Jess and Lori
Copyright© 2026 by Unca D
Chapter 7
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7 - 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 arrived home from work Thursday to find a package on my doorstep -- the valve for Lori’s dishwasher. I changed, grabbed the part and my toolbox and headed across town. I rang the bell and could see daylight in the peephole darken for an instant. Then the door swung open.
“Hi, Jess,” I said. “You’re a good girl -- checking the peephole before opening the door.” I regarded her. She was wearing a white cotton skirt with a tee and flip-flops. The skirt hem came two to three inches above her knees. “That’s quite an outfit.”
“Today was dress-up day. I wore this skirt, a nice blouse, pantyhose and dress shoes. When I got home I took off the pantyhose and changed my shirt, but all my shorts are in the wash and it’s too warm to wear jeans.”
“I’ll bet you looked very pretty,” I remarked. “You look nice in a skirt, Jess. I’ll bet, somewhere, is an eleven or twelve year old boy who you’ll make very happy someday ... and I hope he makes you happy, too.”
She curled her lip. “I don’t like boys.”
“When I was your age, I didn’t care for girls. I’ve learned better as I’ve gotten older. Now, I love girls. Girls are enchanted, magical beings. I’d much rather be with women than with other men.”
“Really?”
“Really. Women are more interesting ... and much more pleasing to the eye.” Jessica smiled. “Are you doing your homework?”
“Almost done.”
“I’ll order the pizza ... then while we’re waiting I’ll see if I can fix the dishwasher.”
“‘Kay...”
I had just about finished the repair job when the doorbell rang. I opened it and paid the delivery guy. “Dinner’s ready, Jess,” I called as I set the box on the kitchen counter and helped myself to a bottle of beer from Lori’s refrigerator.
Jessica took a piece from the box, put it on a plate and sat at the table. I watched her take a bite, then sit unenthusiastic ally with her chin in her palm.
“Jess -- something wrong?” She nodded. “What?”
“I need another enema. I need it bad, this time.”
“When was the last time...”
“Sunday.”
I counted on my fingers. “You probably knew you needed one last night, didn’t you?”
“Yeah...”
“Why didn’t you tell your mom?”
“I can’t talk to her about this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“If you really can’t ... well, you could’ve phoned me last night and told me and I would’ve told your mom.”
“Didn’t think of that...” She looked at me, her eyes filling. “Why can’t you come live with us? Then I’d always have someone I could talk to.”
I held her and kissed the top of her head. “It’s not easy to change a lifestyle. I don’t want to disrupt your or your mom’s routine. We’re working towards that but it can’t happen overnight. Understand?”
“Yeah...”
“You do have someone you can talk to -- your mom ... How bad is it?”
“I’m starting to feel sick to my stomach. I felt awful during school...”
“But you soldiered on...”
“Can you give me an enema ... now?”
“Now?”
“I can’t stand it much longer.”
“Jess -- I can’t give you an enema.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not proper.”
“How come Mom can and you can’t?”
“Because she’s your mother, but I’m not your father. It wouldn’t be ... appropriate for me to be touching an eleven- year-old girl’s bottom.”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“But I would ... Jess, I can’t do this for you but I can help you give yourself an enema. Are you willing?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh...”
She followed me into the bathroom. I located the pouch Lori and I had used for her previous treatments. “Let’s run some water,” I suggested, “to warm it up.”
Jessica held her hand in the stream. “How warm?”
“That depends. You’ve had a hot enema and a cool one. Which did you prefer?”
“I dunno...”
“Warmth is relaxing. If you’re really uncomfortable already, I’d suggest going with a warm one.”
“Is this okay?”
I felt the water. “That feels good. If you want to know if it’s too hot, see how it feels on your tongue.” She leaned over the sink and stuck her tongue out. “Put some in a glass, Jess.”
“I guess it’s not too hot.”
“Fill the pouch to the line 1,000. That’s about a quart.”
“I heard you tell Mom you thought I should have more than that.”
“If your colon is really full, I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t hold that much. Tell you what ... Fill it all the way and we’ll see how much you can take.”
“‘Kay...”
“Take the cover off the tip,” I instructed, “then, run some into the sink to flush air from the tube.” Jessica complied “Now, put some Vaseline on it on the tip and replace the cover ... Excellent.”
I grabbed a towel. “Let’s go into your room.”
Jessica carried the full pouch into her bedroom and set it on the foot of her bed. I spread the towel for her.
Jess complied, then she turned her back to me, reached up under her skirt and pulled down her briefs. She stepped from them, kicked off her flip-flops and sat on the bed.
“Jess -- lie on your back. I want to feel your belly.” I probed her abdomen through the fabric. “Are you done taking the antibiotic?”
“I took the last pill today.”
“With any luck in a day or two you’ll be back to normal.”
“I hope so.”
“Here,” I said and guided her fingers. “Feel here?”
“Yeah...”
“This is your sigmoid colon and it is packed. We’re going to try to get the enema to fill your colon above it, here...” I pointed on her belly. “That way you can use your muscles to squeeze your colon and the water will push out the blockage.”
“I get it ... Like squeezing a tube of toothpaste when it’s dried and plugged at the end.”
“Precisely. And, that’s why warm water is better -- it’ll relax your colon so the water can flow in easier.” I picked up the pouch, slipped the cover from the tube and stood by her shoulders. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Start on your left side.” I handed her the enema tip. “You know where this goes.”
Jessica rolled onto her side and pulled up her hem, then worked the tip in. “How far?”
“About three inches or so.” I held up my thumb and forefinger.
“‘Kay...”
“I’ll hold up the bag since we don’t have any way to hang it. Slide open the clamp and remember -- deep breathing if you start to cramp.”
She fingered the clamp and held onto the tube. I watched her take sharp, deep breaths through her mouth. The water level in the bag fell slowly.
“Jess, why don’t you roll onto your back...” She started to roll over. I pinched the tube in case the tip slipped out. “Is the tube still in place?”
She reached under her skirt. “Yeah...”
“Good.” I released the tube, held up the bag and regarded it. It was slow going. Jessica must be experiencing some serious back-pressure, I figured. Coaxing that much water past an impaction requires considerable determination and Jessica had it. I was pleased we had the talks about anatomy and with our efforts with Andrea. Jess knew what had to be done and why. She was taking her cure like a big girl.
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