Mar 032011

Making coffee enema mixtureI need to stop having dates that end with me apologizing profusely. It’s great to be very experimental and adventurous around sex, but not all experiments are successful. I try to be careful, but it’s clear that adventure means increased risk. Recently, one of those risks had Harold ejaculating blood. The failure of yesterday’s experiment was characterized by Harold lying on the floor in front of the toilet, shaking and covered in a cold sweat. (I’m so sorry Darling – it was pretty hot right up to that, right?) I had really good intentions.

See, I had this fantasy about giving Harold an enema. He enjoys them, maybe even eroticizes enemas. Also, a couple of months ago I acquired an awesome 8 ounce chrome stainless steel flushing syringe that I’ve been dying to try. We like to do some anal play from time to time. I thought I’d make a scene of it. I had big plans! So I did all of my research. I looked at a variety of enema sites, both naturopathic and kinky. (My favorite was for overall good beginner information.) I looked at a bunch of recipes and their intended effects. I narrowed my selection down to three. And of those, Harold picked a coffee enema.

Administering the coffee enemaNo problem. While Harold was in the shower I boiled some water and ground some organic coffee. When I went to mix them together, I faltered. I know the recipes said two tablespoons (or was that teaspoons?) per cup (or was that quart?) of water. Normally, I’m pretty fastidious about this kind of stuff, but I was feeling excited and impatient. So I just dumped the contents of the grinder into two cups of boiling water. I added a bit of salt because I had read that salt helped keep the kidneys from absorbing all of the water. Good right?

I took all of my equipment upstairs, where Harold was fresh from the shower, busy shaving. I set up everything I thought I would need for the scene I had in mind. And I realized that the enema mixture was still too hot. I mixed in some saline solution I made for electro play, until my enema mixture was 103.5 degrees by the baby thermometer. I got Harold on the bed on hands and knees and tried to draw up the enema. It didn’t work like a normal syringe would. Fuck. I’m feeling less than suave at this point, but Harold is patient.

Ball whackingI take everything into the bathroom and pour the liquid into the syringe. That works well. Back to Harold who is still waiting with his ass in the air. I spend something like 5 minutes lubing him up, but it feels nice and we both like it. Then I try the syringe. I can’t get it deeply enough into his asshole. Damn. Okay, I remove the “splash guard” and put a longer tip on the syringe. That works. But then I realize how hard it is to operate the syringe. I’m trying to be nice and gentle, but it takes almost all of my upper body strength to push the plunger in. Still, the mood is working. It feels sexy.

I get most of the fluid into Harold’s intestinal tract. This is good. We’re both into this. While he’s on his knees, his scrotum is a tempting target. I have to squeeze his balls a few times. No, I have to punch his balls! And hit them with a mallet. This is really fun! Harold seems to enjoy it as well. He doesn’t feel a sense of urgency about evacuating his bowels yet, so I go sit in front of his face. I believe oral sex is enhanced by knowing you have a limited amount of time.

Oral sexAll of a sudden, Harold’s ready. He makes haste for the bathroom. I finish myself off with a vibrator. I go to check on him. He is lying on the floor in front of the toilet. His eyes look glazed. A film of sweat covers his body. The apologies begin. He has intense cramping from the coffee. I made it too strong. It should have been 1 tablespoon per quart. The sexy feeling is definitely gone. On the plus side, Harold’s bowels are quite clean after spending a while shaking and sweating on the toilet. (I’m so sorry!) He actually lost a whole pound. I know because he weighed himself before and after. (I’m really sorry!)

I am very sorry that Harold’s reaction took him out of the scene and caused him unintentional distress, but when I think about it, it isn’t so bad. He recovered quickly and we did go on to have sex, albeit much simpler than my original plan. We then sat in the bath together for nearly an hour and talked, which was fabulous. What I realize is, experimental sex is just that – an experiment. The outcome is uncertain. Sometimes it’s wonderful and sometimes it’s not. I happen to like the risk for myself, but not at my partner’s expense.

Suffering on the toiletBut wait. This is actually the agreement that Harold and I have with each other – to take risks, to be experimental, to support each other’s sexual exploration. I felt safe trying out new equipment on him because I knew that we could maintain the energy if it took me a while to work through the bugs. I never worry about looking silly or being judged with Harold. Most of the time, the things we try out together work beautifully. I’ve continued to grow as a person and as a Top because of this freedom to explore.

I’ve learned something really valuable here. (Besides the proper coffee to water ratio!) I’m a curious person. I’m going to keep being adventurous. I’m careful to minimize the risks to the best of my ability. I take responsibility for unforeseen outcomes. And so does Harold. He trusts me. He participates willingly. I don’t need to flog myself over this. That’s Harold’s job.