I am a Closet Druid!
My name is Jennifer and I am married to a wonderful man, John. We met in my Freshman year at college and I fell in love immediately. John graduated that next year and found a good job in the same town as the college. So, we continued our developing relationship until we were married shortly after I graduated. John has a good job and has blessed me with a fine house and two handsome sons. We are somewhat active in our community and we have a good life. I just love being a stay at home mom.
I was born in England (The United Kingdom) in a Cornish community called Port Isaac. I started school there and remember it as a happy place. There are a couple of TV shows made in the UK, now being shown here in the US, that take place in and around Port Isaac. I am thrilled to watch them and I can even remember some of the scenic views that they show. I came to the United States with my parents and sisters when my father’s employer saw the need for him to work from ‘over there’. I have become a United States Citizen, as well as my parents and my sister Meagan. My sister, Eileen has not, however, and we sometimes refer to her as “The Illegal Immigrant.” Apparently not too many people sneak into the USA from England, as her immigration status is not viewed as a serious problem.
I try my best to keep fit and attractive for John and healthy for my children. I exercise regularly, watch my diet, and try to stay up on current fashions. I envy some of my neighbors who have an ‘olive’ complexion. I am, at best, pasty white and unable to get much more than a severe burn in the summer. Tanning is definitely not a British sport. I believe that it takes a lot of work to keep a marriage happy. Consequently, I try to fuck his bloody brains out at every possible opportunity. John seems to like this approach and I find it quite satisfying. Although, with two young boys at home, I sometimes need to be somewhat creative.
My mother is originally from Wales. She grew up speaking English and Welsh. Her mother instilled in her certain traditions that she has tried to pass on to my sisters and I. Mum is very much in-touch with nature and the things that surround us. I cannot speak Welsh but I know a few words and phrases that Mum taught to us. She taught me some prayers and some rituals. I have tried to follow her lead in my home life and in keeping up the house and garden. Having a living and productive garden is very important to us. The garden is a source of nourishment and medicine for both the body and the mind.
One of the ‘absolutely required’ observances is the wife’s “Cleansing and Penance” ritual. As Mum pointed out; we are so very blessed to have good husbands, good healthy children, good homes and good families. As women (the stronger sex) we are responsible for giving thanks to the Earth Mother for all the blessings that we have received. We observe this ritual on the occasion of the Equinox, when the length of the day and the night are equal; when the forces of good and evil are in perfect balance. All married women of child bearing years are required to perform this ritual unless they are incapacitated by imminent birth (you are pregnant) or serious disease. Being on your period is not an excuse. Mum said: “When the Menses stop, you may also”. This means that when you reach the age of menopause, you are no longer required to observe the ritual but you may, at your own choice. She emphasized that ‘may’ stop means that you can continue into your older years. Judging from the way I see Mum acting around the times of the Equinox, I’m guessing that she has decided to continue with the observance. Good for her and good for Pappy!
“Cleansing and Penance” means just that. On the day of the equinox, the wife is to work diligently in the garden. In the Spring she should clear the accumulated clutter from the winter, remove the remnants of dead plants and prepare the soil for planting. In the Fall she should finish harvesting any remaining crops and herbs, cover and protect any plants that will live through the winter and make sure that the garden is protected from the coming cold weather. Cleansing also includes the wife herself. For this, she must be “Scrubbed” and “Cleaned out” by her husband. ‘Scrubbed’ is a harsh word and Mum allows that in its current meaning, it is to be interpreted as ‘thoroughly washed’. ‘Cleaned out’, however, means just that. The wife must be clean ‘on-the-inside’ and it implies that she is not to do it herself. Her husband is to do it, and water is to be involved.
Penance, on the other hand, means doing something relatively uncomfortable in payment (or repayment) for all the wrongs committed by us and blessings given to us. Sometime, in the long distant past, this ritual penance has been interpreted to mean getting a good arse rogering. Yes, this means anal intercourse. If you think that this is hard for me to explain to you, imagine how it must have been for Mum to explain, to each of us girls, as we became about sixteen years old. She still gets bahis firmaları a little squirmy when we speak the word ‘rituals’ around her. And, the act of penance is to be done without speaking. The ritual is to be observed in silence. Anyway, that’s the long and the short of it.
The Equinox happens twice a year in March and September. On the day of the equinox, I work out in the garden. We have a relatively small (by British standards) garden in the back yard. It is about forty feet by forty five feet. The garden is fenced in and has a gate. It’s a lot of work keeping it up but I thoroughly enjoy it. I am proud of the vegetables that I raise and the herbs are very useful in my cooking, for medicinal purposes and as gifts. I get most of the seeds, plants and supplies from the local garden shop. Mum does, on occasion, get some seeds from ‘the old country’. She still has a few friends that she corresponds with in the UK and she swaps seeds and other things with them. This seed exchange might not be completely legal, so please don’t tell anyone about it.
On the day of the ritual, I traditionally make a pot roast for dinner. John loves pot roast and I do too. When we have a pot roast on a day other than an equinox, John looks at me with his ‘knowing grin’. But I pretend that I don’t know what he is thinking about. When we go to my parents for dinner, I’m always fearful that Mum will serve a pot roast and that will set John off to asking questions about other rituals. So far, we have avoided this problem and maintained a healthy diet.
Anyway, I time the pot roast to be ready shortly after John gets home from work. It’s funny, after all these years, John has never been away or had to work overtime on an equinox day; smart guy. I always arrange for the boys to visit (and stay with) John’s parents for the night. I deliver them while the pot roast is slow cooking and arrange for ‘Dad’ to bring them to school the next day. On the way back home, I stop at the pharmacy and get a new fresh tube of J-Y jelly. When I get home, I put my hair up and change into a simple house dress. By tradition, I rub a little potting soil onto my cheek and forehead. I wear no slip, no stockings, no jewelry and no knickers.
I lay out and arrange the ‘equipment’ in the places where they will be needed. I assemble my “Invention” and stash it where I know that John will be looking for it. I always put a protective towel over the seat of the chair in the bedroom. I’ve had to have it reupholstered once and I am not going to do that again.
I set the table, uncork the wine and wait for John to get home. He arrives right on schedule and I greet him at the door with a big kiss and a big glass of wine. I tell him that I have been working in the garden and that I have “gotten a little dirty”. John obediently observes the soil on my cheek and forehead. He appears happy to be home and aware of the significance of the date. He has, the dear heart, brought me a little present. John came in with a small gift-wrapped box. Inside, I know, will be another glass-crystal animal. These crystals are made in Germany and are very beautiful. John has been getting them for me on every equinox since the first time that we observed the ritual. I have quite a collection of them on display in the living room. I particularly enjoy when guests admire the collection and I silently enjoy the inside joke “If you only knew what I did to get them”.
John and I sit down and enjoy the pot roast. The roast is usually big enough that there will be pot roast sandwiches for the boys’ lunches for a couple of days. We can talk during dinner, but when dinner is over, we start to observe the ‘no talking’ rules. I do a quick clean-up of the dining room table. I put the dishes into the kitchen sink but do not spend the time to wash them. The food is put in appropriate containers and put into the ‘fridge. Meanwhile, John closes up the house, locking the front door and shutting off the outside lights. John waits for me at the bottom of the stairs.
I take John by the hand and lead him up the stairs to the master bedroom. When we get there, John waits while I strip off all my clothes (the few that I am wearing). I walk into the Master Bathroom and start the water running in the Tub/Shower. John watches me from the doorway. When the water is ‘just right’, I climb in and wet myself all over from the neck down. I do try to keep my hair dry. Now for the first ‘scrub’.
John picks up the washcloth and liquid soap. He proceeds to give me a wonderful and warm wash-down starting at my collar bones and going front and back all the way down to my feet. This feels wonderful. I put my feet, one at a time, onto the side of the tub so that he can wash them. I can see him staring at my puss while he does that. I like that too.
When the first scrubbing is completed — we begin the second. This time, John takes a little more time when washing my tits. My boobs are not particularly sensitive, but the feel of the warm terrycloth wash rag gets the little kaçak iddaa nips to stand at attention. He moves on down to my crotch and I again assist by putting one foot on the side of the tub and spreading my legs a little. John now has good access to my underside and he gently washes ‘through the gap’. When I turn around, I bend forward slightly and he can run the washcloth up and down through the crease a few times. He continues on down my legs but he usually skips the feet on the second pass. That’s OK with me. The last thing that he does is to rinse me off with the hand wand from the shower. When all the soap is down the drain, John turns the water off and hands me a big fluffy towel.
I quickly dry myself off and await the next step. Mum called it “anoint with oil”. I chose to follow this portion of the ritual with something that feels and smells good but won’t stain the linen. John grabs the bottle of skin lotion and anoints me by gently rubbing it all over my body, again from collar bones to ankles. And, yes he does pay a little more attention to the ‘girly bits’.
When John puts the bottle of lotion back onto the counter, that is the signal for me to turn around, face the wall and stand penitently quiet. He finds all the necessary equipment laid out on the bathroom counter. There is an enema bag. I particularly chose the traditional, old fashioned, red rubber enema bag with the black plastic tip. (I went to a small pharmacy three towns away to buy it all those years ago.) It has a shut-off clamp and a hook for hanging it up. John runs the water in the bathroom sink until it gets nice and warm. He wants it to be at about body temperature and he tests it on his hand. When the water is at the correct temperature, he fills the bag and adds a few drops of liquid soap and a few drops of soothing Aloe. When the bag is capped he gives it a couple of shakes to mix the contents and then vents the air out of the hose by releasing the clamp and allowing a little flow into the sink. After closing the clamp, John turns and hangs the bag from the shower head. I wait for him to lubricate the tip with petrolatum and when I hear him put the petrolatum jar back onto the counter I bend forward at the waist and put my palms against the wall.
John is very gentle. I know he loves me and does not want to hurt me. He goes very slowly and eases my butt cheeks apart. He puts the enema tip up against my anus and pushes it in ever so slowly. Once it’s in all the way, he eases my cheeks back together and starts the water flowing by releasing the clamp. I can immediately feel the water running into me. It feels odd but familiar. John then turns and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I turn a little so that I can see the bag and watch as it slowly collapses. I start to feel a little full as I see the bag returning to it’s unfilled shape. I click the clamp to closed. After a few seconds I carefully remove the tip from my bottom and let it dangle down into the tub. A very little water runs out of the tube into the tub.
Using both hands and a lot of will power, I squeeze my butt cheeks together and climb out of the tub to take a seat on the toilet. The water is sloshing around in my bowels and the soap is sending me a message. “Freedom, I want Freedom”. Obeying the message, I release the contents of my colon into the toilet with a long protracted ‘whoosh’. I quickly flush and send it on its way to Freedom. I give things a few more moments to percolate down and give a few gentle pushes to make sure that the tide is, in fact, ‘out’. When I am sure that the remnants are gone, I tidy up using a couple of those disposable wipes. Thank goodness for those disposable wipes! I have been using them for a few years and they are wonderful.
I put on the big fluffy bathrobe that is hanging from the bathroom door hook. When I feel complete and pretty again, I open the door and walk over to the bed. John is sitting there waiting for me. He has retrieved the two glasses of wine that I had put on his dresser earlier; we sit and drink them, in total silence. There is no hurry, we have all night.
When we are done with the wine, I collect the glasses and put them back on his dresser. Then I lie down on the bed and fluff up a pillow behind my neck. John lies down beside me and we share a few long and passionate kisses. I still love the way he kisses and his strong arms hold me so tight that I feel as secure as the Crown Jewels. After a few minutes, John sits up and slides down the bed. He then proceeds to give me a foot rubs that feel so good that I think I could almost climax from it. He spends time on each foot and ‘damn, that feels good’! He gradually works his way up past my ankles and does a nice massage on my calves and thighs. When I can reach his head, I pull him up but he only makes it as far as my chest. John really likes tits. He nuzzles and rubs them with his lips, eventually using his tongue to get the little nips as hard as pencil erasers. I don’t usually need a lot of attention to ‘the girls’ kaçak bahis but it does feel good and John really likes it. After a while, he gives each one a little suck. At this point I am a little tired of lying on my back and I roll over to face him. John continues to use his face on my boobs while he now starts to rub my back. Again, this feels really good!
I eventually roll to my back again. I spread my legs a little to let him know that I am ready for the regular sequence of events to continue. Reluctantly leaving my boobs, John kisses his way down my torso, pausing to worry my navel with his tongue. This tickles and I usually giggle but soon remember the no talking rule. He soon arrives at my puss and the really fun part of the night begins. Moving over me, John takes up a position directly between my legs. I lift my legs to his shoulders and the fun begins.
John nuzzles my bush. He explores all the nooks and crannies with his tongue. He makes a passionate kiss directly on my vagina and then moves up to pay direct attention to my clit. He certainly does that well. Starting with small circles and working his way to fully rubbing my clit with his tongue, John slides his hands under my butt cheeks and attacks my clit full force. He applies suction to my clit, pulling it into his mouth. His action becomes rhythmic and he emphasizes the action with gentle squeezes of my butt cheeks. I am in heaven and I can feel myself moving slowly down the road to an earthshattering orgasm. Soon enough it’s there and the throbbing, pulsing pumping begins. My eyes are squeezed as tight as they can go and I catch myself moaning and thrusting my mound against John’s face. I think that I sometimes forget to breathe. But, like all good things, the feeling slowly fades away. John now moves back up the bed, covers me with the robe and lies by me again. We hug and kiss for a little while. I can smell and taste myself on his face and lips, but that is OK. I close my eyes for a while and wait for John to get on with the next part of the ritual.
While I am resting, John gets out of bed and goes back into the bathroom. There, he retrieves the enema bag from the shower head. He runs the water until it is sufficiently warm for me. Checking that the hose clamp is closed, John refills the enema bag but, this time only adds the Aloe. After a couple of quick shakes and a venting, it’s ready to go. He applies another generous dab of petrolatum to the tip and brings the whole thing into the bedroom. He hangs the enema bag from the bedpost. I turn to lay on my left side and scooch up the bottom of the bathrobe exposing my butt. John, once again, spreads my cheeks and slowly inserts the enema tip completely into my rectum. He checks that all is ‘in-order’ and releases the clamp.
Again, I can feel the water flowing into me. It is immediately warm and somewhat soothing. John lays on the bed behind me and reaches over to gently rub my abdomen. This gentle rubbing apparently eases any discomfort I might get from the enema and it makes the entire process a lot more tolerable. I have to admit that it actually feels good. Just like the first one, the water is eventually out of the bag and into me. Seeing the deflated bag, John closes the clamp and then very slowly removes the tip from by arse. I take a few deep breaths, squeeze my ass cheeks together and carefully get up off the bed. I do a kind of duck walk into the bathroom and quickly take up a seat on the toilet. This one I seem to be able to hold a little longer, but eventually I must give this one it’s freedom. “Whoosh” just like before. After a few safety checks, I again use the disposable wipes to tidy up a bit.
While I was in the bathroom, John took the time to completely strip off. (and the dear man actually put his dirty clothes into the hamper). He collects up the enema bag and hose and puts this equipment into my top dresser drawer. I will clean it up, dry it and put is away tomorrow, for six months, when the next equinox is due. John moves a couple of pillows to near the bottom of the bed and retrieves my “invention” from the night stand.
Once the ‘tidying-up’ is complete, I take off the robe and hang it back on the door hook. I return to where John is standing near the end of the bed. He is naked and I can see that he is in an advanced state of excitement. I kneel on the very end of the bed and put my torso above the stacked up pillows. I keep this position for a few moments with my palms on the bed as I look at the wall and silently say the special penance prayer (In Welsh of, Couse).
(“Earth mother: I submit to this act to honor you. The pain is to remind me of those things that you give up for us without objection and the shame is to show you that I truly appreciate your continuing love for us as we grow and learn. Please protect my family and allow us to provide for ourselves from your great bounty.”)
Seeing me in this position, john moves up behind me and starts to massage my hips and lower back. He can’t help but to keep bumping into my ass cheeks with this erection. Once I feel ready, I lower my upper body to my elbows and put my head down on to the mattress. John sees this as the signal to start, and he starts by using my ‘invention’.