Loli ch8

by Lousia May

"Time to get up, little one."

Vanessa opened her eyes to see her mother, now dressed in a beautiful silk kimono gown, leaning over her. She heard rain pattering against a window. She also noticed that she was now lying under a satin blanket. It felt wonderfully smooth on her bare skin and she stretched luxuriously. As she did so, she felt the soreness in her hips and thighs, and an odd tingle in her bottom.

"Ooh. I'm sore," she winced.

"Sure you are. Those little muscles are learning all sorts of new things. Things they aren't used to doing in Gymnastics, that's for sure."

Vanessa giggled and yawned, her arms above her head. "Nope, not in Gymnastics." Her arms immediately came down. "Oh my gosh. What time is it? Where's Loli? We need to get her home!" And she started to scramble out from beneath the covers.

"Honey, honey, don't worry." Her mother gently held her with an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Everything's taken care of."

Vanessa looked up at her mother. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," and she kneaded the girl's soft shoulder, "I woke up and drove Loli home a few hours ago, and Dad went to watch football at the Bensons." She smiled. "You slept for almost four hours!"

"Really?"

"Really. I guess you needed it."

Vanessa blushed. "I guess I did." She gingerly patted her bottom. "We should go out to eat more often."

Her mother grinned. "As long as you sit next to me."

Vanessa grinned back. "Deal!" She looked at her mother. "So. . .we're all alone here?"

Mrs. Johnson nodded, and Vanessa whooped, "Cool!" and threw her arms around her mother. She felt the coolness of the kimono wrap, smelled the sweet, spicy fragrance of her mom's's light perfume, and murmured into her soft breasts, "you are so cool."

"Oh, honey," sighed the older woman, her hands roaming all over the warm, naked child, "the way you make me feel, I am anything but!"

"Woah," said Vanessa, standing up suddenly, "I really have to go to the bathroom." Her little knees were locked together in a parody of need.

Her mother stood, too, and put her arm around her daughter. "Here, honey, use ours." And they walked into the large luxury master bathroom.

"My legs are so shaky, my gosh." She looked about her. "Wow, I'm never in here."

The huge, pink marble bath was built into the wall. Next to it were an oversize toilet and a bidet. Every wall was a mirror, and Mrs. Johnson marveled at her incredible good fortune as she beheld the amazing image of herself, elegant and statuesque in her crimson kimono, and this beautiful little pixie of a daughter: the soft golden hair on her head the only hair on her body, tiny lumps for breasts, her little bottom perfect in its pert, round proportions, and her face a vision of pretty girlishness. And here she was, naked, looking wonderingly about her. A soft jet of lust rushed between Mrs. Johnson's legs. The wind whistled at the stained glass windows.

She sat down on the back part of the toilet seat and gathered her kimono up around her waist. Her neat dark bush, washed and brushed since its last encounter, looked back at her in the mirrored wall. "Come here and sit." She patted the toilet seat in front of her.

"But you're sitting on it."

"Just the back. I'm don't have to pee, but you do, so I want you to sit here in front of me and pee. Come on, honey."

So Vanessa came and sat on the toilet seat, feeling a little uncomfortable, and not at all like peeing. "I've never, um. . . I always go to the bathroom by myself."

"Well, I should hope so." Mrs. Johnson kissed the top of the little girl's head, and reveled in the sight of her daughter, sitting so high up on this grown-up toilet that her legs almost dangled, spread towards the mirror, her bare little pussy still somewhat flaky with her own dried juices. She reached around to touch the still-swollen lips.

"Ooh, baby, you're a little puffy down here." The woman watched as her fingers traced the puff pattern around Vanessa's labia. Vanessa stared, fascinated, at the scene before her. Her mother continued her explorations, slipping one elegant finger gently between the smooth pink lips. The finger wiggled lightly in its sheath. "What do we call this, honey?"

"Umm. . . my tingle." She breathed a sigh and let her head lean back against the older woman's chest, still watching the mirror before her.

"Your tingle. Yes." And Mrs. Johnson removed her finger from Nessa's tingle and brought it to her lips. The girl watched as the older woman licked her own finger with a generous gob of saliva and brought it back to play. "Have you ever played with your tingle before? Like this?" She placed the lubricated finger between the rosy labia and began rubbing, smoothing, in a circular motion.

"I think I was, before you came to get me."

"You think you were?" Both were staring at the mirrored image of Mrs. Johnson's circling finger on the little girl's pink slit, seeing the soft flesh darken as it folded and gave.

"I was asleep. I woke up when you called me from downstairs, and my finger was inside my tingle. And I was all, sticky. Ooh."

The only sounds now were the rain and wind at the window, the slick, sticky, sucking sounds of Mrs. Johnson's finger in her daughter's tingle, and Vanessa's own breathing, which was becoming quite heavy and open-mouthed. Every so often a soft, light moan escaped her little lips.

"Were you dreaming?" the older woman whispered. Vanessa nodded against her breast. "About what?"

The girl's legs moved apart slightly to give better access to the knowing fingers, watching them dig gently deeper. "About you," she murmured.

Her mother's fingers stopped, and her hand cupped Vanessa's lips. "Me? Really?" The girl nodded, smiling, pleased at the woman's reaction in the mirror. "What happened?"

"Well," the girl began, a blush appearing on her chest and face with the thought of telling her elegant mother that Dream! This overwhelmed Mrs. Johnson, who leaned in and kissed the little girl's neck. Her fingers resumed their fondling, while the other hand came up and caressed a small, peach-sized breast.

"Mmm. Umm, I was coming up the front walk to tell you about my practice--"

"Uh-huhh," breathed her mother, as she rolled a tiny budding nipple between her fingers.

"Ooh. And, umm, you were there, and you were naked--"

"I'm glad," murmured Mrs. Johnson into Nessa's ear, as she licked it.

"Ahh-haa, and, you, umm, you wanted me to put lotion on your back, so I kneeled down behind you, ohh Mommy!" The older woman's fingers were now sliding deeper inside her daughter's little vagina.

Mrs. Johnson whispered into Nessa's moist ear, "Did you put lotion on my bottom?"

Vanessa was starting to move on the toilet now, her little crotch thrusting up towards the hand that invaded it. She was panting. "Uh-huh. . .ohhh. . .I put lotion, . . .uhhHH, . . .I put it on your bottom, and I saw your bottom hole, ohHH Mommy, oh nooo, I have to peeee!!"

"Go ahead and pee, honey."

"Oooh, but it's gonna--"

"It's OK, Nessa, I want you to. Pee, my darling. Pee." And her fingers increased their speed at the little girl's wet slit.

"Here it comes, Mommy. . . Ohhhh!" And a hot sharp stream of urine hissed out of her.

"Mmmm, I love it!" Her mother sluiced the stream through her busy fingers, working the warm liquid into and around her little girl's sex. "Do you feel it, honey? How warm it is, how wonderful?"

Vanessa was really moving around now, her bottom jerking in and out in spasms of pleasure. "Uh-huh, OH, oh, oh, it feels so good!" She strained her head around to the older woman, in her abandon trying to kiss her. "Oh, Mommy, I love you! Ohh!" And she was crying.

"Oh, God, little girl," and Mrs. Johnson's left hand left her daughter's tiny breast to palm her upturned face. She leaned in and roughly thrust her tongue into Nessa's panting mouth, tasting the girl's animal excitement, breathing in her smothered cries, tasting her tears.

Feeling her pee abate, she broke away from the kiss. "Turn around, hon. Come here," and opened her arms. The girl immediately slithered off and around to sit facing her mother. They clung tightly and kissed passionately for a long time.

At one point, in what seemed like a dream in itself to little Vanessa, she realized that she had to poop, and said so.

"Well, you're in the right place," whispered her older lover as she stared into her eyes. "Just go ahead and poop. We'll just keep kissing. Is that okay?" Nessa's answer was to grin and lean in to again kiss, suck, taste, devour those beautiful lips of her mom's. She trusted her mother completely, so much so that she found herself, while deep inside a kiss, pushing a poop out. The feeling was so intensely loving, as if her mother was helping her poop from inside. She grunted and sighed, flooded with love.

And for her mother, the event was intensely erotic, as she felt and tasted the young girl's effortful grunt into her mouth, felt her flowering trust. Opening her eyes as they kissed, she could see in the mirror Nessa's little spread bottom as she straddled her lap, and the dark poop nosing its way out of the girl's tiny, working anus. When Vanessa finished, she decided, it was time for a good cleaning--- because she had to make hungry love to that pretty opening again. Soon.

A last plop, and Vanessa was done pooping. She broke the kiss, looking deeply into her mother's eyes. "Oh Mommy," she breathed, "I love you so much." She swallowed, still feeling the lingering strange lust that connected her little asshole with her lips with her mother, her lover. She sighed and laid her head on the woman's breast.