Date: Sun, 10 Nov 2002 15:45:36 EST
From: Louisamay1111@aol.com
Subject: Loli ch1

    I'm writing this to record what happened, and to somehow make sense of
it. I really don't know if that's possible, but maybe if I just tell it all,
like it happened, things will become clear. Because right now all I know is,
I am going crazy. Really. I do NOT know what to do! I'm going to encode this
whole thing, too, because if Dan or ANYONE I know finds out, my whole life
would very probably come crashing down around me, and I would just. . .I
don't KNOW what I would do, I can't bear to think of it.
    I can see myself reading this 10 years from now and remembering the HUGE
passion, and HUGE fear, and unreality of everything. But right now I can't
even imagine a life 10, fifteen, or even 50 years away from ---- dare I even
say the name? What the hell, this is for me, without that it's useless ---
from Loli. Little Maria Dolores Perez, whom everyone called Loli, the cutest,
most adorable, most delectable, edible 10-year-old girl in Fairbridge, MO.
    There. I said it. And as a supervisory member of the PTA board at
Fairbridge Elementary School and Brownie Den Mother, married to Dan Johnson,
upstanding citizen and deputy mayor of Fairbridge--- I am, as they probably
say in the state prison down the road a ways, "in deep shit."
    What am I doing?????

    Alright, start from the beginning. My daughter, Vanessa, had a new friend
over from school. This was, what, May, so 3 months ago (it seems like years!)
Apparently the girl's family had just moved from St. Louis and she was new at
school. We had just gotten the pool ready for the summer and Vanessa wanted
to show it off, so Loli was invited over.
    I remember thinking even then as I stood over the sink at the kitchen
window and watched the girls frolic, what an interesting-looking little girl
Loli was. She wasn't pretty in the typical American way; first of all, she
was dark-skinned. Not black, but kind of dusky, bronze. And then, too, there
were times when her facial features betrayed an even slightly grotesque
quality, as her face had a tendency to stretch itself into cartoonish
expressions when she was excited. Which was often.
    She had a swagger. That's the only way I can describe it. It didn't imply
aggression, or ugliness, or anything bad. Indeed it fit right into her
personality. But it was amusing, at first, seeing this little imp swagger
like a dockworker. There was also a slight hunch to her shoulders, which
brought her head a bit forward and made her look like she was always very
alert, always ready to pounce. Whether this hunch was just personality or an
actual physical flaw, I didn't know.
    I really didn't notice myself getting (I cannot believe I'm going to use
this term) TURNED ON (Ohmy GOD, I sound like like such a bimbo--and now I've
got to stop this critical nonsense!) OK. Yes, turned on. I did not indeed
notice that I was watching little Loli so closely, and with such pleasure. I
remember just blithely gazing at the pool girls, telling myself, yes now I
remember, I actually was convincing myself that I was so impressed with how
much Vanessa had grown over the winter, and how comparing the girls' bodies
was perfectly natural in such a context. I noticed Loli's little sticking-out
bottom, how different it was from Vanessa's thin one; how Vanessa had just
started sprouting tiny protrusions, hardly noticeable, while Loli's little
breasts, though still barely the size of small peaches, pushed out a
considerable amount. And how, after a flailing slide into the pool, oh my,
her little slit just sank right into her soft-cloth bathing suit, and what an
INteresting profile it was, little ribbling lines and uneven valleys. . .
what would they look like, I wondered, offhandedly. . .
    I couldn't imagine myself being aroused by a ten-year-old girl, and so
attributed the pleasant glow and subsequent giddiness to the newly seasonable
warmth of the day and an overall awareness of comfort and good fortune. Here
were my pretty daughter and her pretty friend playing in our pretty pool in
our pretty house on a pretty day in pretty Fairbridge, Missouri! Pretty damn
good, huh?? In fact, I felt so good that I decided to go on out there and
have a swim myself. It looked inviting.
    I ran up and threw on my own bathing suit, saw myself in the mirror and
unaccountably decided on another bathing suit. While half my brain said, "who
the heck are you dressing up for??", the other half assured me that I should
look as nice and as sophisticated as possible for Vanessa'a new friend. Yes.
The one-piece was just so. . .matronly, like I wasn't any fun, while my new
bikini! (that I'd bought on a cruise as a lark)showed a definite style, a
willingness to have fun, to be cool. Granted, it did have a certain risque
quality, the silky black material riding rather high on my trim, not perfect,
but quite presentable derriere. But that was just part of the fun. I may look
like Donna Reed (as many people have pointed out to me), but a Mom can still
be sexy, can't she?
    I strode out onto the pool patio.
    "Mom!" Vanessa's incredulity was expected. She stood behind Loli on the
slide. In one hand I held three towels and in the other, my swimming cap.
    "Yes?" I dropped the towels and began tucking myself into the cap.
    "What are you WEARING?"
    Loli's long legs drummed on the slide beneath her. She stared at me, a
big grin on her face. "A cool bathing suit, duh!" Then she astonished me by
doing a strange, leggy little bump and grind while sitting on the slide, her
outlined little vagina sinking even deeper. As she slid down, still
squirming, she sang out, "Sexy, sexeeeee!!"
    Vanessa looked down, then up at me, and grinned. She spun her finger at
her ear. "Crazy!"
    Loli yelled up to her new friend. "You do it!" And Vanessa, quite
atypically, but now in the Loli spirit, jumped down the slide yelling
"SEXEEEEEEEEEE!!" She emerged streaming, and they both giggled together.
    And the thing was, I DID feel sexeeee. As I walked to the ladder, I felt
a sway to my gait, felt my nipples harden, felt the air on my skin, and two
little pairs of eyes as well. I turned to descend, and felt my hips ever so
lightly push my bottom outward, half aware of letting the two girls see a
real woman's behind. With a little hitch and a dip, I lowered myself into the
pool.
    Loli came paddling over to me. Her eyes were bluer than I thought it was
possible for eyes to be, especially against her dark skin. It made her eyes
appear even bigger. And it gave her face, which had a very pretty, elfin
quality, a somewhat otherworldly look. She treaded water in silence for a
moment, her large expressive mouth working lightly.
    Finally, "hi, Mrs. Johnson." Her voice was high-pitched but husky, an odd
and kind of thrilling combination.
    "Hello, Loli." We paddled in silence for awhile. She pretty much stared
at me the whole time. I looked over at her every once in awhile to find her
big eyes on me.
    "That's a really cool bathing suit, Mrs. Tyler." It came out in a rush.
    "Thank you, Loli. I'm glad you like it." And, I realized, I was.
    She nodded, and kept nodding. She frowned, then said, "I wish my Mom
would let me get a bathing suit like that."
    "Well, maybe she will," I murmured, doubting.
    "Naah. She says this one," and she looked down forlornly, "has to do it
for the whole summer! Can you believe it??" And her eyes bugged out, her nose
scrunched up. Loli cartoon. It was very charming.
    "Well, we might have something. Vanessa has quite a few and I doubt she
needs all of them, so --"
    "How COOL!!" And she fell back and did a somsersault. In the glimpse, I
could see that yes, she could definitely use a new swimsuit: the crotch had
slipped all the way over! Loli emerged snorting and blowing, and grinning,
and it seemed, glowing. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" And she paddled
in swiftly and kissed my cheek. And just as swiftly paddled over to the side
and climbed out of the pool. I couldn't help but watch: The little suit was
indeed too small and ill-fitting (I don't know WHAT her mother was thinking),
and acted pretty much like a poor girl's thong. It revealed a shiny,
paler-skinned bottom whose shared globes were absolutely perfect.  As she
stood on the ladder she quite unselfconsciously reached round and plucked the
suit out of her rear. Then she towelled off and joined Vanessa in the
kitchen.
    I continued my lazy breaststroke, still skittering away from that place
in my lustful mind. "What a nice girl," I thought, tingling. "I'm so glad
Vanessa found a fun friend." And then turned my mind to the prospect of
finding the girl a suit, of fitting her out, having her try them on. . .Mmm,
I haven't swum in a while. It feels so good, so. . .freeing. I did at that
moment want to go back to my room and just. . .relax. Was how I put it to
myself. Maybe I saw naked as a part of the relaxation. Just get comfortable
and lie down . . . Den Mothers don't immediately admit to themselves that
they need to go and have themselves a good hot frig.
    So I luxuriated in this still innocent feeling. I got out of the pool,
lingered in the kitchen, had a cold iced tea, then wandered up to the
bedroom.
    The door was half ajar, and there was my little friend, umm, VaNESSa's
new friend, just stripping off her suit in front of my large mirror. I'd
heard Vanessa downstairs in the TV room, so thought they were together. She
wasn't in a hurry, and I could see her watching herself intently. The
reflection didn't catch the door, or me.
    Her top was already off, laying on the floor at her feet. She studied
herself, then stuck her chest out. She put a finger to each nipple and
pressed. I watched, fascinated, as the little breasts gave, and, when she
took her fingers away, the dark nipples rose, like little digits of brown
dough. They were substantial, her nipples. She continued, as if conducting a
scientific test.
    Now she tucked her pudgy thumbs under her suit bottom waistband and
pulled downwards, just enough to reveal her slit. She studied that too for
awhile, then abruptly turned to check out her bottom. She thrust it out like
a pinup model, then pulled down the suit to see it naked. She posed a few
times like this, suit halfway down, and I must say my stomach was getting
fluttery. It got even more so when, bottom still mirrorward, she pulled the
suit all the way down and stepped out of it. She posed, then put her hands
down on the bed. Oh, my. I watched this little girl bending over and making
actual sex motions with her behind! She was watching her own pretty bottom
twirl and rise and fall, open and close. Where did she learn these things, I
thought. But I also thought, oh I want to be there kissing that wonderful
little behind. And I was ashamed. But not enough to stop watching.
    And a good thing too(!) because she abruptly turned again, and now
hitched up her feet on the bed so that she sat, her little vagina wide open
to the glass. She sat in an almost freakish position, each foot planted
firmly on the bed and turned out parallel to the mirror. And she began to
touch her little self.
    This is what, I think, sent me over the edge of desire into obsession
land, watching this ten-year-old girl secretly masturbate so genuinely in
front of the mirror I myself had used so often. Such openness, such new lust,
such BEAUTY! And her little stifled cries and sighs. And she was actually
quite clumsy, which made it all the more endearing. Her fingers kept missing,
or sliding off, or skipping rhythms in her wild passion. Because it was that.
Little Loli shook and shuddered and whimpered, even farted! I was so
frightened she would see me and flee, but she was way too caught up. Soon the
signs of crisis came, the sloshing fingers blurred, Loli's face froze in a
wracked grin, she grunted a few times, then fell back.
    I moved back, and almost ran down the stairs.  I stopped in the kitchen
and opened the refrigerator door to think. What was happening to me? I felt
very strange, like I'd been slipped something in my drink. I was lightheaded
with desire, and afraid too of the powerful feelings I seemed to be having
for. . .my daughter's friend! Sick! Perverted!! That would have been my
thoughts exactly had I heard about someone so afflicted. I stood looking
absently at the fridge contents, feeling my legs tremble.
    "Mom?" I started, turned to see Vanessa looking at me. She'd put a long
t-shirt over her wet suit.
    "Hm?"
    Vanessa rolled her eyes in that 'duhh' look, "you've been standing and
looking in the fridge for like ten minutes."
    I closed the fridge door. "I know, honey, I'm just. . .I went away for
awhile there. I think I'm just really tired. I haven't been sleeping very
well." Lie. I slept great. "Where's Loli?"
    Vanessa had opened the fridge back up to look in herself. "She went
upstairs to change."
    "You should change yourself, Missy. You'll catch cold in that wet thing."
    And at that moment Loli came in, freshly changed, and with that freshly
fucked look. I know, it's vulgar, but it was a term I used to hear in
college, and Loli had it. Ten years old or not, she had it. That mussed hair,
the glazed eyes, and especially that rosy afterglow of orgasm. Vanessa went
up to change and Loli looked dreamily after her.
    "Loli?" She turned to me, the eyes widening.
    "Hm?" She did look guilty. I let her twist for a moment, watching a blush
rise.
    "Want some lemonade, honey?" She nodded, then took a deep breath.
    I got her a glass and handed it to her. "Are you feeling alright, Loli?
You look a bit piqued."
    Another blush. "I'm OK." She looked away for a moment and took a sip.
Then she looked up again. Those eyes! She seemed to steel herself. "Mrs.
Johnson?"
    As this seemed to require a response, I went along. "Yes, Loli?"
    She deflated. "Oh, nothing. . ." I waited. She looked back at me again. I
played along.
    "What is it, honey?"
    "It's silly." She held the glass in both hands and looked into it.
    "No such thing as a silly question." She looked up.
    "Do you. . .?" Her tongue snuck out and her little teeth caught it.
    "Do I. . .?"
    It came in a rush. "DoyouthinkI'm pretty?" Now she even did a little
pirhouette of embarrassment and blushed to her exposed midriff. She hid her
face behind the glass of lemonade.
    I stood there in my black slinky bathing suit and worked at pulling back
my natural response. I put my hands on my hips and played the Friendly Mom.
"Now Maria Dolores, of course you are. You're a very pretty girl." I think it
was her eyes peeping over the rim that then made me say, "you're about the
prettiest little thing I've ever seen." And I felt mySELF blush!
    The glass came down and her mouth was open. "Really?" All I could do was
nod, a silly little half-smile on my face.
    She suddenly put the glass down on the table, opened her arms and wrapped
herself around me. Her head came  to about just below my breasts. It came up
and I felt a little *smooch* on my bare skin, right around my solar plexus. I
uttered a little gasp, and came, I think. The arms let go, a big, sunshine,
gorgeous grin, and she was out of the room. I stood frozen for a moment, and
a very strange, wonderful passion coursed through me. A hand touched the spot
where her lips had been, and the other slid down to my crotch, where it felt
heat. I pressed, and nearly cried out. Alright, NOW I go to my room. It was
time for some serious masturbating.

    A month or so went by. Loli came to the house often, sometimes alone,
sometimes with more of Vanessa's many school friends. I masturbated more than
I EVER have in my life. I mean, gosh, before Loli (B.L.) I touched myself
maybe once every month or two, and that was usually in the shower, and it
rarely came to anything anyway. It was just something that I'd find myself
doing and, almost like giving in reluctantly to a whiny child, I'd indulge my
errant hand.
    But NOW, my GOD. . .my lust just wouldn't let go of me. I'd have a soft,
secret foreplay caress in bed before Dan awoke, then a quickie while I peed
(I began to love the feel of making myself come through a pee); breakfast for
Dan, then a shower, where I lathered and stroked in preparation for the
morning's Big Come in bed. I had a good hour here, as Vanessa liked to sleep
in during the summer, and I frequently found myself replaying little Loli's
show before the mirror. I didn't have her flexibility on the edge of the bed
(close, but too precarious), but by then I was too far gone anyway. I'd
imagine it was ME making her come like that, just. . .kissing her all over,
and sitting behind her while she leaned back against me, and I'd frig her
bald little puss, and she'd whine and shudder and cry out like she did. .
.and then it was me, and boy, I'd come like gangbusters.
Over a ten-year-old girl! And I HAVE a ten-year-old girl!! It was very
worrisome. But not enough.
    Because I thought okay, you've got this. . .thing, this. . .BUG for
little Maria Delores Perez, yes, it's kinda sick, all that, but you've GOT
it, so, OK, I'll just ride it out. Right? It'll just play itself out, I'll
get to know her more, she'll just become like Vanessa (for whom I've NEVER
lusted), just like another daughter. And I'll be through it, cured, and no
one will ever be the wiser.
    Except.
    Except I didn't plan for Loli.

    Fourth of July weekend.
    I'd been doing pretty well, I thought. Wasn't masturbating more than one
or two times a day, and had had to get the house ready for the inflow of
relatives that came down around this time. Sometimes I didn't think of Loli
for hours at a time! Which was a great improvement. And she'd been away at a
family friend's place the whole last week, so I thought, yes, it's working,
I'm getting better. Soon, I'll be my old, boring, comfortable award-winning
motherly self again.
    Vanessa had asked me that afternoon if Loli could come with us to watch
the fireworks. Of course, I said, confident that my new resolve would meet
the Loli Test. After all, Dan had his brothers and sisters and all their
broods over, and what with the crowds and commotion, I doubted I'd even see
her. Well.
    We all hopped in the various minivans and arrived at Cummings Lake (!),
where everyone set out their blankets on the lakebeach. We must have taken up
a good city block with all our clan, and I sat on our blanket with a big old
quilt over my legs (it was nippy). As darkness came, and I watched the crowds
and listened to the general bickerings and whooping of our kids and toddlers
nearby, who should appear squatting at my side but Loli. She was barefoot,
and so dressed up! She wore a very cute little red, white and blue striped
knit dress that came to about mid-thigh. She even had a little blue bow in
her dark hair, which was quite properly combed out, and shone brilliantly in
the moonlight. And I even detected a bit of makeup on my naughty girl.
    The fireworks looked about ready to begin, as people settled onto their
respective towels and blankets.
    "Hi!" Her eyes were bright.
    "Hi, yourself. Where's Vanessa?"
    She pointed towards Dan's back. "She's with her Dad. I was gonna stay
there, but then I wanted to be with you!"
    "I'd love you to be with me." I picked the quilt up off my legs and
turned towards her. "Come on, get under the blanket."
    And before I knew it, she'd slid between my legs and sat. I had really
meant for her to sit beside me, but here we were. I settled the quilt over us
so that only our heads stuck out. She leaned back against me. Ohh. . .
    Her hair smelled fresh. "Your hair smells nice." She looked back and up
at me grinning, those little dimples just glowing.
    "I washed it." I felt her settle herself against me, and felt her little
bottom wiggle in my crotch. My hands under the quilt hung over my spread
legs, just inside and above her own. Suddenly her thin warm calves were
against my palms. She'd raised them.
    "Look! I can make the blanket go up!" And she kept them up, playing tent
with the quilt, and my hands just naturally lay right on them. I began idly
stroking her inner calves. She looked up at me again, legs still up. "That
feels good."
    "You like that?" I was feeling rather breathless myself.
    "Mm-hmm. . ." I continued softly stroking her lower legs, so thin and
warm. And firm! Soon she slowly lowered them. I stopped. "Don't stop!"
    I didn't really know what to do. A flare in the sky above. A spray of
color and light. Everyone 'ooh-ed' and 'ahh-ed'. I couldn't really reach her
lower leg now, so lightly began to stroke, yes, her inner thigh. Both hands,
both thighs.
    "Mmm. . ." I hardly heard but felt her sigh. And definitely felt her
little legs slide slowly apart for me. I felt her little bottom pulse with
pleasure at each soft downstroke. I knew, too, that at the angle her thighs
seemed to be in my hands, her cute little dress must be almost up over her
waist by now, under our quilt.
    She enjoyed my light touch for a few more minutes, the fireworks now
fully at midstride, when I saw her little finger crook to me to bend to her.
I did.
    "Wanna know a secret?" she stage-whispered. I nodded. She leaned up to
whisper directly into my ear, and even then softly: "sometimes I do that
right in the MIDDLE!" Then turned to look in my eyes.
    My heart pounded in my ears. "The middle?"
    "Uh-huh. . .right in between my legs. . .it feels really, really, REALLY
good!" We stared into each other's eyes for a moment while the fireworks
popped above us. Then she put her lips to my ear again. "You do that to me,
okay?" then back to look at my eyes.
    I stared at her with my mouth open, still idly stroking her thighs. I was
on automatic. Then I decided, and leaned down to her ear. She stretched up to
hear. "You can never, EVER tell ANYone. Alright?" She pulled away again to
look in my eyes, a big grin on her face. She was nodding like a crazy girl.
"I mean it."
    An even louder whisper. "I know. Never." And she leaned back even further
against me. I felt her lithe legs fall open to the ground. The flexible
little imp.
    Tentatively, my fingers slid slowly, lightly, up her thighs. I felt the
smooth muscle of her inner thighs, where they connected to her center. Then,
the thumbs touched cloth. And stopped. I had come to a very dangerous place:
her little panties. The hesitant thumbs ran lightly up and down the leg bands
while the fingers played circles on the soft inner thigh. Loli breathed, and
moved her bottom against my warm crotch. I looked casually around and saw
that everyone was rapt in the fireworks. My thumbs then moved up and around
to the top of her panties (where yes, the hem of her little dress was
bunched), so that my fingers could slide down over Loli's panty-clad slit.
When they did, I felt how warm she was! And how soft and . . squishy! She
hissed out a "yess!" I leaned in and murmured, "you have GOT to look like
you're watching the fireworks!" And I even gave her pussy-lips form a
squeeze. She gasped and said, "oh, wow," with a giggle, to the sky. We both
watched the sky as I continued:
    fortunately her panties were quite loose, so that when I tucked under the
leg hole and pulled to one side, there was a LOT of give-- indeed, it
uncovered her whole juicy little missy! My fingers felt this when they
lightly scanned over the area-- ooh, it's all open! Oh my God, I was SO HOT.
And so was my little Loli. As we continued looking upwards, I felt her push
her mound up, up into my hand! And at that point my hands didn't need a whole
lot of prodding. They dove in, sliding, twisting, and twirling in the wet
little pussy. And Loli was just LOVING the fireworks! She ooh-ed and aah-ed
and gasped and trembled and cried out. . . if anyone looked (and no one did),
they'd have thought that THIS girl liked fireworks a bit too much.
                 At one point I leaned in to her. I whispered, "Does this
feel good, honey?" Little Loli looked up into my eyes with a glazed look, her
mouth open, her lips wet. I slowed my fingers in her little twat. She nodded,
her whole lovely face flushed, and uttered a strained whisper. "Mrs.
Johnson?"
                "What, sweetie?" I sank a long finger into her tight,
slippery hole. Apparently she'd already seen to that job. Her eyes rolled
back and closed.
                 "MmmMMMM. . ," she said. Then she opened them again, and she
took a deep breath. "I love you, Mrs. Johnson. oooOOOOHhhhh. . . ."
                I wanted SO MUCH to kiss this little angel, to hold her and
bury my tongue inside her pretty willing mouth, to taste her lips. . .instead
I looked in her eyes. "I love you too, baby girl." And I loved bringing her
so close like this, then slowing, taking her down, then back. . . Oh, I
wanted to lick the tears of longing I saw form in her big eyes.
               But she was starting to get kind of wild now, even with the
slightest touch. Every rocket now elicited a kind of moan.  And I'd seen her
come before; this girl would need the finale. Anything less would look too
strange, fireworks lover or no. And just as I thought this, the finale began.
               And it was spectacular, with great booms and flashes, whistles
and thunder. Everyone clapped and cheered and made such a lively tumult that
little Loli's long awaited and well-deserved orgasm  pretty much fit right
in. It was fortunate, though, that the kids were so close and making such a
huge whoop and holler, because  Nini's crisis was a spectacle in itself:
               she'd  been so close for so long that when she felt my fingers
start to ride with the grand finale, she let out a wail of relief at first,
then a long drawn-out keening that continued as it rose in pitch and volume.
I felt her tight little body moving so passionately against mine, her hips
thrusting against my digging fingers under the quilt, her little hands
gripping my thighs, sliding up and down, up and down. . .
              And it was so touching to hear her try to keep the illusion of
fireworks fancy until it became just too much. . ."Ohhh, look, ohhhhh,
wowww.. . .mmMMMMMMMmmohhh, that's. . . .that's. . . .ooooOOOOOOHHHH
GAAAA!!. . .it's so BEAUTIFUL!!!!!  OH! OHhhhhh, ohhHHH, Mrs. . . .Mrs. . .
.AAAHhh!! I can't. . . I CAN'T ---!!!. . ."
              And with the final great, thunderous booms that shook the
heart, Loli spasmed, her hips thrust up, her little bottom tight, tight, her
face a big squinting frozen grin, her head shaking silently, her eyes
unseeing. I held her hot, soaking, pulsing crotch cupped in my hand; the
other hand supported her small bottom, one finger inside the crack just
touching her tiny, unexplored anus. I let her down slowly, to rest under the
sheet.
             To Vanessa, who came back finally to look for her friend, I
said, "she fell asleep." And it was true.