Little Things

by Eva

As usual, fantasy fiction for adults only. Don't try this at home, or anywhere else. Respect and protect the young always.

-----

"Can't you do it?" Asked my daughter in her usual, pleading way. "It's just a little thing I'm asking you to do, Mum."

Little thing? Hardly, I thought. She was asking as far as Iw as concerned for something quite big. Finding her a small girl was no small event. Sure, I admit I was disappointed when my daughter said she wanted sex with a small girl. To be fair though, she didn't quite say the word 'sex.' She said "relationship" but I'm wise enough to know what that means. When you get down to it, you can't really relate to someone unless you get them in bed.

I suppose at my age –– I'm 43 now, though I still think of myself as younger –– you see a lot of things in life so it really shouldn't have been a surprise. I also think Luna is old enough at 18 to make up her own mind about who she wants to have sex with.

And let's face it, she could do worse than a small girl. I mean, Luna could go with someone who has a disease, or get pregnant out of wedlock or even end up in love with a married man who won't leave his wife and kids. Or she could marry a man who turns out to be a bastard as my husband did and leave me for a younger woman. So she could on reflection do a lot worse than have sex with a child.

Kids tend to be innocent, in all sorts of important ways. They also reward trust with trust of their own. A big plus point as far as I was concerned.

And as for moral issues of women having sexual relations with girls? Not really a worry. It isn't something I had ever planned to do, though the world is made up of all sorts of people. All you can say is some do, some don't. But I was disappointed because on balance I had hoped she would do what I hadn't done and find a man who was faithful and loyal and who would be a good father. Hers wasn't, but she never really knew him as he left when Luna was eight.

That's the trouble with being a parent: you pin your hopes on their children avoiding the pitfalls of life they had seen or experienced. It doesn't always work out that way, and now Luna was telling me she wanted to have a relationship with a small girl. Sex, basically.

How old is small? I asked her straight out over dinner. I figured she didn't mean a short or vertically challenged mature female. Small meant young. We both knew that.

"I don't know how old," said Luna, idly playing with her meal as she responded. "I haven't met any yet."

I sighed. There are times when even an intelligent young woman like Luna can fail to see the fact that you have to have a plan in life. I asked where she intended to meet this ideal small girl. Most women I knew who had sex with girls met them at places like playgroups or at the school gates, or they worked at the Guides or came into contact with kids. Nurses in hospitals, for example. There was even the online option. A woman-child dating site, and there were plenty of those. You just had to know where to look.

"Dunno," said Luna airily. Then she added: "I was thinking of the mall. Lots of little girls go shopping there."

"With their mothers, no doubt," I said. "You have to make sure the mum or for that matter the dad is happy with you chatting up their child? I doubt whether they will stand by and let you try to date their child if they don't approve. And even if you succeeded and got a date, then what will you do with her?"

"Do?" Luna frowned at me. "You mean, like... have sex?"

"No, not that! Spare me the detail. I was thinking more the dating." I felt a little cross, remembering how badly she had handled her cousin Millie's birthday last year. Luna was supposed to take young Millie to the movies as a tenth birthday treat and managed somehow to upset the girl by complaining about the movie all the way through. 'I hate those movies about ponies and stuff and having to buy ice-cream,' she had fumed later.

Millie was upset and my sister Laura angry at how Luna had been so unthinking. I had every feeling that Luna would do the same with another little girl. Unless she was going for a twelve or thirteen year old and they could talk about boys and bands. More likely to find common ground.

But who was I kidding? Luna wouldn't want to do much talking. I did wonder, incidentally, if my daughter had tried to feel up her little cousin in the cinema and that was why Millie was in tears and Luna so annoyed. No one likes to be rejected. But there had been no word from Laura about any confession the child had made, and anyway I didn't think Luna was into small girls at that point.

"I'll work something out," said Luna. "I could always just bring her back here and do things with her in my room."

I groaned. The prospect of having to go in Luna's untidy bedroom and clean up Luna's desperately chaotic mess filled me with dismay. Luna wouldn't do it no matter how much I asked and I didn't want a small girl catching anything from weeks and months of dirt and neglect. The child would probably turn up in her best party frock and end up with filthy marks on it. I also didn't want to watch or hear my daughter playing with a small girl. I have no problem with looking at lesbian porn, but I didn't like the idea of my own daughter doing it with someone else's child in front of me. Or in the next room, for that matter.

It even occurred to me I might not like the brat around the house, anyway. She could be one of those whiny kids who demanded everything and gave nothing. Don't like this, don't like that; you know the sort of thing they get up to. Pouting and snivelling, and sometimes both at the same time.

A little like Luna was, I thought somewhat unkindly.

"Maybe you could do it at her place," I offered. "Most parents are happy if their child has sex in their own room and they are downstairs. They know they are close at hand if, well, anyone wants anything."

"Like what?" Luna stared at me, her eyes narrowed. "You saying that I am going to hurt her?"

"No!" I gasped. Actually, I had thought she might treat them a little too roughly. Shoving in a fist before finger and the brat howling that she wasn't ready and Mum and Dad pounding up the stairs wanting to know what was going on... I could picture all sorts of problems, but a lie was a quick way to dismiss the thoughts.

"Maybe I could do it at hers," said Luna. She had stopped toying with her meal and got up from the table. She made no effort to tidy up the plate. That, no doubt, was my job. Again. Luna wrinkled her nose. "I dunno about age. I was thinking of a five year old."

"Luna!" I exploded. "That's baby-snatching!"

"Well, Kathy had a seven year old," Luna retorted.

"Your friend Kathy said she had a seven year old," I argued, stressing the 'said' for impact. "But as far as I know no one ever met this wonder child. Plus, seven isn't five. If I were you I'd go for someone a little older."

Oops. Mistake: I'd have to name the age.

"How old?" Asked my daughter at once.

"I dunno. Ten, perhaps." I had no idea as I hadn't thought about in detail. I was mad at myself for getting into a detailed conversation when really it was nothing to do with me.

"I don't want Millie," snapped Luna. "I hate that child."

"Who mentioned Millie?" I was exasperated. As usual with Luna, conversations had a habit of veering off at a tangent and arguing about things that had never been on the horizon let alone in the frame. This one was as bad as any of them. "I never thought you'd want your cousin. There are other ten year olds out there, you know."

"Most ten year old have tits," said Luna.

"For goodness' sake! Growing girls may well have boobs. That's how it goes. Or do you just want a flat chest on her?"

Luna snorted dismissively, frowned again and then finally admitted what I suspected all along. "I don't know what I want." She was getting back to her standard helpless state. "Can't you choose someone for me?"

"Me? I wouldn't know where to start." I started to gather up the dinner plates. My job to wash, once more. Followed by me drying and putting away while she hung round the fridge asking if we had anything she liked.

"You could just go and ask someone. People wouldn't mind," said my daughter, watching me juggle all the plates on my own.

"They might," I said. "And I don't know anyone either."

"Bet you do. You're just being selfish," pouted Luna.

"How so?"

"You probably want a girl for yourself." It was one of her childish comments: we get them at least once a day, or two on Sunday.

"Look at me," I snapped. My edginess was showing. "You think a little girl would want me?" I had my old jeans on and a baggy sweater. While the style of dress, or lack of it, can look good on someone as young as Luna it looked shabby on me.

"Put a dress on," said Luna, helpfully.

"Let me get this straight: you sit around while I wash up and then you sit around some more while I get dressed up and go out and find a girl for you." If I was being cutting and sarcastic it didn't quite work.

"Yeah," said Luna brightly, my sarcasm washing off her like water off a duck's back. "Would you mind?"

I opened my mouth to argue but I turned away to do the dishes, sighed and grumbled, and when I'd dried them I and went and chose my prettiest black and purple dress and thought about which of my friends had a pretty young girl who wanted sex.

-----

Her name was Carrie. Carrie Jacobs, and she was ten, going on eleven. Way too old for my daughter Luna probably, but it was the best I could do. Under her little flowered top she had the start of boobs. Another no-no, I thought. I ought to have said sorry and explained that she wouldn't do, but the black haired child was sweet and talked and smiled nicely when I bought her an ice cream. Her mother was off buying something or other and left her daughter with me. Trusting, or she knew what was coming.

Carrie's mother was a friend of a friend of a friend, which was how I tracked her down after a lot of phone calls and introductions. Anyway, here we were, finally.

The girl Carrie was sweet and talkative and I liked her. She said she liked my dress and asked did any little girls put their hand up it? Her friend Harriet apparently liked to put her hand up women's skirts to see what was there. I felt a little tremble in me. Trying not to show my excitement I asked if Carrie done that to anyone?

"No," she confessed. "But I'd like to. Really would."

"Are you asking if you can put your hand up my dress?"

Carrie grinned. "It'd be nice," she said. "Cool. An' put my hand down your top." She was looking at my boobs. I don't have particularly big tits but they are mature and nicely shaped despite my age. They do attract attention. I also had a new bra on that made the most of what I had to offer.

"You want to feel my titties?" I asked. The girl beamed even more before I went on: "Honey... We'd need a hotel to do that. Not here, at the mall. Your mother might not like it."

Carrie wrinkled her cute nose. "She wouldn't mind. I asked her if a nice lady came along could I have fun with her, and she said maybe." The girl paused. "If I was good, an' I want to be very good."

I smiled, but mostly to hide my own disappointment I felt running through me. For someone who had set her mind against having anything to do with small girls, sexually that was, there was a surprising amount of interest in me. "Maybe isn't a yes," I pointed out.

The child looked crestfallen. "Don't you want me?"

"It isn't a case of not wanting you. It's just... well, my daughter wants a little girl to date."

A series of emotions went through Carrie's face as she looked round, clearly hopeful of seeing a girl of an age like hers but registering disappointment when there was none to be seen. "Where is she?"

"At home," I sighed. I thought of her probably watching TV, or on the internet chatting with friends.

"Is her daddy looking after her?"

I took a deep breath. "Her daddy isn't there because, well, because... She's older. She's 18 now."

"That's ancient," said the girl, slightly horrified.

"And how old do you think I am?" I wasn't sure whether to be offended or not.

"Old," said Carrie, then grinned. "But I like old women. Like my Granny."

I had no idea how old this girl's Granny was, but at least it made me feel better that she liked me. But then, she wanted to feel me up, so no problem there. I also began to feel a little guilty; I was thinking of sex with this child and not reserving her for Luna. But that would be unfair of me. My daughter asked me to find her a girl and I had. All I had to do was stop this surge of something hot in between my legs as I looked at the girl in front of me.

"Is she pretty, this girl of yours?" Carrie asked, looking up at me. "Like you?"

I laughed. "Honestly, I'm not pretty. My daughter is much prettier than me. You'll like her. You wait till you see her."

Carrie looked uncertain. "Dunno. Gotta ask my mum," said the girl. She was looking round for her. Maybe, I thought, I had lost her trust and she wanted to stop this now. I'd heard about the way small girls can do that. All keen on having sex and dating and then suddenly not sure any more.

"She'll be back soon." I checked my watch. The mother had been gone fifteen minutes, probably thinking I could take care of her child for her for a while as she did some shopping alone.

"Just a kiss," said Carrie. "That's all. A little kiss. Please?"

"What?" I looked at the girl. She was leaning towards me, an expectant look on her face.

"You can kiss me if you like. I won't mind. An' no one'd mind here." She glanced over at another table at the mall and a woman was kissing a small girl, who was kneeling up on her chair to stretch herself over the table to kiss the woman. The child's short dress had ridden up and I could see her yellow panties. My cunt twitched with heat at the sight. Carrie could see I was staring at the woman and child and chuckled: "See? No one minds a kiss."

I gulped a little more loudly than I intended. "Look, sweetheart. My daughter is a much better person to kiss than me. You'll like her." I fought down the idea in me I quite liked her at times, too.

Another wrinkle of the nose. "She's ancient," said Carrie.

"And I'm like your grandmother," I said.

"Cool," said the child, beaming. "You wear those old fashioned thingies? You know, corsets. My granny does. She's got this one piece she calls it an' it fits her here." Carrie stood up and stroked her hands down her waist and hips to show me. "Sort of holds her in an' then her little lover helps her out of it. And stockings. She has them fastened here," the girl patted the front of her thighs. "Marjorie — that's her little lover — undoes them and then kisses her legs, she says. Or between them. Can I undo yours?"

I blinked. "Your Granny has a little lover?" A pulse, stronger than the first went through my belly at what I was hearing. This Marjorie was undressing Carrie's grandmother? Another, yet stronger sensation burned in my sex.

"Yeah. She's nine. Like me. I like playing with her when Granny's busy."

Another gulp, another burn in me. "You and Marjorie you... You kiss?"

Carrie wrinkled her nose. "No! Yuck! I don't kiss girls like her! No, we just play with my dolls house, in my room."

I nodded, feeling stupid. "But you would kiss a woman the same age as your Granny?"

The girl beamed and didn't have to nod this time. Her whole body was saying yes.

"Okay... Just one kiss." I had never kissed a child before, and never thought about doing it in public. But no alarm bells had clattered into life when the woman on the other table had kissed the girl with the yellow panties, so maybe it was okay for me too. I got up, went round to where Carrie was (she was kneeling up on the chair, ready for me with lips already puckered) and gave her a small kiss.

I was a little surprised at the way Carrie's hands came up and gripped my boobs as we kissed, but even more surprised when I held the kiss for a whole lot longer than I had intended, though perhaps thinking about it the child's tongue in my mouth and mine in hers was less of a shock.

-----

"It's not fair" bellowed Luna across the kitchen. "She doesn't like me. She says she wants you!"

I bit my lip, wanting to yell back at my daughter. "I arranged for the date, as you wanted," I said, trying to stay calm. "The rest was up to you."

"Well she did nothing but talk about you. When I went to kiss her she said I was old and my tits weren't as nice as yours." Luna looked close to tears. "And the movie was crap, too."

I let my daughter's anger subside for a minute. "I can't help that you didn't have a good time," I said when I thought it safe to do so. "Carrie's a nice girl and I was sure she would like you and––"

"She said you'd had sex!" Luna anger had refreshed itself.

"No, we had a kiss. That was all. And that was only because she asked."

"She said she put her hand up your dress. Felt your pussy, she said!" Volcano Luna was about to explode. "You betrayed me," she threw in.

"I chatted her up, as you wanted me to. She said she liked older women. I said she'd like you, for God's sake. I'm not into little girls." I was trying to be calm and controlled but not succeeding very well. "Plus we were in a mall. People don't do things like that in full view of everyone else."

My daughter snorted. "Carrie said you and she went to a store and went in the changing rooms and she did it then!"

I blushed, despite myself. "She wanted me to try on some mature, grandmother style underwear. With suspenders. That was all. She helped me get into it. It was only to keep her happy while I told her how good you were, how she'd enjoy going out with you."

"Well, she didn't." Luna glared at me. "So where's this thingy she said you bought? She said it was really dear."

"What thingy?"

"The fucking corset," snapped Luna.

"Language, young lady," I admonished. "It wasn't a corset as it happens. Just a one-piece." I was trying not to show my embarrassment at having done what I'd done, and nor did I want to justify spending so much on a black one-piece that held me in and thrust me out and had suspenders and stockings because Carrie said she liked me in it.

Luna looked miserable. "All you had to do was get her to meet me and I would do the rest."

"You did meet her. You took her out and you had a meal––"

"Burgers aren't romantic," Luna pouted.

"She's just a little girl, for heaven's sake. What did you expect? Wine with your meal?"

"She did nothing but talk about you all the time. Mrs Kennedy this and Mrs Kennedy that. She does this and she kisses really nicely." Another flood of tears was building up in Luna.

"She wanted to kiss me, not me kissing her."

"But you did. You and she kissed and played and you dressed up for her and she said you let her undress you."

"For fuck's sake, Luna!" It was my turn to be angry now. "Stop being so selfish! She likes older women. That's not my fault, is it? Or you want me to stop seeing her?"

Luna stared at me. "You're seeing her?"

"No," I felt my face flush red. "Not seeing her exactly. I went round to her house to talk to her mum about her dating you. It was only polite to sort that out." I took a deep breath. "You wouldn't sort it out so you left it to me."

"And I bet you fucked the kid at her house."

"No way!" I tried not to show I was not being entirely honest. As far as I was concerned going and lying on the bed with the child after she had undressed me and unfastened my suspenders wasn't fucking. Not strictly speaking because fingers aren't like real fucking, I told myself and kisses between the legs... well, no one fucks with their tongues much, do they? "I couldn't do that thing even if I wanted. You think I had a dildo with me?"

"No, but she said her mother had one and lent it to you." Luna's eyes blazed.

A silence fell on the room and I looked away. "Oh, that," I said, quietly.

-----

I did eventually patch things up with Luna and I am glad to say she had found someone, all on her own. Didn't need me at all. It's amazing what an 18 year old can do when she puts her mind to it. She has her own place now (which I admit is just as much of a mess as her room at my house was) but it's all her mess now and her responsibility. She's learned to heat food up, even washes up sometimes and does her own laundry.

I've met the little girl she dates, too. A neurotic, whiny brat who might be eight but behaves like she's four, wanting this and wanting that, but I figure it's good for Luna's soul to be put up with what I've had to over the years. To a large degree we've made peace now and even have gone out for a burger and milk shake as a foursome; me and Carrie and Luna and her little lover, Mona. Mona the moaner, Carrie whispered to me when the child was having a tantrum about the flavour of her ice cream.

Luna puts up with Mona's moans very well. She looked weary and resigned, which was how I often felt with Luna over the years, but so it goes. One has to learn with kids. I thought Luna didn't have it in her to be so resilient, but perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps too Mona makes up for for all her whining in bed. Who knows? It's their business, not mine. I'm more than happy with Carrie and my little lover and I spend a lot of time in bed talking and laughing as well as her shagging me with the strap-on her mum bought her and me licking Carrie's soft little cunt for hours while she watches her favourite TV shows. The thing about Carrie is she does like me in what she calls Granny things. I suppose in some ways I am just like her Granny. I have even met the woman and she gave me some useful tips about looking old-fashioned to please Carrie. Even adjusting my bra straps so my bust is lower slung. Carrie, said her grandmother, likes that a lot.

Low slung then it was then, and Carrie really did respond nicely. She positively radiated joy as she felt me up and pinched my nipples.

Whenever Carrie calls round (her mother drops her off for the weekend and holidays) I have to walk round the house in 'thingies' which are corsets and corselettes and stockings, with sensible block heeled shoes but no panties. Carrie likes to grope between my legs "to check how wet I am" and makes me bend over so she can examine my holes. You would be surprised what she finds to put in me, but I don't mind. When she has finished toying with me (or smacking my bum when she thinks I need it) she and I kiss and put our fingers in each other and even, if I am very good and Carrie thinks I deserve a reward, we have a sixty-nine. Mostly though she does things to me like slapping my tits to see how I react, or making me drink lots of water and not letting me go to the toilet until she allows it, or making me suck her toes through her little white ankle socks. All sorts of things she thinks of to keep me on my toes, as it were.

If I look at my relationship with Carrie I can see she makes most of the decisions in everything. She tells me what to wear, how to stand, how to behave. Occasionally if I say something she doesn't appreciate she tells me to take her panties off and stuff them in my mouth. As you might appreciate it's not unknown for me to say a little something so that I get to lift Carrie's lovely dress, pull down her panties (and take a secret sniff of her delicious pussy) and then ball them up and push them into my mouth so at least I can taste her for an hour or so. I look petty stupid with Carrie's panties wedged in my mouth but I don't mind. If Carrie's happy then so am I, no matter what her instructions are, no matter how trivial the demand or how demeaning.

After all, it's the little things that she does that make me love Carrie so.