“Let's take off our pantyhose,” she said.

Having forced me to get up from the floor, my mother quickly pulled off my blue tights. I thought that she was going to change me into my pajamas, but my mother, with a smile, put a pot at my feet.

- Do you know what all children are supposed to do at bedtime? - She asked gently, - Pee in the pot.

Mom looked at me expectantly. For two weeks I, of course, got used to her, but writing in the pot in front of her ... I was still embarrassed about that.

“Come on, honey,” my mom called me again, “Pee in a potty like a big boy.”

Feeling how my mother raised my pussy, I blushed deeply.

“Letter-letter-letter,” she began to sentence tenderly, “Who will let the trickle go now?”

I looked down in embarrassment.

- Doesn't Sasha want to show his mother that he is already big and knows how to use the pot? - Mom did not let up, - Come on, zayonok. It is necessary to go before bedtime for a little.

Mom continued to gently persuade me for a couple of minutes. Realizing that she would not leave me alone, I gave up and began to write.

- That's it, - smiled mom, - Let's send a stream here, in the center of the pot.

Continuing to write with might and main in a pot, I did not know where to go from embarrassment. However, now I had to get used to this procedure.

“What a fine fellow,” my mother praised me, waiting for my trickle to dry up, “And now you need to shake the pisyunchik.” Like this. All pee.

Mom took my pot and went to the toilet with him. When she returned, she immediately took me to the bed - as he was, in one t-shirt.

“You sleep without pants,” she said, “It's warm now.”

Mom carefully covered me with a blanket.

- You are not described, right? - she looked at me uncertainly, - promise?

I nodded silently. Mom quickly leaned over and kissed my forehead.

“How sweet you are,” she smiled sweetly, “I would kiss and kiss.” Come on, roll over on your side, close your eyes and sleep.

Mom turned around and left the room. Yawning several times, I closed my eyes and fell into a shroud of sleep.

After sleeping, the pot was waiting for me again. This time my mother did not have to persuade me. I really wanted to write and, standing in front of the pot, I immediately sent a stream there.

- Well done, - my mother praised me, - I quickly understood why a pot is needed. Only need to still hold pisyunchik. Like this.

Mom lifted my pussy with fingers, making me blush

- Let's send Sasha a trickle to the pot, - she smiled, - And then you have already managed to splash the carpet.

After waiting for me to finish writing, Mom, as usual, shook the last drops into the pot. After that, she quickly pulled pantyhose on my legs and took me to the kitchen.

Seeing a glass of boiled milk on the table, I grimaced uncomfortably. However, the cinnamon bun lying next to it looked quite appetizing.

It was raining outside the window, so after an afternoon snack we stayed at home. First, my mother played a little with me on the carpet, and then turned on the TV. Hour and a half, we watched a tearful melodrama. I was absolutely not interested in the film - I just liked to sit on my mother’s lap.

Feeling that I want a little, I asked my mother for a pot.

- Now! - Mom responded happily and, taking off my tights, put in front of the pot, - Just a miracle, not a child!

I did not understand why she was so happy, but my mother could not calm down. This time I kept pussy myself. True, in the end, mom, not trusting me, shook her several times.

“We learned to ask for a little,” she smiled. “Now if you would have gone more ...”

Going to the toilet to pour out my pot, my mother returned to the sofa and we began to watch TV again.

It took about an hour.

- Is it constipation again? - mum worriedly frowned, - Come on, Sashulya, let's try to poop.

Mom took off my tights and put me on the pot.

“You have to poop, zayonok,” she said gently, “Now mom will massage your tummy.”

Mom started massaging my stomach, but apart from a few loud bunches, she did not achieve anything.

- And you do not just sit like that, - she said to me, - We must push.

Holding me on the pot for another five minutes and realizing that she was not going to achieve anything from me, my mother put tights on me and we returned to the sofa. Fortunately, the boring melodrama was replaced by cartoons. Feeling the urge to write again, I was about to ask for the pot when an unexpected doorbell rang.

- And here are the guests! - Mom perked up and, jumping up from the couch, ran into the hallway to open the door

I remembered that my mother really invited a couple of her friends to us for dinner. They came completely inappropriate. Having imagined what it would be like to ask in the presence of outsiders on the pot, I blushed deeply. You could forget about the pot. “I have to endure” - I thought with a heavy sigh.

“Hello, Sveta,” I heard an unfamiliar voice from the corridor.

“Hello girls,” Mom answered happily.

- Hello, hello, - another unfamiliar voice was heard, - Well, show us your toddler.

The guests entered the room. I sat on the carpet, pretending that I was playing with cars, although I peeked at my mom's friends. Two were young women of my mother's age. And as cute as mom. One of the women was holding a baby in her arms. Next to the second was a very young girl - the eighth grade, not more.

- What should a well-behaved boy say? - Mom asked me with a smile.

“Zavtuste,” I murmured.

- Hello, - the woman with the child smiled, coming closer to me, - Let's get acquainted. My name is Olya, and this, - the woman pointed at her baby, - Vityusha. And what is your name?

- Sasa! - I answered proudly.

“And this is Aunt Vika,” the mother introduced the second woman.

- And Nastya, - added Vika, nodding at the schoolgirl, - She begged to take her with her. I wanted to look at your baby.

- How quickly time flies, - mother sighed, - I Nastya remember very little. What class are you in? “Moved to ninth,” the girl replied.

The attention of the guests again turned to me.

“What a pretty one,” Vika smiled sweetly. “Well, how could this not be taken from the“ Orphanage ”.

“Yeah, such a cute little tot,” agreed Olya.

- How old is he? - asked Nastya.

“A year and eleven months,” said the mother, “In September we will celebrate the second day of jam.”

- And we had it last week, - said Olga, - While the first.

A one-year-old baby sitting on Olya’s arms suddenly grimaced and roared.

“I guess we need to change the diaper,” said Olya, feeling her little son between the legs, “Can I do this on the table?”

“Of course you can,” answered Mom. “You also ask.”

Olga took the baby to the changing table and began to quickly undress. Mom and Vika got up next to the table, watching their girlfriend messing with her little boy. After a couple of seconds, Nastya squeezed between them. She watched the scene with such interest, as if she was afraid to miss something important.

Sitting ... Read more →