Wet Kisses

  • Posted on July 31, 2015 at 11:11 am

By Eva

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in January 2008 }

She was wet. The ten-year-old had emerged from the pool and was standing on the side, letting the water run off her, rivulets sparkling in the sunlight as they ran down her swimsuit, down her legs, making a puddle at her feet.

She stood, arms stretched out, letting water run from her, letting the sun dry her and reveling in having such a perfect little pre-teen body.

She shivered slightly as her body adjusted to the difference in temperature: it wasn’t a cold day but she had got warm in the water, and even the sun wasn’t warming her as quickly as she’d want. I looked at her shape, her firm little bottom and the hollow of her back, her small slightly curved tummy and flat chest. Maybe the merest sign of swelling up there. Mushroom cap nips: the hint of things to come. I looked and marveled at how something so young could be so perfect. Cute, pretty and very desirable if you like that kind of thing. I did, even though I kept it all screwed down tight. But here at the poolside it was so hard to keep in, so tempting to let it out.

I wouldn’t though. Certainly not with my family here, my husband with my kids splashing in the pool.

The girl’s hair was wet, and though it had been tied back strands of it clung to her face and she pushed them away. Let me do that, I thought from where I lay on the sun lounger, book open on my knee and open. I didn’t care about “Sense and Sensibility” right now: I wanted this child up close to me, in my arms. My lips against hers. The only senses I wanted to fill were mine and hers, tongue in mouths, hands between legs. Where they should be. Fuck, I groaned under my breath.

The self-torture of a secret, innermost world.

I went back to the book, about a world where so much was hidden. Like now, I thought. I have to keep myself hidden, not under layers of crinolines and silks but under my skin. Deep inside I yearned for a girl like the one standing by the pool, but some things… well, it can be a cruel world if you let these thoughts get to you.

Best not to think too much on it. Just look and admire and maybe tonight when everyone’s asleep and I have the time I can rub a little and remember what I saw, what I wished for. I squeezed my thighs together just a little, wanting to both suppress that faint tingle in my sex and make it more intense. It was the rubber ball fix as I called it: you tried to squeeze the feelings smaller but knew when you relaxed your grip a little it comes to life. Bouncier than before.

Anyway, the public swimming pool was noisy and there was no chance of any privacy here, but I could dream. As one of my kids caught my eye, waving to me, I waved back. For some reason the girl I had been admiring had caught my wave, and was looking at me. To my astonishment she sauntered over towards me.

I stared at her, trying not to gulp as a very naughty thought flushed through my whole being. It was almost: you waved, I came, you will cum.

Well, of course I would be mistaken. She was going somewhere else, going to see her family or friends or aunt or whatever. Not me. It was coincidence she was walking this way, her feet delicately leaving wet footprints on the tiles.

But there was no one behind me. She stood over me, looking down, and then without invitation sat herself on the very edge of my lounger, her perfect rear pressed up to my leg.

“Hello,” I said, unsure what to say.

“Gemma’s splashing too much and Katie’s being grumpy,” she said where she sat next to me, where I could feel the heat of her little body on my leg. Her wet body. “And I still don’t like Betsy, and Martine’s said she has to go soon.”

I stared at the girl, and then cottoned on she was talking about her friends who were here at the pool with her. The usual whirl of friends that dominates the thinking of ten-year-olds: who’s hot, who’s not, who’s in, who will be out when school starts again next week. “I can stay until five,” she said, looking at me. Pointedly. “Then we have to go.”

“Your friends,” I said, confusion on my face. “This Gemma and… Won’t they be missing you?” I wanted her to stay, but I was scared she would. I could imagine my husband noticing and asking afterwards who she was. Asking why I was looking flushed no doubt.

She shrugged as if that was how it was.

“I don’t know your name,” I said.

“No,” she giggled a little. “It’s better that way.”

My heart skipped a beat. Actually, about five beats. “What way?”

“The best way,” she purred.


The mermaid smiled at me, and then did something I never expected. She put her hand on my bare, dry leg (well, my swimming costume is for tanning, not getting wet), fairly high up too. I gave a little gasp.

“You shouldn’t,” I said, but I didn’t wriggle or try to move the child’s hand.

“What’s your name?” She asked, hand still there.

“Linda,” I said, and blushed at my stupidity. I had traded my name for nothing from her.

“Linda,” she repeated, saying it as it meant something to her. “My mum’s called Linda too.”

“Where is she?” I felt I should panic but couldn’t move.

“At home, doing things. She doesn’t know, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I gulped. This was fast becoming the weirdest conversation ever, and I was helpless to stop it. “Doesn’t know what?”

“She doesn’t know I go with ladies like you.” She was grinning at me. “I saw you from the water and thought, I bet she would.”

Oh fuck. I was falling down some slippery, wet, hot slope.

“Would do what?” My throat was so tight nothing but a squeak came out. It made the mermaid laugh.

“You’re funny,” she said. “Like you pretend you don’t want to kiss me.”

I have a theory here: I either passed out with shock and delight and entered a dream state, or slipped into a parallel universe where little girls say things like that but you couldn’t feel anything. But the way her still wet hand edged up my dry thigh towards the temple of my desires reminded me I was in the here and now. We were right here in our universe all along: she had said them and I could feel. God, how I could feel!

“You don’t know me,” I said, registering this as the lamest, most inane response ever to getting close to what you most want in life.

The mermaid giggled more. “Bet I do.” The hand was slipping inside my thigh, and I opened my legs a little. Really I wanted to throw them wide open so my dampening costume crotch was stretched taut over my sex. Partly to make it easier in case she wanted to stroke me there, or simply to show I had surrendered. Pretty much the most basic body-language ever.

“This is wrong. We can’t do anything here,” I said, aware there was pool full of people twenty yards away. Three of whom were my family. They would probably notice Mummy french kissing a child, hands between legs.

“Then we go in there,” the girl nodded behind me. I didn’t know what she could see, but it was going to be a whole lot better than heavy public petting. On the other hand, she could take me anywhere the way I felt. The local refuse dump would have been fine too.

She let go of my leg (by now her fingers were about two inches from my pulsing cunt) and we stood together. I shot a look at the pool: I could see my husband and the kids splashing yards away. Another world, so I could leave them there for now. Mermaid took my hand and led me away from the sun lounger, the book dropped open on the floor. Having abandoned any sense and sensibility, it didn’t matter if I lost my page.

Behind us was a way into some changing rooms. Cubicles for modesty, though not too much. The place had a few people in it, but they wouldn’t take much notice of a mother and daughter, though I wondered if any of them had noticed neither of us had towels or our street clothes. Well, they could wonder.

In the cubicle I asked: “Is this it.”

“No,” said the girl with no name. “This is it, Linda,” and pressed her pretty little lips to mine.

Oh God, I must have moaned into the kiss, moaning gently at the way her little tongue pushed at my mouth, worming its wet way in, finding mine. I opened wider, not caring if she shoved that wonderful tongue down my throat. All the way through me to my wet cunt. Top down licking, I suppose.

The mermaid’s hands were on my breasts, working my nipples through the costume, making them hard under the navy blue with yellow sunflowers. For my part, I clutched her wet body to mine, gripping that adorable firm, curved rear with my hands, pressing her into me so we would melt into one.

She let go of my boobs, and ran her fingers down between us, pushing at the crotch of my costume. At the sunflower over my clit.

“I want you,” I breathed into her mouth.

“I know!” She seemed to chuckle, but that darting tongue was back, filling me, stopping me talking. The best way to be quiet, I thought, unless it was her sexy little cunt pressed down on my lips. I could be quiet a very long time like that.

Her fingers were working against my costume now. “Go inside me, please, please, please” I whimpered. God, whatever happened to dignity?

Dignity went home a long time ago. I would do anything for her, and she knew it. She was grinning as her fingers got inside my costume, feeling up into my sex, finding out that it was the wettest part of me. The wet fingers of a child rubbing into my sopping slit, feeling the shape, the depth, the heat. Feeling how my juices were running.

Finding the hard nub of my clit and, oh God, teasing it like she knew how to bring off a woman like me. A woman desperate for the hands and lips of a pretty little girl.

“Oh, I love you. So fuck me, angel,” I breathed as she reached in deeper, not knowing if she heard me as my lips were mashed to hers. It was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t know her at all. Well, only sexually.

My hands were at her little slit now. I had hardly noticed I had got my hands inside her costume, inside the wet fabric, rubbing at her small hairless slit like she would cum for me. Maybe she would, right after I came. “Please,” I whispered again, around her tongue.

“Be quiet,” she said mischievously, breaking the kiss for a moment.

“Yes, anything,” I said, and plunged back into a kiss more eagerly than before.

I came, moaning with my breath ragged and every fibre of me alive. I stood, shaking with the exertion, the climax tearing through me, in that small cubicle with people outside and my family nearby and clinging to this child with my fingers in her cunt, not caring about anything.

“Linda,” she said to me. “Naughty Linda, fingering a little girl.”

“Yes, naughty Linda,” I echoed, holding her in case I lost her forever.

Outside there were voices, female voices. The world being normal. Normal unfulfilled women not knowing what it was like to do this, to be had by a child so pretty in her wet, wet swimming costume.

Not knowing how hard you cum when a little girl takes you by the hand, leads you by your slit. Makes you wet.


I went back to the pool many times after that, but I never saw my mermaid again. I even looked if there was someone who might be her friends – well, there were plenty of little girls who could be Gemma or Katie or even the Betsy no one liked.

But they never looked as if they knew me, though I did have a new swimming costume which might have confused them. A new costume with big red hearts on it and barely covering my bum or my tits. A daring one, which says I am available for fun if you are too.

One that I don’t mind getting wet when I press a little girl up to me in the cubicle and get her to finger me and I toy with her bare slit or we manage in that small space to get our mouths up to each other’s cunts and lap away as if we really like getting wet.

I love these little girls who are so eager to get their tongues in my mouth and their hands on me. Eager to show me how adorable they are. How open. But I will always have a special place for my mermaid and when I touch my old navy blue and yellow sunflower swimming costume (where I keep it carefully wrapped in a plastic bag at home) I always smell the crotch and the lingering scent of my juices. The memory of that day.


14 Comments on Wet Kisses

  1. PoppaBear says:

    In among all the multi-chaptered stories here there should always be room for a short, quick fuck tale, or two and this is a good one.

  2. Peter says:

    Very well written. I wish it was longer. Great topic.

  3. kim says:

    loved it.

  4. Eva says:

    I had no idea some of my old stories were on here, and I am pleased to see they are being read (and hopefully enjoyed). Whether I ever get back to writing more leslita type stuff I have no idea. Part of me thinks it would be nice and another part thinks… well, I am not sure what that bit thinks! Anyway, thanks to this site for publishing these stories.

  5. JetBoy says:

    Eva!! Welcome to our humble abode!

    I’m sure I speak for Cheryl, Naughty Mommy and myself in saying that we consider it an honor to host your stories at Juicy Secrets. When I’d heard that Leslita was shutting down and got the idea of “rescuing” especially fine stories for our site, you were the first writer that came to mind… and if Leslita hadn’t been saved in the end, I’d have salvaged at least several more of your erotic gems.

    Eva, if you ever, EVER decide to take up your pen again in the cause of lesbian fiction, we hope that you will give us a shot at the final result. You’re as welcome as a May morning here.

  6. Eva says:

    I am already considering it, so thank you once more JetBoy

  7. Mike says:

    That was such a turn on, I pictured everything as I read your wonderful story.

  8. DaughterLover says:

    THANK YOU!! This is one of my favorite fantasies, so it really hit the spot (a very wet spot) with me 🙂 Unfortunately there isn’t a pool where I live, but the park is a wonderful place to let my eyes roam, and my imagination run!

  9. Evan says:

    Love short and hot stories like this… Sad that there was only one encounter, like she was a ghost to never return.

  10. kraM says:

    I enjoyed it. But what’s a swimming costume? Some cultures call a swimsuit that?

    • Poppabear or PoppaClyde2 says:

      Again that thing about being divided by a common language.
      Certainly in the UK, a swimming costume is a common term for what women and girls wear, although it has often been used for the Speedo version of male attire. So much so that the term is frequently shortened to cosy (pronounced cauzay, with the emphasis on the first vowel).
      Anyway, whether sunflowers or love hearts, the story of a little girl who liked to fuck women is delightful.

  11. Donna & Meghan says:

    Loved it … we both loved it

    Thanks so much

    Donna & Meghan

  12. Unfastened Belts / Lisa says:

    Beautiful quickie. Thank you so much, Eva. 🙂

  13. Kev says:

    Lovely story , made me very hard. Wish I could find a girl like that😊😊

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