on in. They’re probably an antibiotic or something that would tear up her stomach.”

   “That reminds me, the doctor said to take her temperature in her rectum. Can I use a regular thermometer for that?”

   “One with a stubby tip, yes. The thin-tipped oral ones, no. Need me to get one?”

   “Would you? I gave away the one I used on her when she was big enough for armpit temperatures.”

   “Sure, I’ll be right back.”

    Prescriptions and money in hand, I went off to the supermarket/pharmacy. I asked at the counter about the third prescription, and they said they could supply it as a liquid. I figured that this would be better for Amy, and had them make it up in that form.

  While they were filling the prescriptions, I picked up a liquid medicine dosage syringe, the rectal thermometer, and a tube of KY. As an afterthought, I picked up a wind-up cooking timer in the baking section. The clerk shook her head over the items, and said,

   “Poor kid – seems like half of the third grade at the school down the street came down with the same staph infection. I’ll have to remember to tell folks about the liquid, the pill form of that drug would choke a horse.”

   I thanked her, paid, and took the meds, receipt, and change back to Michelle. She looked relieved  when I explained about the liquid medicine and the dosage squirter. Then, she eyed the two boxes of suppositories dubiously.

   “I’m not sure I can do that”, she said.

   “It’s easy – no harder than taking her temperature. Unwrap the suppositories first, and have ’em on a tray with the thermometer. Soon as you pull the thermometer from Amy’s bottom, slip in the suppositories. Here’s a sneaky hint – put them in backwards.”

   “Backwards? Why?”

   “When it goes in, her anus will want to squeeze shut. With the pointy end out, the squeezing will pull the suppository inside, without having to put your finger all the way in.”

   “Oh, OK – that makes sense. I just hope I can remember how to take her temperature.”

   “That’s easy enough. Put her over your lap, pull down her PJ bottoms, and slip in the thermometer. I got the egg timer for her. If she can set it for three minutes and time herself, it’ll feel less like she’s lying there forever with something invading her bottom.”

   “That’s a great idea! I used to hate just lying there, waiting forever…”

   I stepped firmly on the images this brought to mind, and asked,

   “When’s her first temperature and medicine?”

   Michelle looked at the clock. “Now, actually – can you coach me?”

   “Sure, and if Amy minds me being there, I’ll step out of the room before you inset the thermometer.”

   I helped her open the packages, and showed her how to firm up the suppositories by dipping in cold water. We filled the dosage syringe, then put the whole load of items in a cake pan. Michelle added a glass of juice to wash away the liquid medicine.

   The first part went perfectly. Amy said Ahh, Michelle squirted in the liquid, and Amy gulped her juice. Then came time for her temperature. Michelle picked up the thermometer, shook it down and reached for the KY. She sat on the bed, and patted her lap.

   “Come on, honey – time to take your temperature. Lie down here, and we’ll get your pj bottoms down.”

   Amy went ballistic. A flood of tears started, as she wailed,

   “Nooooo! Not there, it huuuuurrts!!!”

   Michelle said, “Don’t be silly – it does not hurt!”

   Something crossed my mind from a chat with a nurse once.

   “Amy, are you worried that it’s like a shot?”

   “YES! It’ll HURT!”

   “No, it doesn’t go in the same way. It may feel funny, but it won’t hurt.”

    Amy was not to be convinced. When she saw the suppositories, it deepened her suspicion. Finally, I suggested to Michelle that we talk outside the bedroom. Picking up the offending tray, she joined me.

   “Jim, can you think of some way to convince her this doesn’t hurt?”

   “No, short of showing her. And I don’t know if you want to take your own temperature in front of her.”

   “Wait, that’s a great idea! Can you do it for me, so she sees just what will happen?”

   “Guess I could, if you don’t have a problem with it.” Meanwhile, of course, I was yelling “Down, Boy!” to certain mental and physical parts of myself…

   “Could you, please?”

   How could I refuse a chance like this?

   “Let me run home for an exam glove. I’ve got some glycerin suppositories too. They’re just laxatives – think you can handle a trip to the potty in the interest of the demonstration?”

   “You can give me a suppository? That’ll be even better! She’ll see that those don’t hurt, either.”

   “I’ll be right back…”

   Keeping myself down to a brisk walk, I headed back to my own medicine cabinet. I returned, and we went back upstairs.  Amy glared at us, covers pulled up to her chin. I noted that she’d recovered to where she could lie on her back. Michelle started the explanation.

   “Amy, hon, I know you’re scared of the thermometer and medicine, but we’ve got to do this so you’ll get better. To show you it doesn’t hurt, Jim’s going to do it to me, and you can watch. OK?”

   Amy’s eyes widened, then she nodded. We helped her up out of bed. I piled a couple of pillows on the girl-sized armchair in the room, in consideration of her no doubt still tender bottom. Then, I pulled on the exam glove, explaining that mommy and I didn’t feel like swapping any out-of-family germs around. We positioned the armchair so Amy would be able to see her mother from behind when we were in position. I had an idea, and handed Amy the timer.

  “Amy, you can help. When I’m taking mom’s temperature, you can time for us.”

  As Michelle was hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her sweat pants, I grabbed a couple more pillows. One went where her head would be, the other on my lap. She raised an eyebrow, and I said,

   “It’ll be a bit more comfortable, and raise your bottom some…”

   She nodded, with a bit of a smile and a flutter of one eyelid that might have been a wink.  She slid her sweat pants and panties down to her knees, and got across my lap.  The second pillow turned out to have been a really good idea. Her creamy buns were showing just enough late season tanline to tell me that she liked french-cut bikinis. She also liked to work out, apparently. Those buns and the thighs below were nice and firm. I damped a surge of lust, and picked up the thermometer.

   Explaining each step, I shook down the thermometer, then lubricated the bulb. Amy nodded as I made each point, explaining that you had to get the mercury below 96, then put on the KY so it wouldn’t hurt.  I had Michelle spread her buns for me. Suppressing a surge of lust at the perfect pucker she revealed, I touched the tip of the thermometer to the center.

   “Michelle, when you’re taking Amy’s temperature, point the thermometer ‘through’ her bottom, toward her belly button.  Then slide it slowly in, just like this…”

   I suited my action to the words, twirling it between my fingers as I inserted.  Michelle gasped a bit, then wiggled her bottom.

  “Rotating it side-to-side helps it go in easier… Oh – didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  She actually let out a bit of a nervous giggle.

   “N-no, it just tickled a bit, going in.”

   “How’s it feel?”

   “I can hardly feel it at all, now it’s in. How long are we going for?”

   “Let’s do it for real. Amy, got the timer? Good. Turn the knob till the arrow points at the big 3, that’s 3 minutes.”

   Amy set the timer, with all the solemnity appropriate for an 8-year-old entrusted with an important task. I cupped my hand over Michelle’s bottom, thermometer between my fingers, in the appropriate Dr. Spock fashion. To pass the time, I asked Amy about school, and what she’d done over the weekend. Amy asked a couple of times how the thermometer felt, and Michelle told her that it felt okay – just a bit funny going in. The timer rang, I removed the thermometer, and wiped it on a handy kleenex.

   “Hmm”, I murmured quietly to Michelle, “looks like that glycerin suppository may actually do you some good when we put it in”

   She hissed at me to be good, and got up so I could show Amy the reading on the thermometer – 99.8, right near average rectal. I sat back down, Michelle lay back across my lap, and I told Amy I was going to show her how the medicine went in. I picked up an unwrapped glycerin suppository, lubricated the tip, and said,

   “Now, it just goes in like the thermometer…”, placing the tip to Michelle’s anus, “and don’t worry – your mom has a bigger bottom than you, so I have to push it in deeper…”, as I slowly buried my finger to the knuckle. This time, there was no mistaking the quivering of Michelle’s sphincter as I pushed my gloved finger in. I could also hear and feel her breathing getting harder. “Theeere, that doesn’t feel bad, does it?”

   “Nooooo, that’s ok… Easier than some big pills I’ve had to take, even. Amy, are you ready for your temperature and suppositories now?”

   “Not yet! Jim has to give you two, just like I’m gonna get!”

   I looked down. “Michelle, are you okay with that?”

   “Well… aren’t two of those too much?”

   “Not with glycerin’s – it all comes out the same in the end. Ready for your second?”

   She gave me a disgusted look, for the joke. “Okay. Long as I won’t overdose or something.”

   I inserted the second suppository even more slowly, letting Amy see it go in. I buried my finger, again making the point that it had to go in deeper because mom had a bigger bottom. This got an indignant sounding growl from mom, whom I reassured with a comment that it was a NICE bottom, though. This time, I also left my finger in for a bit, telling Michelle that one should make sure the suppository stayed in until the first urge to expel it passed. This time, Michelle’s anal tightening and quivering were more pronounced. I slowly withdrew, pulled off the glove, and let her up.

   “Okay, Michelle – Your turn to do Amy.”

   She sat down, and I helped Amy to lie across her lap. Amy lifted her hips, and Michelle slid down her pajama bottoms. She still had a couple of angry red spots, one on each cheek, from the shots. I whistled, and said,

   “Amy, I can see why you were worried about this stuff hurting – I’d hate to get shots like that too. Don’t worry, though – this won’t hurt at all.”

    Michelle had the thermometer shaken down, and lubricated. She asked Amy to pull her buns apart a little, and the girl did so. I pointed my finger at the angle Michelle needed, and she slid the thermometer smoothly into Amy’s bottom, twirling it as I had with her.

   Amy surprised us with, of all things, a giggle. “Oooooh, mommy, that TICKLES!”

   I handed Amy the timer. “Remember how many minutes you get?”

   “Three,” she said, setting it and watching it begin to tick.

   “How’s it feel in there? Doesn’t hurt, does it?”

   “No, it’s ok…”

    We resumed our chat about school, as the thermometer registered. Michelle made sure to avoid the injection sites as she held it still in Amy’s rectum. The timer rang, and Michelle removed it and wiped it off.

   “Hmm, 102.6. No wonder you’re not feeling good, honey…”

    She showed Amy the thermometer, rotating it so the girl could see the numbers.

   “See, there’s 102, and the mercury was up to that third little mark, so it’s .6 — the marks are .2 each.”

   Amy smiled, tickled that she’d learned some big-girl knowledge. I handed Michelle a suppository, and squirted a heavy drop of KY on the squared-off end. She asked Amy if she was ready for her medicine, and got a quiet “yes” in response.

   Putting the blunt end to the girl’s anus, she slowly pushed in until the taper at the back started to penetrate. She looked up at me, and mouthed silently, “How far?”

   I held up a finger, pointing to just the tip. She slipped the suppository in, and left her finger in for a couple of seconds. The next suppository went in just as smoothly.

  All this time, Amy was just lying there quietly with her eyes closed, head on the pillow.  I looked down as Michelle withdrew and wiped off her finger, and asked, “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Nothing like a shot…”

   Amy smiled.

   “Those are easier than pills, even. I hate when mommy gives me pills.”

  Mommy, meanwhile, was getting a look of consternation on her face. She hurriedly pulled up Amy’s PJ bottoms, and helped her up and into bed, then departed hastily toward the bathroom. Amy watched her go with a puzzled expression on her face.

   “What’s wrong with mommy?”, she asked.

   “Well, you know those suppositories I gave her, so you could watch?” Amy nodded. “I couldn’t give her any of yours. She doesn’t have that infection that you do, and you need all your medicine, yourself. Soo, I had some that make you go when you’re plugged up. One of them is guaranteed to make you poop. And you made me give mommy two…”

   Amy collapsed back on the bed, in a hysterical fit of giggles.

   “Poor mommy – and she had hers in while she put mine in…”

   I had to chuckle a bit myself, then put on a stern face.

   “Meanwhile, young lady, it’s nap time for you. Mom will be in to kiss you goodnight when she’s done.”

    I picked up our improvised instrument tray, turned off the light, and left Amy’s room, closing the door. Michelle appeared at the bathroom door. I looked her over.

    “You OK?”

    “Oh – yes. I guess I needed those suppositories though, for real. I haven’t been able to go for a couple of days, worrying about Amy.”

    “Feeling better now?”

    “Lots. I’ll have to come over next time I’m backed up. Hey, I’ve got to get Amy tucked in and cook us some dinner. Thanks a bunch.”

    “Any time, and if you’re ever blocked up again, I’ve got a solution for that…”

    “I just bet you do. See you later…”

    I took my leave, hastening home for a serious hand-and-wrist workout, accompanied by some favorites among the jpeg collection on the PC.

A Bit Later…

   I finished dinner, tossed the dishes in the washer, and settled down at the PC for some heavy online time. As I was starting to download some goodies, the other line rang.

   “Jim? It’s Michelle… Can you come over?”

   “I’ll be right there – is something wrong with Amy?”

   “She’s coming along ok. The little minx won’t take her medicine, though. Says I can’t do her until I’ve had mine. And even if I did believe in spanking, I couldn’t do it after those shots.”

   I’d been taking a swig of coffee when Michelle started speaking. When I finished choking, I wiped the coffee from my face as best I could, and said “All right. I’ll be right over. This time, I’ll bring a couple of generic hemorrhoid suppositories – no active ingredients, and you can hold ’em in all night if you want.”

   “Good”, she said. “I don’t need any more sudden trips to the pot.”

    I changed shirts quickly, grabbed a strip of hemorrhoid suppositories from the box, and headed over. Michelle was in a robe, over a nightie. She let me in quickly, and we headed upstairs. I suggested that she remove the robe, and she did. The nightie was sheer enough for me to see that she didn’t have panties on.

    This time, Amy just sat up as far as she could at the head of the bed, and I moved far enough down to be clear of her feet. I didn’t bother with a pillow on my lap, either. Michelle lay down, and I slid the hem of her nightie up off her buns. I shook down the thermometer slowly, enjoying the view, and feeling her warmth across my lap. Finally, I lubricated the bulb, parted her cheeks a bit, and slipped in the thermometer. As usual, I rotated it going in, but this time I gave it quite a bit more movement. Michelle’s buns quivered, and I felt her tense. Finally, I was satisfied with the thermometer’s position, and had Amy start the timer.

   I realized that Amy was starting to take this for granted – she soon shifted her gaze away from her mother’s bottom, and even picked up a book she’d been reading. I took advantage of Amy’s inattention to stroke the thermometer in and out of Michelle’s anus, feeling the quivers. I also gave it a few experimental twirls. This caused Michelle to have to exert some serious control over her breathing. The timer rang, and I pulled out the thermometer. I cleaned it, and showed Michelle and Amy the reading – 99.4. A bit cool, but then I’d been moving it instead of holding it still. I then picked up the first of the two suppositories I’d unwrapped, and parted Michelle’s cheeks, suppository poised.

   “Wait a second”, she said. “Aren’t you going to lube it?”

   “Actually, these things are solid lube – don’t worry, it’s a whole different feeling from a glycerin.”

   “Well, I sincerely hope so! I haven’t ah, been cleared out like that in ages!”

   “Well, just relax, this won’t hurt a bit…”

   I placed the tip of the suppository on her anus, which tensed. I stroked the pointed end around a bit, letting her pucker quiver its way into relaxing. Then, I slowly inserted a quarter inch or so. Michelle gasped, and this time the squirming and heavy breathing were more pronounced. I slowly buried my finger as deep as it would go, pushing the rapidly melting suppository deep into Michelle’s enticing bottom.

  Leaving my finger buried for a bit, I stroked it in and out a little, then rotated it as I withdrew. Taking up the second suppository, I placed it at her now slick opening.

   “Ready for two?”, I asked.

   “Y-yessss, do it…”

   Deliberately but steadily, I pushed it in. This time around, I’d done everything with my index finger, leaving the middle finger clean. I let the knuckle of that finger brush up against Michelle’s forward opening, and was not really very surprised to find a distinct trace of moisture. I withdrew the index finger a bit from her rectum, and straightened the middle, then slowly, stealthily, eased the two fingers into their respective holes. This got a reaction – Michelle gasped, and both sets of muscles clamped on my fingers. I asked, “Feel ok?”

   “Yessss… but let’s finish up here and take care of that later.”

   Amy looked up, as I withdrew my fingers. “Is it my turn now?”, she said.

   Michelle got up off my lap, and got Michelle’s oral liquid dose ready while I cleaned the thermometer. Again, Amy made a bit of a face over the liquid, but a swallow of juice handled that. This time, though, she flopped herself down across Michelle’s lap without a fuss. I shook down and lubed the thermometer, then handed it to Michelle. She inserted it, getting the same giggle from Amy as when it had “tickled” her going in the first time. I excused myself, went to the kitchen and got a glass of water, then hit the guest bathroom downstairs to do a bit of tucking and arranging.

   Coming out, I heard Michelle tell Amy good-night, and the clicks of light switch and door. She came down the stairs, set down the improvised instrument tray, and put her hands on her hips.

   “All right, Doctor Fingers, what was THAT all about?”

   “Well, it certainly felt like you wanted it. And don’t worry, Amy didn’t see the second one. I checked her viewing angle before I did it.”

   “Ummm, okay… and it did feel nice.”

   “Think you might need a couple more suppositories before bed?”

   “Could be – let me finish cleaning up.”

   We washed things up, put the medications back in the fridge, and I took her hand and led her upstairs to the master bedroom.

   “Okay, Michelle. Now that Amy’s not watching, we’ll change positions. Get on your knees, then put your head all the way down on the pillow.”

    She complied, and with the lightest of pushing, the nighty slid right down around her waist, leaving her elevated buns bare. I took up the first suppository, and slowly buried it. I added a second for good measure, this time putting fingers in front and back. Then, I got down to business.

   Michelle began thrusting back against my hand as I started a rapid in-and-out stroking of her vagina and rectum. My other hand slid under her, and cupped her breasts, alternating from one to the other. As she relaxed, I added another finger in front. By this time, her bottom was bouncing around as if she were on a trampoline. Suddenly, her whole body went rigid, and she clamped down again on my fingers. The frozen pose continued for a couple of moments, then she collapsed, shuddering, onto her tummy.

   I withdrew my fingers, and patted her bottom. She rolled over and grabbed me, flinging her arms around my neck and clinging. I held her till her breathing quieted, then slowly released her. She walked me downstairs, and kissed me good-bye at the door.

   “Good night, Jim – Thanks for everything.”

   “My pleasure, m’dear. And let me know next time you get backed up. As I said, I’ve got a solution for that…”

    “I’m sure you do – I’ll call.”

    I wandered home, thinking I’d have to do some more working out…