Jess and Lori
Copyright© 2026 by Unca D
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - An enema-lover's love story: Recently widowed mom Lori's 11 year old daughter Jessica needs a doctor-ordered enema due to the effects of an antibiotic. Lori phones Jess's uncle, who runs an on-line alt-health business. He arrives to coach Lori through the procedure. This piques Lori's interest and leads to romance as she explores the enema's potential for personal and erotic pleasure. If you're into enema eroticism this might be a story for you.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Anal Sex Enema Oral Sex Safe Sex Sex Toys
I rang the bell and Jessica answered the door. She was wearing cut-off jeans and a tee, and I couldn’t help noticing her long legs were looking less spindly than I remembered. “Hi, Jess,” I said. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah ... I went to school today.” She gestured at a stack of books and papers on a table in the living room. “That’s work I have to make up.”
“You’d better get started on it,” I replied.
“It isn’t due ‘til Monday.”
“That doesn’t mean you wait ‘til Sunday night to start it.”
“I know...” She glimpsed the case I was carrying. “Are you here to help Mom give me another enema?”
“No, Jess ... unless you want one.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Mom,” she yelled, “Unca-D is here!”
Lori stood in the doorway to her kitchen. “Lasagna will be out in a bit. Come sit ... Jess, do some homework before dinner.”
“Aw, Mom...”
“Do some reading then.”
Jessica began sifting through the pile of material. I sat at Lori’s kitchen table.
“Would you like a beer?” she asked.
“Sure...” She handed me one from her refrigerator and sat across from me. “Are you having second thoughts?” I asked. “Getting cold feet?”
She shook her head. “No, but I am as nervous as I was on Prom night...” She reached across the table and took my hand. “I want to thank you for being here for Jess ... for us ... the past year.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
“I’ve always been fond of you,” she continued, “admired you. When I was in high school I thought being a jock was important. Now I understand there’s more to a man than upper body strength...” She put her hand to her forehead. “I don’t know why I said that ... I wasn’t casting any aspersions...” She shook her head. “I don’t want you thinking I was unhappy with Jack ... I wasn’t...” Her eyes misted. “Oh, God ... It’s all coming out wrong...”
“I think I know what you’re trying to say.”
“You’ve been a rock ... a pillar ... the only one in Jack’s family who approved of me.”
“Lori, it’s okay ... I knew how good you were for Jack. You’re a sister to me and I’m head-over-heels for Jessica. I’ll do anything to help.”
“Thanks...” She wiped her eyes and glanced out the kitchen doorway. “You know ... Jess had a hundred and one questions about enemas this morning. I told her she’d have to ask her Unca-D about them tonight, so be prepared.”
“If she’s not too shy,” I replied.
“You know she’s not shy -- not around you.”
The oven timer buzzed. Lori took the lasagna out and called to Jess.
After dinner I sat at her table nursing a glass of wine as she washed dishes. “So, how’s your love life?” she asked me.
“Miserable. Yours?”
“Same.”
“Why not use the dishwasher?” I asked.
“It’s broken.”
“Get it serviced.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Just the truck fee is seventy-five dollars and I’m sure the parts will be over a hundred. I can’t afford that.”
“I’ll take a look at it, then. Do you have a screwdriver?”
“Second drawer.”
I lay on my stomach on her kitchen floor and poked at the machinery. “I do believe the water valve is jammed shut. Better that than jammed open, believe me.” I hoisted myself to a sitting position. “I’ll take down the model number and see if I can order a new valve. It should be in middle of next week.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“I’m almost done here,” she said.
“I’ll go see if Jess needs help with her homework.” I headed into the living room.
Jessica approached me carrying a thick book. I remembered when she acquired it. Her school library was selling discards and I bought it for her for a buck.
It was a science textbook about three grades ahead of where she was now. I knew she had read it all. She sat beside me and opened it to a chapter on the human body and turned pages until she found an illustration of the digestive system.
“Yes, that’s the colon,” I said as she pointed. “It takes what comes out of the small intestine, removes the water and stores it ‘til you can eliminate it. The antibiotic you’re taking for your ear infection slowed down the muscles, so the material was moving too slowly. Too much water got taken out and a hard mass formed here.” I pointed to the sigmoid colon on the diagram.
“How far in did the enema go?” she asked.
I pointed to the cecum on the diagram. “To here. The object was to fill your colon from end to end.”
Jessica lifted her tee and probed her abdomen, tracing the shape of her colon. “Could it go in further?” she asked.
“There’s a valve that keeps material from backflowing into the small intestine. If you had a very large enema some might be forced higher.”
“How much was it?” she asked.
“How much water? A quart. It was enough to fill your colon but not enough to be too uncomfortable. The enema didn’t hurt at all, did it?”
“Except for the cramps at the beginning, no.”
“It didn’t make you feel too full, either ... did it?”
“No ... It was hard to hold it, ‘cuz it made me wanna go so bad...”
“It probably felt good, pushing it out.”
“Yeah...”
“And afterward, you felt better, didn’t you?”
“A bunch better...”
I pointed to the illustration. “Here’s the stomach and the diaphragm ... See how close they are to your colon? That’s why sometimes if you have an upset stomach it’s really your colon that’s the cause. Before your enema you felt poorly in your stomach, didn’t you?”
“Yeah ... One time I wanted to see how much water my stomach would hold, so I drank until I couldn’t hold any more. Then I felt really too full ... my tummy was bulging out...” She lifted her shirt again and pressed her hand under her left ribcage. “ ... here.”
“How much water?” I asked.
“Ten glasses I think.”
“If those were six-ounce glasses, then you must’ve drunk nearly two quarts.”
“I read a human stomach can hold five pints.”
“That’s an adult’s stomach, Jess.”
“Then I barfed.”
“I’ll bet you did a lot of peeing even after you threw up.”
She gave me a sheepish smile. “Yeah ... Watch this...” Jessica began gulping mouthsfull of air. She lifted her tee and turned sideways so I could appreciate the bulge forming under her ribcage. “Feel...”
I pressed my hand against her belly. “Wow...” She thumped her stomach. “You sound like a ripe melon.”
She rolled her eyes back, opened her mouth and released a long belch.
“Jessica!” her mother exclaimed.
Jess put her fingers to her lips. “‘Scuse me...”
“Jessica, that was gross!”
“Oh, it’s okay, Lori -- I did the same sort of thing at her age. Didn’t you?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Why do I have to keep taking the antibiotic if I’m feeling okay now?” Jessica asked.
“Because the doctor wants to be sure all the germs are dead,” I replied. “Otherwise, the infection might start up again.”
“So I might need another enema.”
“We should cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“If I need one will you help give it to me?”
“That’s your mother’s bailiwick, now, Jess. I came last night to show your mom how to do it. Now she knows and she’ll be the one ... if you need one, that is.”
“Oh...”
“Are you disappointed?” Lori asked.
“Yeah ... Unca-D is gentle.”
“Oh! I’m insulted,” Lori protested. “I’m gentle, too.”
“Not the same way. Unca-D is interesting! He knows what he’s doing and we can talk about stuff...”
“Keep digging deeper, Jess,” I said. I glanced at Lori and saw she was suppressing a giggle.
“If you think you need one,” I said to Jessica, “don’t be shy about talking to your mother about it. She’s there for you and she knows how to take care of you.”
“I know...”
“And, she loves you very much.”
“I know...”
“You’re interested in the human body, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“I sell something on my website you might like. It’s called the Visible Woman. It’s a figure about this tall...” I held my hands about ten inches apart. “The skin is clear plastic. Inside’s a skeleton and all the internal organs...”
Jess’s eyes widened. “ALL of them?”
“All the important ones ... brain, heart, lungs, liver...”
“Stomach and intestines?” she asked.
“Of course. It comes both as a man and a woman. Since you’re a girl, I figured you’d rather have the female version.”
“Yeah.”
“You can take it apart ... dissect it ... and see how all the organs fit together. Would you enjoy that?”
“I sure would!”
“Then, I’ll bring one next time I come over. It’s kit and it’s a lot of work to assemble it ... especially a lot of detailed painting. We could work on it together, evenings. Would you like that?”
“Yeah!”
“After you’re caught up with your schoolwork, Jess,” Lori admonished.
“Yeah, Mom...”
“Now, it’s your bedtime.”
“Aw, Mom...”
“Get your jammies on and you can give Unca-D a hug and kiss.”
Jessica sprinted upstairs and returned in her flannel nightgown. “G’night,” she said and trudged back up the stairs.
“She’s quite a girl,” I said. “She is so smart ... so curious. Maybe she’ll want a career in health care.”
“Maybe...”
“Jess’s mind has an appetite. It’s our responsibility to feed it. To think -- most girls her age are occupied with Barbie dolls. She will enjoy that visible woman model. It even comes with parts that show pregnancy.”
“She’s a little young for THAT, don’t you think?” Lori replied.
“She’s bound to see pregnant women. I think it’d be healthy for her to know what’s going on inside. Maybe knowledge is dangerous, but ignorance is far worse.”
“I suppose you’re right about that. If my folks had done a better job teaching me about the birds and the bees -- things might’ve worked out differently for me.”
“And, we might not have a girl like Jess in our lives. Everything happens for a reason, Lori.” She approached me, took my hand and squeezed it. “What?”
“You always know the right thing to say.” She glanced up the stairs. “I think Jess is settled. Shall we get started?”
“Let’s figure out the logistics. It would be nice if you had a private bath.”
“Tell me about it,” she replied. “It was something Jack and I discussed often.”
“I’m worried about running so much water disturbing Jessica, with her room being next door to the main bath.”
“We could use the powder room down here,” she suggested.
“I wouldn’t want to set up shop down here. What if Jess got up in the middle of the night? Your bedroom is the best locale, since we can close the door. Do you have a large pitcher? I could lug water upstairs from the kitchen.”
Lori found a large polyethylene jug and handed it to me. “Take my case,” I said. “I’ll be right up.” I began running the water in the kitchen sink to bring it up to temperature. Then I filled the jug and carried it upstairs.
Her bedroom was small but neat. I set the jug onto her dresser. “Lori?” I called.
“I’m in here,” a muffled voice came from the closet. “I’m changing into something more comfortable.”
“Uhh ... Lori, you don’t...”
She stepped from the closet barefoot, in a white satin poet’s nightshirt. It was long-sleeved with lace cuffs and collar, and an embroidered bodice. It was short -- its hem cut across the upper thirds of her thighs.
I regarded her up and down. Lori had been the most beautiful girl in high school, with a shape like a fashion model’s and sweet, long legs. Now, a dozen years on, she had put on some weight. The few extra pounds looked good on her, though -- rounding her figure and softening it. Her legs weren’t as slender as a dozen years ago, but they were just as long and just as sweet. And, she still looked young -- not like a woman pushing thirty. She complained frequently of being carded in liquor stores and restaurants.
“Do you like?” she asked.
“It’s very pretty...”
“I wear this to bed when it starts getting cool in the fall.”
“You look gorgeous in it, Lori.” I picked up my case, set it on the bed and snapped it open. “You know, it’s not too late to call this off.”
“I’m going through with it.” I removed a combo water bottle/fountain syringe from my case and showed it to her. “That’s more elaborate than what you brought for Jess,” she remarked.
“This’ll give you years of service. I brought this because the converts are the most devout. I’m sure once you feel how good a cleaned-out colon feels you’ll be hooked.” I removed another object.
Lori picked it up. “A bulb syringe?”
“I thought it might be useful. Maybe you’d enjoy an old-fashioned over-the-lap bulb enema.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
She picked up a tube of personal lubricating gel and examined it. “That’s better than Vaseline for lubricating the nozzle.” I began assembling the fountain syringe. “My cost for one of these is only a few bucks, so don’t fret the costs.” I began pouring the contents of the jug into the bag.
“How much are you putting in that?” she asked.
“Two quarts.”
“I thought you said a pint for every fifty pounds.”
“That is an old hospital rule-of-thumb,” I replied.
“I do not weigh two hundred pounds. I don’t even weigh one-fifty.”
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