"A Letter from your Worst Nightmare"
(Mg, preteen, inc, cons, politics)
Written by and copyright 2001 Admiral Cartwright, a pseudonym. It
is intended solely for the entertainment of its audience. Any
publication, reproduction, retransmission or other use of the
descriptions and accounts herein without the express written
consent of Major League Baseball is prohibited.
Unless, of course, you ask the author first (e-mail address
provided below).
Distribution of this material or of any predecessor(s) for profit
and/or with this information abridged shall constitute a violation
of copyright law and may result in some serious shit.
(Warning: the following explicitly depicts sexual activity that
may be frowned upon and/or illegal. Reading further constitutes
your assertion that you are enough to understand and accept
the nature of the material hereinafter, and the author assumes no
responsibility for your decisions -- or your repressions.)
Archived at
http://www.asstr.org/~Cartwright
http://www.storiesonline.net
http://www.mrdouble.com/htm/raauthors/admiralcartwright.htm
Author's Note: This is it, the last ever to be written by
Admiral Cartwright. It's been a hell of a ride, but the creative
juices have ebbed, and it's time to hang up the word processor.
Aside from 'Joanne and Lexi', which was written several years ago,
I first got the itch to write erotica when I read a number of
"pedo" that illogically turned children into horny
teenaged coeds. I set out to do something more realistic. Since
then, the quality of writing has improved immensely (modestly or
otherwise, I like to think I had a small hand in that) and, as a
colleague so aptly stated, I had an itch, and I've scratched it.
I would like to express my sincere thanks to everyone from whom
I've received support and kind words, including Janey, Denny,
Stephen, BillyG, Frank, Fidelius, Celeste (even if we disagree
about 'Double Take' -- heh heh), and a bunch of others far too
numerous to mention. Thanks on behalf of readers everywhere to
Rey, Lazeez and Mr. Double for providing free repositories for my
work; and to Usenet for providing the forum. Finally, thanks to
you, dear reader: Without you, I would never have continued as
long as I have.
I hope you enjoy my swan song.
Giving Credit Where Due: The political rant was inspired in part
by 'Leave the Children' by Pedro Vila. From it, I finally created
the context in which to place a few scrambled ideas.
A Letter from your Worst Nightmare
Dear Parent:
Ms. Castilleja already was waiting for me as I was ushered into
the small, simple room this morning. A single wooden bench spanned
the distance between four booths, each with no more than a
telephone, a metal countertop, and heavy glass teasing me with
life on the outside.
We each took our respective positions -- hers in a far more
comfortable chair -- and picked up a receiver. "Good morning,
Mister Phelps," she beamed.
My smirk was almost imperceptible. "I see the television was YOUR
babysitter, too, eh?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Never mind," I finished, brushing off the question in her eyes. I
held her gaze, however, in an effort to see into the person behind
those eyes and, perhaps, to shake her up. Just a little.
It worked.
"So-o-o-o..." she began nervously.
"So, miz court-appointed psychiatrist," I continued for her, with
but a trace of sarcasm, "why am I here, and you're out there?"
Her tone was more patronizing even than my own. "Um, because a
court of law decided that you need to be kept separate from the
rest of civilization."
"I see. And, just what the hell is 'civilization', anyway?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.
"Consider the who looks at child pornography, almost every
day," I answered. "He does it at work; he does it at home. He
finds his victims and stalks them, relentlessly; sometimes, they
never escape. Lives are ruined in the name of his twisted desire.
But, he's convinced that what he's doing is for your own good, and
he'll convince you, too.
"Sound like anyone you know?"
My shrink-without-a-choice shifted uncomfortably in her chair,
gripping the receiver hard, staring into my eyes from the other
side of the glass. "The pedophile," she began evenly, "will say or
do anything to justify his actions."
I smiled; a cold, almost sad smile. "I wasn't referring to the
pedophile," I explained. "I was talking about the law enforcement
officer who persecutes him."
Ms. Castilleja blinked. Suddenly looking much younger and more
frail than her late-20s-and-perfectly-pressed visage, she regarded
me for a moment before closing her mouth and hanging up the
receiver.
She rose, shaking visibly, then turned and walked out without so
much as looking back. I was quite certain I'd never see her again.
~~
My name is Harold Phelps, but you may call me Hal. Yes, I'm in
prison.
First, I must serve three years for felony possession of child
pornography, then an additional eight years for using it to seduce
a child under 14. Okay, technically, I'll serve eighty-five
percent of those eleven years, called a "determinate term"; the
"indeterminate term" follows, 25 years minimum, to life -- the
same as if I'd murdered someone.
Why? It's called "Three Strikes and You're Out," and it's the law
in California and many other states. Three serious felonies,
you're imprisoned for good, or awfully close. Only, they managed
to pull it off against me, a with no prior criminal record,
all in a single trial.
How, you ask?
Six have come to me over the years -- that's right,
THEY came to ME -- desperate for the attention they could not get
at home. Somewhere along the line, one of them let slip that I had
nasty pictures on my computer, or that I was sexually active with
them, and law enforcement took over. Detectives and psychiatrists
convinced three of my "victims" to testify, on videotape,
questioned only by "The People" with no cross-examination, and no
objection. I never got to face "my accusers".
True, my attorney was able to interview the and, afterwards
-- at my instruction -- he presented an unusual and unpopular
defense: That each would, by her own admission, choose to
continue a relationship with me if given that option.
I'll give you three guesses how the jury responded...
The bombshell came when the prosecution argued at the sentencing
hearing that my "acts" with each of my "victims" should be treated
as separate and distinct crimes, thus eligible for a lifetime
behind bars.
Probation officers noted my lack of remorse, and agreed; so did
the judge. Have you ever heard the phrase, "throw the book at
him"?
My life, as I knew it, was over.
~~
The Beginning:
I can thank Deputy District Attorney Art Horst (that's A. Arthur
Horst, Esq., to you) for that. We stayed very close friends even
after I left law school to "pursue other interests." Several years
ago, we happened to meet up at a local social function, and he
took me aside. "I've about had it with my job, I don't know how
much more I can take of this," he confided.
"Of what?" I asked.
"I'm heading the Crimes Against Children Arm now, and that means I
get to put child abusers away," he started. "What's wrong with
that?" I countered, honestly. "Well, these fucks usually have tons
of kiddy porn," he continued. "I have to look through it; I have
to find images vile enough to prove my case to a jury, but not so
horrendous that I'm making them throw up, and beg off the case.
"Very few people have to look at that stuff, and I have to
remember what used to turn my stomach, but only a little. Now,
I've seen so goddamn much of that shit that I don't trust my own
judgment anymore."
Up until that moment, I'd never seen a pornographic image
involving a child, nor had I looked at anyone much younger than 15
in a sexual way. Seriously. "Oh, come on," I said, quite familiar
with adult porn myself, "it can't be that bad."
His look was of disdain. "Tell you what... meet me at the office
tomorrow, and see if you don't agree with me."
~~
The look on Art's face the following morning told me he'd meant
what he said: 'I'd like to be anywhere else but here right now.'
On his computer was what would turn out to be a rather tame image,
by comparison; an obviously adult penis violating the obviously
immature rectum of a very girl. The image was shocking, to
say the least... but I didn't find it revolting.
Not that I was going to let Art in on that, mind you. I acted as
disgusted as I thought appropriate.
"My God, how is she?" "About six," he responded.
Some of the pictures he proceeded to show me over the next 20
minutes or so actually were quite disgusting; many involved
masochistic poses, or children crying in obvious pain, forced to
endure God knows what WASN'T photographed.
But, there were others.
In many of the images, the child seemed to be enjoying herself --
sometimes HIMself. Most involved a fellating an adult male,
sometimes deeply; often, fresh semen could be seen shooting onto
girls' bodies, onto faces, into open mouths. One smiled as
she seemed to be swallowing her partner's hot load. Penetration
usually involved the anus of the younger girls, but many of those
about nine years and up were fucked vaginally, to their
seeming enjoyment.
It was then I realized, not quite in horror, that I was enjoying
these apparently consensual poses. I was thankful that my tight
briefs were hiding the throbbing erection constrained within. How
would I explain that to my friend?
"Art," I began, "you're right. I don't see how you can stand to
look at this shit day after day." Every two or three days,
maybe...
I was hooked.
(Okay, let's be fair: It sounds like I'm blaming Art for this, and
I'm not, really -- even though he ended up prosecuting me [my
attorney unsuccessfully argued "conflict of interest"]. All he did
that day, I'm sure, was awaken a sleeping desire I either wasn't
aware of, or had been suppressing. But, by then, the beast was
loose.)
~~
Girl Number One:
At the time I first saw those nasty pictures, my was five
years old, but she preferred to hang out with in the
neighborhood. That was both good and bad for Lori: a very
intelligent little lady, most her own age could not engage
her in stimulating conversation, but most often acted,
especially in groups, like Lori wasn't even there. That her,
and me as her father.
Lori, at five, was not a sexual being to me in any way. Some of
her friends, on the other hand...
Brittany was nine years old. I don't think her name really was
"Brittany" -- the rest of her Hispanic had ethnic-
appropriate names -- but she was something of an outcast,
desperate to fit in anywhere, and likely made up whatever fit the
moment.
The was born deformed; a problem with the development of her
right side had left her shoulder hunched and one leg obviously
shorter. It was such a shame that other children couldn't see past
that to her face, because she was amazingly pretty.
I noticed.
Brittany seemed to like the attention I gave the when they
were playing, and I took a chance one morning. Leaving my bedroom
to find that my already had invited Brittany inside to
play Nintendo (I gently scolded her for it later), I sat in the
armchair beside the nine-year-old and let the head of my penis
poke out of my loose-fitting shorts. My first sexual charge came
only moments later, when she noticed.
Brittany actually seemed to be salivating at the sight!
Naturally, seeing that reaction gave me a raging hard-on, and all
six-and-a-half inches of throbbing adult cock soon were hers to
see. I had to readjust my position slightly to avoid showing off
to my as well but, when she wasn't playing her turn,
Brittany couldn't take her eyes off my member. Indeed, she seemed
to be "killing" herself at the game far too quickly so she could
turn her attention back to our "game".
As if that wasn't forward enough, the little volunteered to
retrieve a toy she saw under the chair -- and, not coincidentally,
under me -- to get a closer look at a huge (well, to her) hard-on
now pointing straight at her. I certainly did not object; indeed,
I leaned back slightly to give her a better view.
The question was, how forward would she be, especially with my
daughter in the room? (My would not be home for about 45
minutes; we worked graduating shifts to avoid having to put Lori
in day care, and she also worked some weekends, like today.)
Getting an idea, I yawned obviously, and pretended to nod off in
the chair. Peeking carefully, I could see Brittany inch closer to
me between turns on the Nintendo. Finally, my announced a
little too loudly that she had to use the potty and, seconds
later, I saw a hand reaching for my pulsing meat.
Brittany took my cock into her hand softly, as if trying not to
awaken me, and slid back and forth a few times, getting the feel
of my engorged, slightly spongy head and rock-hard shaft. She
seemed as knowledgeable as she was gentle, and I wondered just how
desperate to "fit in" she'd already been with a man.
Just then, the flushed, and Brittany's hand returned to her
side. With the ice broken, however, she'd soon get even more bold.
Whenever Lori was playing, her nine-year-old friend tried to sit
in such a way that she was between me and my daughter, so Lori
couldn't tell what Brittany's right hand was doing. It was back on
my cock in a flash, gently rubbing, prodding, feeling and
otherwise playing with her new toy. Once, she surprised me by
leaning over and licking the pre-cum from the tip, sending an
electric charge that made my hair stand up. I moaned, slightly,
hoping Brittany would keep it up (heh heh).
The doorbell rang, breaking the spell. Pretending to wake up, I
readjusted myself and let Lori answer the door. It was Brittany's
big sister, and our little friend had to leave. "Thanks for
coming, see you again soon," I said, perhaps a bit too
enthusiastically.
A few minutes later, in the bathroom, my own hand felt better than
ever!
~~
I saw Brittany again on Wednesday, as I arrived home from work
mid-afternoon. My already had gone to bed (thanks goodness
for the heavy drapes in the bedroom) and the was
babysitting, more or less. She had to leave a few minutes later,
though, and I had no chance to try the next step.
Friday would be different. Friday, Brittany was over to play
again, my was in bed again, and this time I was back in my
shorts and relaxing with a cold beer in a flash. Again, Brittany
paid close attention to my cock as it stood from confinement like
a lone soldier out of formation.
Asking Brittany if I could play some of her turns on the Nintendo,
I sat directly behind her on the coffee table. Turned towards me,
she'd get a face full of cock, and she did; but she was afraid to
touch me while I was "awake".
So, I tried to take more of a lead.
When it was her turn, or Lori's, I'd massage Brittany's back and
shoulders, occasionally reaching toward the front and brushing my
hands over two slight bumps where her someday would be.
Perhaps getting the hint, she began to lean back when I'd rub her,
and my hard cock would rest on her cheek. She seemed to like that,
but she wouldn't take any further initiative. Somehow, I had to
get the point across that it was okay.
An idea hit me a few minutes later as her head rested against my
leg, her face inches from my hard-on. I "died" quickly to end my
turn at the game, and told Brittany there was something in her
eye. Holding the back of her head, I gently wiped away at an
imaginary speck of something while gently touching the head of my
penis to her lips. They parted slightly, and I gently pulled her
head a tiny bit closer. I could feel her teeth on the tip of my
hard cock, and I kept brushing at the "speck" in her eye, hoping
her mouth soon would open.
Finally, she obliged, and I pulled her head slightly toward me
again. When the head of my cock was fully in her mouth, Lori's
turn ended, and Brittany let me pop from her mouth and went back
to the Nintendo. She played a bit longer this time, as if she
wasn't sure she should return to what she was doing with me, but
her turn soon was over. Turning toward me again, Brittany seemed
to have a question in her expression, glancing between my legs and
back up to my eyes.
I smiled, and nodded "yes".
Brittany smiled, took hold of my penis with one hand, and let it
enter her mouth again, this time much deeper. I tried not to moan
too loudly; God forbid Lori should look around and see what we
were doing. Her friend hardly was an expert fellatrix, but
Brittany was pretty damned good for a nine-year-old.
Like I had any experience on which to base that statement...
For the next fifteen minutes, we alternated between playing with
the Nintendo and with each other, as I occasionally caressed her
tit-bumps or her immature through her clothing while
receiving slowly improving head. Silently, I showed her how to use
her tongue and, soon, the only downside was when it was our turn
at the game.
Brittany was busy with the controller when I heard my bedroom door
open, and my went in to use the bathroom.
Whew. Nice timing.
~~
I didn't see my new little lover for more than a week after that,
and I had to admit I got a little worried. Nevertheless, I had to
figure I wasn't in any trouble, or I'd have been arrested by now.
Besides, I knew Brittany had had at least a little experience with
a man, so it was less likely that she'd tell; that was the reason
I was so bold with her in the first place. Now, though, I wondered
if we'd gone too far, too fast.
Sunday morning, I awoke to find Brittany playing games with Lori.
Gently chiding my again ("Please wake me up and ask me
first, okay?"), I then said hello to her friend. The nine-year-old
smiled brightly, with a twinkle of wickedness in her eyes.
That was a relief!
We played 'Sorry!' while Brittany occasionally reached under the
table to play with my dick, again poking obscenely from my shorts.
After a short while, I got the hint, and began caressing her upper
thighs and, to my surprise, her naked pussy. She was wearing
nothing under her skirt!
Lori got bored soon, and wanted to play with another friend next
door. She invited Brittany, and the two of them left. My wife, who
usually gets home at about 7:30am, was asked to stay late, and she
had agreed, so I was alone in the house and decided to hop into
the shower. I was just rinsing off when the doorbell rang; it was
Brittany. She said she had told my and our next-door
neighbor that she had to go home, and came here to see me instead.
I looked out to see if anyone was watching; with no one in sight,
I let her in.
Brittany heard the shower running, and peeled off her clothes,
pulling me behind her. I didn't know exactly when my would
come home, and I told Brittany so. She looked crestfallen.
Except, I had an idea. Shutting off the shower and throwing
Brittany's clothes into the bathroom, I led her back into the
living room and laid her on the couch closest to the door. My
hadn't taken her keys to work, knowing I'd be home all day, and I
locked the door, explaining that she'd have to knock to get in. If
need be, Brittany could run into the bathroom and put her clothes
back on, and I'd throw my t-shirt and shorts on, open the door,
and say Lori's friend dropped by and had to use the bathroom
before heading next door.
It was perfect, or so we hoped.
The nasty little vixen on the couch in front of me had her legs
splayed and was rubbing herself the entire time I was contriving
our explanations, and I lost all sense of control, diving in to
that soft, hairless muff. Brittany tasted good, really good --
almost sweet. I allowed the tip of my tongue to trace a gentle
line up one tiny lip and down the other, almost as if
applying eyeliner. Stopping at her engorged clit, I flicked my
tongue gently up and down, then back and forth, causing her legs
to twitch involuntarily. Within moments, her opened much
wider than it should have under pressure from my tongue, and I
decided to test her virginity with my finger, only to find it a
thing of the past.
How desperate, indeed, I thought.
Standing up, I guided her mouth to my penis, asking her to get it
nice and wet. Slicked-up within just a few seconds, I returned to
my knees and guided my cockhead to her little hole. My harder-
than-usual prick slipped in with only a little difficulty, and
Brittany seemed distressed only for a moment; then, her jaw fell
open, her head fell back, and she let out a guttural moan that
argued with her youth.
All six-and-a-half inches of Hal Phelps slid in and out of this
nine-year-old girl's love hole, and we both seemed to be loving
every minute. Her tight sleeve felt like a silken glove made for
me alone; I would not be long for this journey.
I wondered, honestly, if this could come with me; I had
no idea, not having any previous experience with these things. I
tried tickling her nipple-bumps, and she shuddered, riding my cock
a little harder. Licking a finger, I moved it to her little clit
to see if that would help. Almost instantly, her body stiffened,
she let out a short "Ack!" and began to shake as if electrocuted.
My building orgasm began at that instant, filling her immature
pussy with my hot come, and I pumped until I had nothing left.
Resting on my hands so as not to smother this little under
me, I could hear only my heart thumping in my ears, and our ragged
breathing. It seemed like several minutes before Brittany opened
her eyes and smiled at me. I leaned down, kissing her for the
first time, and her tongue dueled expertly with mine.
"Thank you," I breathed. She giggled. "Thank you!"
Brittany used the bathroom, put on her clothes, gave me a goodbye
kiss and skipped out the door.
I never saw her again; I was at work when she said she was moving,
and bade a tearful goodbye to Lori and my wife.
Ah, well.
~~
Girl Number Two:
Kailyn was as opposite from Brittany as two people could be: WASP
through and through, Kailyn was towheaded, fair-skinned and well
shaped for her nine years. Closer to ten, really, she'd already
developed fair-sized breastlets, amazingly soft and spongy to the
touch. Her unusually narrow waist set off her developing hips just
a bit too much, in my opinion; but that didn't make her any less
sexy.
Apparently, her thought so, too, but I was convinced he was
abusing the little girl. She cringed in obvious fear every time
she heard his voice, cross or not. I constantly caught her rubbing
her crotch, but in a manner that suggested she was in pain.
Another hint lay in the fact that she was always asking me for
hugs.
I built Kailyn's trust slowly; gently caressing non-sensual parts
of her body anytime she was within arm's reach. Of course, Kailyn
was very ticklish, so I had to rub just hard enough to avoid
making her jump through the ceiling.
One afternoon, she and Lori were watching something on when
Kailyn spread herself across my lap, face down, and asked softly
for a backrub. With one hand (the other held my drink), I massaged
just hard enough to work out the kinks in her muscles, and
she melted into my lap, the warmth almost radiant.
Working ever so slowly, I slipped one narrow strap of her blouse
over Kailyn's shoulder, and rubbed there. Her heart seemed to
pound for a moment, then slowed again. Gently pinching the span
between her shoulder and neck, I worked gradually to her hairline,
easing some more tension and bringing a soft moan from her lips.
The other shoulder strap soon followed its twin, and I made it
slowly to Kailyn's upper back, skin-on-skin. By now, she was
downright hot to the touch, and enjoying every squeeze of my
fingers. Slowly, I pushed her blouse toward her waist; soon, she
pushed it herself the rest of the way.
Leaning forward, I put my drink on the table, and began to rub
with both hands. Kailyn jumped, squealing that my hand was cold!
(Oops!) Apologizing, I rubbed my hands together until they felt
warm, and I resumed my ministrations. Lori had heard the squeal
and came over to us, asking why Kailyn's was almost off. I
explained that backrubs usually feel better without clothing in
the way, and asked her if it was okay to massage her friend. "Only
if I get one, too," she replied, then returned to her program.
Yup. Too smart for my own good. (Yes, she got a backrub later.)
I had never seen Kailyn more relaxed; in fact, I thought she'd
fallen asleep. Gently tickling her ribs made her jump and roll
halfway away from me, complaining (with a big smile), "Don't do
that!" I smiled back, and noticed that her growing chest was
exposed for me to see. "Wow," I said, "you're really becoming
quite the lady already. They're beautiful," I added, hoping
the compliment would stop her from rolling back over.
"Thanks," she said with a giggle and an honest smile, and no trace
of modesty. As if answering my unspoken desire, she turned the
rest of the way onto her back, and began watching whatever it was
Lori was watching.
By then, I'd long since stopped paying attention to the TV. You
could hold a gun to my head right now, and I wouldn't remember
what was on.
Kailyn's seeming invitation notwithstanding, I was not about to
move too fast, and break her trust. I began a gentle, one-handed
massage of her belly. She did not complain when I brushed above
her ribcage, so I kept moving very slowly upwards. Her breathing
did quicken a bit, however, when I ran my hand up her breastbone
between two tiny globelets. Geez, even *I* felt an electric charge
as my thumb passed within about an inch of her swelling areola.
Her head turned from the television to face straight up, and her
eyes closed. Without any doubt, now, I had her permission to
proceed.
Rubbing just hard enough to avoid tickling her, I crossed from
breastlet to shoulder to the other side, trying not to pay too
much attention to the buds alone. Her tiny nipples distended just
enough to scratch my palm slightly each time I made a pass.
Kailyn's chest rose and fell rapidly now, excited by my touch.
"Why is your dick hard?"
Why, indeed, I thought. She was not alone in her new journey to
pleasure: My penis was throbbing, and poking Kailyn in the back.
"Well," I answered, choosing my words carefully, "when a beautiful
girl enjoys being with me..."
It was then I noticed her use of language: A boy's name for his
penis.
"My 'dick'," I finished, "enjoys her company, too."
Staring straight into mine, Kailyn's eyes betrayed her terror --
sheer terror, it seemed -- but she made no effort to move. I
smiled. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to do."
The nine-year-old actually looked puzzled, as if she'd never been
given that option before. Considering the circumstances just for a
moment, she smiled, reached up for a long hug, and laid back down
over my lap, and the throbbing meat in the middle.
As I resumed my gentle caress upon her chest, my hands
reveling in the silken, marshmallowy texture below them, I decided
I'd take things no further than that -- just yet.
~~
Kailyn was back the next day, wearing a one-piece bathing suit
that showed off her pre-womanly charms all too well. For a while,
she mostly ignored me, playing games with Lori instead. Every now
and again, though, she'd look at me and smile sweetly.
I wondered for a moment if she was testing my promise that I
wouldn't force her into anything. Perhaps so; it took more than an
hour of playtime before Kailyn approached me. When she did,
however, she asked again for a backrub. "Absolutely," I responded,
and Kailyn immediately pulled the straps of her suit down over her
shoulders, exposing her buds to me yet again, before
settling across my lap.
This time, my cock responded almost immediately; and, this time,
Kailyn was more forward.
Sliding slightly off my lap, the almost-ten-year-old moved one
hand up to my knee and the other to my hip, allowing my pulsing
manhood to touch her arm through the material of my shorts, loose
enough to allow my nearly-seven-inch erection to stand almost
straight up. She stared at the bulge for the longest time as my
hands worked the muscles in her back, and then reached
almost under the bathing suit to the very edge of her round
bottom.
As if getting the hint, Kailyn used both hands to pull her suit
down over her soft cheeks. As her hands moved back up, one rested
quite obviously next to my hard-on.
If I wasn't experienced with preteen already -- if only
barely -- I might've come right there.
I decided to take something of a lead for a moment, and reached
toward the leg of my shorts, pulling them up to expose myself, so
erect I almost hurt. Leaving the next step to her, my hands then
found their way back to the softness of her ass, and I
kneaded her cheeks firmly.
For a while, Kailyn continued to do no more than stare at my
prick. Slowly, she moved her hand to my balls and tested them, as
if truly exploring a man's sex for the first time. She tickled and
hefted them, comparing the size of each with the other, and my
engorged cock truly was in pain by the time she finally allowed
her fingertips to explore the shaft.
I almost jumped when her tongue replaced her fingers on the
wrinkled skin of my scrotum.
Kailyn was very slow, as if pushing herself to take each step.
Like licking an ice cream cone, her tongue traced a line straight
up the shaft to the head of my cock. There was no flicking of the
tongue, like a more experienced woman would do, but a gentle trail
straight from one point to the other. Nevertheless, since this is
the most sensitive part of my penis, it was nearly electric.
It took everything I had not to shove Kailyn off of me when I
noticed to my horror that Lori was watching intently. Putting my
finger to my lips, I urged her silence, and motioned that
everything was okay. Lori complied, clearly fascinated.
(Later, I told my that Kailyn sometimes acted as if an
adult she knew was forcing her to do sex things -- the basic facts
of life were explained to Lori already, so she knew what "sex
things" were -- and I wanted to give her friend the chance to try
it at her own pace. Naturally, I also mentioned that adults and
kids aren't really supposed to do it even if they want to, so I
was risking a lot of trouble. Lori said she understood, and
bounded off to play.)
Kailyn continued to use her tongue tentatively, as if she were
afraid of what my penis might do otherwise. I used my fingers to
point my hard cock straight at her, and she licked the tip in much
the same way.
"I'll bet it'll fit nicely into your mouth," I offered. "Okay, but
don't push," she said.
Ah ha. Got it, I said to myself.
Allowing only the head to slide in at first, her tentative lips
moved back and forth only a little. When I didn't prod her any
further, she decided I was good to my word, and let a little more
slide in. Soon, her tongue was getting into the act; no doubt the
result of someone's previous instructions.
That was all I could take. "I'm going to squirt some stuff,
sweetie," I warned. She stopped moving and began to jack me off
with her hand, the head of my penis still inside her mouth, once
again as if those were her orders. "You can keep moving your mouth
if you want," I suggested, and she smiled, moved her hand away,
and resumed sucking.
"There's a lot... get ready... YEAH!" I almost screamed, as orgasm
took over my body. My first squirt was powerful, and she almost
choked. Kailyn held her breath and moved back and forth in shorter
strides, taking not much more than the head past her lips. Pumping
repeatedly, I was sure her mouth must've been full, but nothing
leaked out. She looked into my eyes, and hers were smiling. When
finally I stopped ejaculating, Kailyn swallowed and gave me a huge
smile. "Wow, that's a lot nicer than Da-- um, I mean my, uh, you,
that tastes really good!"
I wasn't so drained that my face didn't show my surprise. Ignoring
what she ALMOST said, I asked, "Really? You like that?" Of course,
I'd never tasted my own cum; neither had my wife, for that matter
-- not much into that sort of thing. "Yeah, that's good!" she
finished.
I looked over to where Lori had been sitting. Seeing nothing
exciting, apparently, she'd gone back to her toys.
"Kailyn," I asked, "may I do the same for you?"
Uncertainty gave way to mild enthusiasm. "Um... okay."
Leaning to my side to lie on the couch, I motioned Kailyn on top
of me. It took a few moments for her to get the idea; clearly, no
one had done this for her before. With a throw pillow under my
head and her pretty little cheeks pointing straight up into the
air, I let my tongue make its first contact with Kailyn's soft
vulva.
Not surprisingly, she jumped, squealing like a little after a
poke to the ribs. "I know, it tickles a bit," I said, "but you'll
get used to it." She settled back down, and my tongue resumed its
journey into this forbidden fruit. The more I tasted, the more
Kailyn melted, and soon she was purring over my reawakening cock,
kissing and licking it to full staff once again.
I began eating her with a little more enthusiasm, and she took my
cock back into her mouth, down more than half. That forced
me to crane my neck toward her sex somewhat, but I wasn't
complaining. Seconds later, I felt that familiar twitch in her
legs, and she screamed through her nose as her body stiffened;
jerking hard, then stopping, then jerking hard again, on-again
off-again, until she literally collapsed, accidentally shoving my
cock all the way into her throat.
The weirdest thing happened then: I felt Kailyn choke once, then
her breathing returned to a ragged-but-regular pace, with my cock
still past her gullet! She was breathing fine, so I let her come
back to Earth for a couple of minutes.
"Kailyn," I began when her breathing was near normal, "did you
know my dick is all the way down your throat?" She slid it out
completely, then slid it all the way back in. "Wow, I can do
that?" she asked, proud of herself. "Yeah," I said, "and you'll
probably make me come again if you keep it like that!"
I think she said "Cool!" before I disappeared into her throat
again, well on my way to feeding my new little lover for a second
time.
~~
For the next couple of weeks, every time Kailyn came over, either
she brought another friend with her or my was awake. We
weren't able to do anything else for a while. I did notice
something, however: Kailyn hadn't been rubbing her crotch in pain
lately.
I found out why soon afterwards: Kailyn lived about a block away,
but her grandparents were right across the street from our house.
She stayed there as often as her would let her.
~~
Kailyn came over one afternoon when my and our were
seeing the pediatrician for a routine appointment. Her timing was
perfect; since we had only one car at the time, my would
not be home until I picked them up.
As luck would have it, though, Kailyn wouldn't let me touch her
baby-soft pubes that day. She was too sore, she said. She did, on
the other hand, want to suck me again, and I leaned back to let
her go to work. Lifting my shorts, Kailyn noticed that I'd only
begun to stir at the thought of another wonderful from
this little lady, and I fought to keep from getting hard too fast.
She caressed the blood-filled tube gently with her whole hand,
feeling the soft skin before the shaft had the chance to thicken.
"Why isn't it getting hard?" she asked. "I'm trying not to," I
answered, "because you looked like you wanted to touch it while it
was soft."
Kailyn smiled, leaned over, and took all four inches or so of soft
cock into her mouth. Using a technique she'd already learned from
someone at whom I could wage a fair guess, she tickled the
underside of my cock with her tongue, and I could no longer fight
off my erection. As my blood pumped southward, engorging my penis,
Kailyn gagged for one brief instant as the growing head passed the
threshold to her throat, but she held fast. Soon, an intense hard-
on was obvious only by the widened "O" of her lips.
"Whoa, damn," I breathed. "You're good!"
Still tracing the underside with her tongue, Kailyn backed slowly
off of my throbbing meat until it nearly popped from her mouth,
then slid back down just as slowly until my pubic hair tickled her
nose. Growing weak from the sheer perfection of the feeling, I let
my head fall back into my easy chair and reveled in the pleasure
of this nine-year-old's mouth.
To this moment, I can't quite describe it. How do you put into
words what feels almost like silk, if silk could be hot and wet
and slippery?
Even that scarcely does it justice.
With every stroke, Kailyn took it all as if looking for more,
where I had no more to give. A slow boil began from somewhere
seemingly beneath me, and I regained my senses long enough to find
out just how nasty she really could be. "Open your mouth," I
commanded gently, and she obliged. "Show me your tongue." Almost
the moment I saw the pink wetness, I began to squirt, so hard that
the first shot missed her tongue entirely and landed in her
throat. Each jet that followed had better aim, covering her little
tongue until the pink was almost gone. Kailyn's eyes were fixed on
mine, as if deriving pleasure from my pleasure; the corners of her
mouth were turned up in a slight smile.
Admiring my handiwork, I kidded that it was a shame we were out of
film, otherwise I could take a really naughty picture. Kailyn
snorted slightly with laughter, and I asked, "Would you like to
swallow all that hot stuff?" I asked. She nodded.
I smiled. "Eat it all up."
All patience gone, Kailyn's tongue was back in her mouth in a
flash, and she swallowed what must have been at least a tablespoon
of my cum. Suddenly, the "little girl" was back as she jumped up
and into my lap, hugging me as tightly as she could.
A few minutes later, I fucked up.
~~
"You know," I started, "you have a talent most grown-up women will
never have. And, when YOU'RE the one who gets to say yes or no,
you really love to show it."
Kailyn smiled uncertainly. "I only wish," I continued, "that your
father could understand that."
In an instant, tears were flooding her eyes, and she let go,
sobbing uncontrollably into my shoulder. I held her tightly, my
arms jerking with her sobs, until finally she got it all out. "I'm
sorry," I repeated, I don't know how many times. When finally
Kailyn looked at me again, her eyes and puffy, she said, "How
did you know?"
"You always act like you want to hide from him, and your little
pussy always hurts, doesn't it?"
She nodded.
"Kailyn, sweetie, YOU have the power, not him," I said. "Men who
abuse little get arrested and go to prison because they
people."
The nine-year-old's tears welled up again as she interrupted me.
"I don't want my daddy to go away," she wailed. "I know," I tried
to soothe her as best I could, "but you don't want him to
you, either, right? Sometimes we have to make a choice.
"Kailyn, listen to me: The choice is yours, not his. Remember
that."
~~
It was weird watching Kailyn on the videotape at my trial last
year. 15, and beautiful, she was not cooperating with the unseen
interviewers at first, until someone lied to her. "We don't want
to put him in prison," said the female voice, "we just want to get
him the help he needs. Don't think Hal is better than your
just because he didn't force you. He took advantage of the fact
that you were so much, and used you for his own pleasure."
(Well, okay, that's not entirely untrue. At least I admit it...)
"Help us," continued the disembodied voice, "help him. Please?"
Kailyn then opened up, relating much the same you've just
read, until she interrupted herself. "Wait, that's what you people
said about my father, too!" She then started to deny everything,
and the tape went black.
When my attorney finally tracked her down, she was living at a
home for teens, in therapy and drug diversion. "Tell him 'I'm
sorry'," was all she said.
It's a good thing I'm in here, I suppose; if I ever find the
person who raped her emotionally, I'll... well, I guess my
sentence would be about the same, huh? Then again, some of you no
doubt will argue that the "rapist" stares back at me from the
mirror.
You know what? I'm not completely sure you'd be wrong.
Oh-- before I forget, if you're wondering about her father, he's
already back on the outside. As far as I know, he's never seen her
again. Good thing...
~~
Girl Number Three:
Alicia was Kailyn's best friend. We almost never saw the two of
them together, because they tended to ignore Lori when they WERE
together. Alone, however, each came to our house at least twice a
week, sometimes more.
Alicia came to me for a different reason from the rest: she'd
walked in on her and stepfather one day. They let her ask a
few questions and touch a few body parts, but turned her away each
time she wanted to know more.
She, simply put, was not going to take no for an answer.
I awoke one morning to see Lori and Alicia on their knees on the
bed, each on either side of me. (Lori had let a friend inside
again; a habit I never did break.) The sheet covered me from about
the navel down.
To my horror, I noticed that the had ice cubes! Seriously, I
have no clue where they got that idea...
No, I didn't stop them. In fact, I pretended to remain asleep
through their little game. It probably will come as no surprise
that I got a raging hard-on in the process.
Alicia noticed, and started rubbing her ice cube more toward my
lower belly. Faking discomfort from the cold (not much of an
act!), I moved my legs enough to grab some of the sheet between my
toes. Slowly, so as not to blow my cover (heh heh, pun intended),
I pulled the sheet downward until I could just see the shaft of my
penis under the receding tent. Again, Alicia noticed, and it was
only moments before her head was lying on my belly to get a view
of my erect cock.
Needless to say, her ice cube found its way slightly southward. I
moved a little more, again feigning discomfort, and the sheet fell
over, exposing the whole of my meat to the early morning air. With
nothing obstructing her view, Alicia lifted her head, and applied
ice to my upper thighs.
Pretending to be asleep never has been more difficult!
"Lori, I need more ice," I heard Alicia say, and my
obediently went to get more. Once Lori had left the room, her
eight-year-old friend lost her inhibitions and took my cock into
her hand. It pulsed, and she jumped, startled. Satisfied that I
was still "asleep", she resumed her inspection of my package,
moving it around and looking at it from all angles until Lori
returned.
Guessing that Alicia wouldn't touch it again with my
present -- and, having had enough of the ice -- I pretended to
begin waking up. Quickly, the sheet was pulled back over me, and
the left the room, closing the door.
~~
Over the next several weeks, it became obvious that Alicia was
nowhere near as bold as Kailyn. A few times, I tried my favorite
icebreaker, sitting where possible to allow my penis to poke from
my shorts. Alicia glanced at it quickly a few times, then turned
away as if embarrassed.
A few more early mornings were different: the would gently
tickle me (I'd told Lori that ice cubes were a no-no) as I lay in
bed, pretending to be asleep. Each time, my increasingly erect
penis would somehow show itself, and Alicia would study it as
closely as she thought she could get away with while Lori was in
the room. When my left, however, her friend would
fondle me again, as if thrilling in her forbidden game.
Once, Lori decided to go outside to see if Kailyn was home (she
could call out from across the street, but we didn't let her go
over alone just yet). With my gone, and me seemingly
still asleep, Alicia actually kissed my throbbing cock; first the
head, then the underside almost to my balls, and back to the head,
all very tentatively. I figured it was time to take my chance.
"Alicia?" I said, softly. She jumped backwards, almost falling off
the edge of the bed. "That feels really good, honey, but we'd both
get in trouble if anyone found out you're doing this."
(I put a little extra emphasis on the word "you're". I didn't want
her to know just yet that I'D be the one getting in the most
trouble.)
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to know what it felt like."
"Did you ever feel one before?" I asked. "Yeah," she responded,
sheepishly, "But he only let me touch it once. He said he'd tell
me more when I get older."
"And... you don't want to wait, huh?"
"Nuh uh."
I tried to look thoughtful for a few moments before speaking up.
"Tell you what," I started. "If you promise to keep it a secret
between you and me" -- I was getting good at this -- "I'll let you
ask questions and try things when you want to."
She smiled.
"But, listen," I finished, "if I think you're trying to go too far
or do too much, you will trust me. I'm not going to let you
yourself, got it?"
"How would I myself?"
"I suppose you saw someone doing 'sex things' and you wanted to
learn, right?" I guessed. "Yeah huh." "Did you see his penis, like
this one," I said, pointing to my own, "go inside anything?"
"Yeah," she brightened a little, "it went inside my mama."
Mentally, I patted myself on the back; I'd guessed right again.
"Show me where," I said. Alicia pointed to her crotch. "Show it to
me," I prompted.
A bit embarrassed, she hiked up her little skirt, showing me her
panty-clad pussy. "Get your finger all wet with your mouth," I
suggested, and she complied. "Now, move your underwear out of the
way, and try to put your finger in where his penis went."
Alicia pulled her to one side and slid her finger inside
her little about half an inch, and she jumped; whether in
surprise or pain, I wasn't sure.
"That's how you could yourself," I explained. "Most
your age... well, your little is too small to put anything
inside. If you want, though," I continued, baiting the hook, "I
can show you other things grownups like to do."
Again, her face brightened. At that moment, Lori came back inside,
announcing that Kailyn was nowhere to be found. Alicia pulled down
her skirt, and I adjusted the sheet over my near-painful hard-on,
our lesson over for now.
Except, Lori wasn't quite ready to let the issue die just yet.
"Your penis is hard again, Daddy, isn't it?" she asked, a
mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Yes," I said in a pretend-
scolding manner, "and you're not supposed to be looking at it, are
you?"
Lori giggled; Alicia looked a bit nervous.
I sighed, a bit too obviously. "Well," I began, and let the word
linger in the air for a few seconds. "I guess I won't tell anybody
if you won't."
"Okay," came two little voices, and our secret was cemented.
~~
True to my word, I let Alicia proceed at her own pace. In fact,
she didn't broach the subject again for almost two months until,
one day, she happened to mention something she saw her stepfather
doing.
"Isn't that gross?" she asked, when I explained what his tongue
was doing between her mother's legs. "Not if you keep yourself
clean," I started. "In fact, some women prefer that to having a
penis inside of them."
"Nuh uh," she challenged. "Yeah huh," I kidded back. "You want me
to prove it?"
"How?"
"Are you clean?" I asked. "Yeah," came an uncertain response. I
dropped the bomb. "May I try it?"
Alicia's eyes got so wide, I thought they would bug out. She
looked slowly from my face toward her little and back,
glancing off to one side a couple of times as if looking for
reassurance from some unseen person.
It was her turn to make a deal. "Um, okay," Alicia answered, "but
if I don't like it, you stop, okay?"
I led her to the couch and she lay down, hiking up her skirt. I
reached to pull off her panties, and she stopped me. "No, I want
them on."
"But," I started, and thought better of it. I didn't want to say I
couldn't do it that way, and give Alicia an excuse to change her
mind. Instead, I pulled her cotton crotch gently to one side and
began by kissing the slightly fatty area around her prepubescent
slit.
"That tickles," she protested. "A good tickle, or a bad tickle?" I
prompted. Alicia giggled. "A good one, I guess."
I grinned, and went back to planting gentle kisses all over her
soft vulva. She had an unusually long slit for an eight-year-old -
- based on my modest experience -- and I figured her little
would stretch, with enough patience.
That was not my goal now, however, and back to kissing I went.
Slowly, my tongue got in on the act; tracing a very gentle line up
her crack, I stopped at her little clit, only now beginning
to extend slightly from her folds. With soft strokes, I flicked my
tongue back and forth on her growing button, and Alicia jumped,
squealing.
"Wow, what was that?"
"That's your little pleasure spot," I explained. "It's why many
women like their partners to kiss their -- uh, privates."
To that point, I had no idea what words Alicia had learned about
her body parts, so I figured I'd better be careful.
"Sometimes," I finished, "a woman doesn't feel that spot being
tickled just right with only a penis inside her."
"Oh," she responded, and fell silent for a few moments. "Do that
again!"
I grinned.
My tongue found its way back to Alicia's slit, and I used the hand
that wasn't holding her aside to open her little love
channel a bit. Tasting the pulp of her fruit for the first
time, I reveled once again in the youthful sweetness of a preteen
girl.
Perhaps more addictive than any narcotic, it was at this moment
that I knew I was irreversibly attracted to girls.
Alternating between long, slow licks along her inner lips
and quick flicks at her clitoris, I felt Alicia begin to tremble,
and the muscles in her legs began to twitch. My little lover was
close, and I let her have it: An all-out assault on her little
button. A tiny gurgle escaped her lips as her hands found the back
of my head and pushed hard, instinctively trying to increase the
friction pushing her to the brink. Her pelvis jerked upward
suddenly, trapping my upper lip between her mons and my teeth,
drawing blood. Through a slight haze of pain, I continued my
tongue-lashing of her engorged clit, bringing her to the very
height of her newfound pleasure.
It seemed like minutes passed before she finally collapsed. "Ow,"
she said, "that hurts." I showed her my swelling lip. "I'm sorry,
you caught me by surprise, and my teeth kind of got in the way," I
offered. "I'll try to be ready next time."
"Your lip's bleeding." "It's okay," I soothed, "don't worry about
it. So," I continued, "what do you think? Do you know why your
likes that now?"
"Yeah, that was kinda weird, but it really felt good, except for
your teeth," Alicia smiled. "Do like that, too?"
Do they ever, I thought. "Well, you saw your do it, right?
Isn't that why you kissed mine before?"
"Yeah."
"What did you see your do?" I prodded yet again. "Well,"
Alicia hesitated; she seemed almost embarrassed again. "She put it
in her mouth. I thought it looked kinda yucky."
"Did you think it was yucky when you kissed mine?" She giggled, "I
guess not."
"You want to try it a little?" "Um, okay."
I leaned back into the couch, pulling my shorts to one side. Not
that I needed to; my pulsing meat already was exposed to the
world. "First, kiss it all over like you did before."
Alicia repeated her exploration from a couple of months ago,
kissing first the head, then the shaft, and back up to the head.
"Use your tongue up and down the whole length," I offered. Alicia
hesitated a moment, then slathered her tongue up the base of the
shaft up to the head. "Like that?"
"Mm, that's great," I said, trying to be supportive. "Try to flick
your tongue up and down when you do it."
She tried, but it didn't feel any different.
"Flick it-- wait, let me see your finger a sec." Alicia offered me
her finger and, using my tongue, I demonstrated the technique that
would drive me nuts.
"Oh, okay," she said as the light went on, and she tried again
with her own tongue on the sensitive underside of my turgid meat.
I felt a shiver climb my spine; she got it.
"Ohhhhhh, yeah, perfect."
Alicia continued flicking her tongue all over my cock and even
down to my balls, again eliciting shudders from somewhere within
my being. I was hoping she was ready for the next step.
"Put it in your mouth," I commanded, gently. Her questioning look
brought a nod from me, and she allowed the head past her lips.
"Take it in as far as you're comfortable with, and keep using that
terrific tongue," I coaxed, smiling. Before long, Alicia was
taking about half of my modest length, using her hands along the
rest, no doubt mimicking her mother.
Just then, Lori's ended, she bounded out of her bedroom to
the sight of another friend giving daddy head. "Hey, that's what
Kai--" she started until I motioned for her to stop. Alicia
stopped, embarrassed yet again, and I told her that Lori had seen
it before, too, and it was okay.
Alicia shook her head, and sat back on the couch. Apparently, she
was not one for an audience. I kissed the top of her head,
whispered, "That's alright, we'll do it your way," and headed for
the bathroom.
~~
It was like being with two different people; when Lori was in the
room, Alicia would all but ignore me, but she'd open up like a
flower when we were alone.
Unfortunately, her own little flower refused to open.
Desperate one day to try what she'd seen her and stepfather
doing, Alicia asked me to put my penis inside her. Trying not to
laugh, I suggested we see if my finger would fit in first.
It wouldn't; no matter how slowly I moved or how much I tried to
distract her, she couldn't relax enough to allow even my little
finger in past the first knuckle. Alicia was crushed, but I had an
idea.
"Some women like to try it in a that stretches better," I
offered, and pushed her legs up higher over her head on the couch.
Bathing my finger in spit, I played gently with her rectum for
several seconds, letting her get over the initial shock, until I
felt her sphincter relax. Slowly, my finger slid in until it was
buried to the hilt.
"How does that feel?" I asked.
"I d'know," came the response.
Clearly, she wasn't in any pain, so I began a methodical pumping
of my finger, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Alicia's
face was flushed, and her breathing quickened. Leaning in to wet a
second finger -- quite the challenge, I might add -- I continued
the slow stretching of her anus.
Once the third finger had entered the fray, I knew she was ready.
Instead of leaving her and retrieving some KY -- and perhaps
allowing her sphincter time to close -- I used plenty of saliva on
the length of my cock, hoping that would be enough at least to get
things started. Gradually, I slid out my fingers and replaced them
with the head of my pounding meat.
As I'd hoped, I entered her with no difficulty, sliding back and
forth, penetrating a bit more with each stroke. Alicia's eyes were
closed, but gently, and her mouth formed a little "o" as if the
new sensation was agreeable, if not stimulating.
Rather than ruin the moment, I kept quiet, and slid my cock almost
all the way back out, and in again. As if by instinct, her hand
found its way to her little and began a gentle massage. All
six-and-a-half inches of my modest meat slid from her rectum and
back, much to Alicia's silent delight, until the saliva wore off,
and the movement began to a bit.
"I've got an idea," I said to my little lover, and picked her up
by her back. "Hold on," I suggested, as I walked to the bathroom
with the eight-year-old still impaled upon my cock, her arms
around my neck.
Retrieving the KY (bought one day when I tried unsuccessfully to
convince my to try anal sex) from the medicine cabinet, I
started toward the couch and, thinking better of it, turned to my
bedroom. My was at work, and Lori was deeply engrossed in
another video.
Carefully squeezing the slick jelly onto the exposed length of my
penis, I worked slowly again, allowing the lubricant to make its
way up inside Alicia's intestines a bit at a time. Placing the
eight-year-old's feet on my shoulders, I started a gentle rhythm,
thrusting evenly in and out of her asshole. Alicia began humming,
literally, and her hand was back at her in no time.
Within seconds, she was making a noise that was neither a scream
nor a hum, and her body began shaking almost violently. That sent
me over the edge, too, exploding inside her rectum with a force
I'd never known. I kept pumping even after emptying my prostate,
it seemed; finally collapsing in a heap onto my elbows, hoping to
keep the bulk of my weight off my little lover.
"Wow! What was that?" Alicia asked. "That, honey," I panted, "is
called an orgasm. That's why adults do this."
"Oh, fuck," she said, undoubtedly repeating her mother. "Let's do
that again."
"No way," I said in mock protest, "I'm too pooped!"
"Not right now, silly!"
~~
To this day, I wonder who got Alicia's cherry, if anyone; she's
too horny to say "no", but too shy to say "yes".
We were able to ass-fuck several more times until my had to
move, since I'd found a better job 500 miles away. Amazingly,
Alicia stayed true to form; she was at her most emotional when
saying goodbye to Lori. My and I got no more than cursory
hugs.
~~
Girl Number Four:
Brady didn't really come to me in the classic sense. She showed
all the signs of wanting to get close, but it took months to get
her to open up.
Nine years when she and Lori first became friends, Brady was
something of an enigma, alternating between self-consciousness
about her body and a willingness to run around the house
completely nude, with my right behind.
Brady probably weighed nearly half again what my did.
Happily plump, not really fat, she was still conscious of her
weight, but gradually became more at ease with me when I didn't
seem to mind her nakedness.
The would often shower together, and one night I got an
idea. Walking into the bathroom and announcing rather loudly that
I had to use the and that they were not to peek, I had the
desired effect on Lori. Pulling the shower curtain aside, my
daughter playfully wolf-whistled at the sight of my pecker. Brady
looked, too, and I made something of a show of turning slightly
toward them under the guise of reaching for the curtain to pull it
back.
Lori and Brady soon began a taunt of their own, coming from the
shower into the adjoining master bedroom (where I often sat at my
computer, working mostly when I felt like it) and wiggling their
bare little butts at me. Threatening to bite them, I often made
good on that promise -- gently, of course. That meant I got hands
full (and, usually, a mouthful) of naked little-girl flesh, and
they didn't seem to mind one bit.
It didn't take long before my role in the during-the-shower game
escalated into pretending I was going to on them for peeking.
Squealing in mock fright, the would almost knock each other
over trying to move away from wherever I was pointing. Of course,
I made a point of trying to be half erect the whole time.
Brady tried to use that against me one afternoon during a tickle
game when, beaten, she announced that she'd tell her that I
was showing off my penis. Almost without skipping a beat, I
countered with, "Fine, you do that... and I'll tell her you're
always sticking your naked butt into my face."
"Okay, never mind."
For a second, I was honestly a bit scared. Now, I knew I had her.
~~
Speaking of games, the also liked some of the games on my
computer, and I'd intentionally start playing something they were
interested in each time their shower neared its end. That way, of
course, they'd want to butt in, literally, each sitting on one of
my knees to play. Of course, I'd massage their naked backs, and I
slowly worked my way around Brady's front side.
I got a little more bold each time, and she mostly let me
continue, silently moving my hand if she felt I was going too far.
Brady had some seemingly unspoken rules about how I could caress
her, and I quickly learned those rules, allowing her to her feel
in control. My thumb could gently tickle her growing as
long as my hand remained on her belly. My fingertips could gently
caress her hairless sex as long as my thumb stayed well above her
waist.
Lori either didn't mind my rubbing Brady, or didn't notice. My
wife usually was downstairs watching television as I worked on the
computer.
Which meant, if Brady didn't mind, I was in the clear.
The now-ten-year-old also didn't seem to mind when I got aroused,
my penis often poking from my shorts and rubbing against her leg.
She'd glance downward to see what was touching her, and then
mostly ignore it.
That changed one morning.
Brady, like many children, often pretended she was a or some
other animal, and was constantly walking up to my or me and
licking an arm, or something. Naturally, she listened only for a
moment when we told her not to do that. At the same time, Lori
picked up the habit, and received the same admonishments.
So, of course, an idea hit me: One night during a sleepover, each
girl licked me in turn as I said my goodnights. Feigning
irritation -- and knowing full well that my was on the early
shift the next morning -- I said, "One of these mornings, I'm
going to wake up and the two of you will be licking me."
As I crawled into bed a few moments later, I said to myself, Okay,
Lori, don't let me down.
~~
My breath came exploding from me as Lori jumped on me to awaken me
from a pretend slumber, Brady well behind her in the doorway.
I knew Lori got the hint; the twinkle in her eye the night before
told me so. Perhaps it got lost in something else the were
planning but, in any event, that was not the wake-up call I
expected.
Not on that day, anyway.
~~
For the next several weeks, I saw Brady mostly in passing, and
mostly as she played with Lori on our new Nintendo 64. Most of
those weekends, at a time when we might allow our ten-year-old
neighbor to stay the night, she was visiting her on the
other side of the county. Brady spent virtually every afternoon
with us, though, as she quickly tired of the I'm-in-charge-here
attitude of her twelve-year-old brother.
The classic latchkey kids, the two were alone until their
arrived home, usually a few minutes after I did. The had
no problem whatsoever with letting his come "bug" us for a
while.
Brady did sleep over with Lori once during this time, but my
was off -- and at home -- the next day.
When finally a sleepover matched my wife's schedule (for me,
anyway), I made sure to lick each girl's cheek as I said
goodnight. "Yuck," came Brady's response. "Yeah, what'cha gonna do
about it?" I asked in my best little-boy-brat voice.
Lori whispered something in Brady's ear. "You'll see," Brady said,
snickering.
I hope, I thought.
I was not disappointed this time, but I did get the surprise of my
life. Well, actually, several.
Early the next morning, the were on my bed, both completely
naked. They indeed were licking me all over, although entirely
from the belly up, and I gradually moved my leg to a position
where I could grab the sheet with my toes. Lori beat me to it,
however, and pulled the covers all the way to my feet.
The snickered upon seeing my cock, fully erect from the
stimulation by two little tongues. When, moments later, I felt the
first tongue make contact with my modest prick, it was Lori's!
If Academy Awards were handed out for acting in real life, my
continued "sleep" would have aced one. I've never pulled off
anything that difficult.
Through my earplugs (I know it's hard to believe by reading this,
but I love my -- we just didn't show it very often, and she
just happens to snore louder than creation), I heard Lori say,
"C'mon, Brady, you gotta do it, too." Brady giggled, trying to be
quiet, and leaned in to join Lori with a tentative tongue.
Guys, if you've never had two mouths working on your meat at
the same time, you have no idea what you're missing.
Brady gasped as Lori let the head of my prick slide between her
lips and into her mouth. So did I; but, fortunately, both
missed it. "How can you do that?" the ten-year-old asked my eight-
year-old daughter. "I've seen -- you know, I've seen people do it
before."
"Wow," Brady continued, awed. "Doesn't that taste yucky?"
Matter-of-factly, Lori answered, "Nah, it just tastes like skin.
Try it."
For a change, my was taking the lead, and she clearly
enjoyed it. Brady, a doubtful look on her face, bent over and slid
her lips past the head of my penis, then let it pop back out.
Regarding what she'd done for a moment, the evidently
didn't find it too disgusting, and went back to work.
Unfortunately, having never on a man's penis before, she
wasn't particularly careful with her teeth, and I jumped
involuntarily, the ruse permanently over.
Neither moved. Frozen in fright with an oh-man-I'm-in-deep-
shit look, Lori and Brady both waited for me to scream at them, or
something.
With a mischievous grin, I maneuvered myself onto my knees, and
said, "Oh, you're gonna get it now!" Grabbing at Brady, I began an
unmerciful tickling of virtually her entire naked body,
buds and included.
(Like she was in any position to complain.)
Writhing underneath me, squealing the whole time, Brady somehow
managed to get her legs up around my waist, opening her little
treasure just an inch from the head of my pounding penis. I arched
my back slightly to force contact, and she jerked upward, impaling
her surprisingly wet little upon the head of my cock.
I stopped, stunned. Brady gasped slightly.
Lori spoke first. "Dad, your penis is inside her," she announced
as if no one else knew it. "Um," I started, searching for my
voice, "Brady, are you alright?"
"Yeah."
"Have you, uh, had anything up inside you before?" "Yeah." "What?"
I continued.
"My makes me do it," she said. "He says told me I have
to do everything he says, and he'll tell her I'm a little whore if
I don't let him."
"Where did he learn how to talk like that?" I asked. "I d'know."
I didn't want this to seem like an interrogation, so I asked if
she wanted me to take it out. Surprising me yet again, she said
no.
Instead, I pushed slowly in, backing out a bit and sliding in a
bit further. "Wow, Dad, you're doing it," Lori nearly shouted.
"Yes, and if you don't want us all getting in a bunch of trouble,
you'll keep it down a bit, okay?"
"Okay," Lori said, and lay down to watch.
Brady's little was soaking wet, but incredibly tight;
obviously, her was much smaller than I am (makes sense,
after all). Yet, the sheer heat of her pleasure kept the juices
flowing, her passion fruit leaking onto the bed.
I'd never known up to that point that a so could be so
turned on!
Putting an arm around her back, I lifted her up and fell slowly
backwards, letting the straddle me from on top. Pulling
Brady's ample cheeks apart, I told Lori she could get a great view
from between my legs.
My was getting a lesson in sex-ed that I'd never quite
intended, and Lori was eating it all up.
Brady's head was on my chest, meantime, and her hands were behind
my shoulders, gently hugging me. This was no "he's making me do
it" posture; this was a gesture of love, if not lovemaking. As wet
and wanton as her was, the rest of her body seemed content
to bask in the moment.
So, I let her.
With my hands gently grasping her round buttocks, I moved her up
and down the entire length of my shaft with even strokes,
establishing a slow rhythm. Her continued to lubricate
accordingly, and the vise-like grip her muscles maintained about
my erection never became uncomfortable; quite the contrary, in
fact.
Lori tried something she once saw Kailyn doing, reaching between
my legs to tickle my ball-sac. I jumped slightly, and Brady
squeezed me tighter. Squeezing her cheeks a little harder, I began
to increase our tempo until, eventually, the sounds of our bodies
slapping together filled the room. Brady came first, squealing
almost like a Guinea and digging her little fingernails
painfully into my shoulders.
That's probably what kept me from coming at the same time.
As Brady came down from a wicked orgasm -- it turned out to be her
first ever -- her body changed positions slightly, forcing me from
inside her little channel just as I began to squirt. As I reached
to jack myself the rest of the way, Lori beat me to it, surprising
me yet again. Her little hand pumped up and down, then I felt her
mouth engulf the head.
She came off with a pop, and a cough. "What is that stuff,
anyway?" she asked.
"'That stuff'," I answered, "makes babies when you're enough.
Remember?"
"Oh, yeah," she answered. "So why do people eat it?"
"'Cause they like to, I guess. Some people hate the taste,
though."
"Let me try," Brady said, suddenly reanimated from a seeming
slumber on my chest. Sliding off of me, Brady licked some of the
hot from Lori's fingers and, as contemplative as a ten-year-
old can be, announced, "Ah, that's not too bad."
We all laughed.
~~
Later, I told Brady that her would probably go to a home
for troubled youth if anyone found out he was forcing her into
sex. "Tell him you'll call the police, and get out of the house.
Come over here if you have to. He will stop, I'm sure, so you
probably don't have to tell anyone."
"Ya think so?"
"I'm pretty sure. You probably shouldn't have told me about it,
either," I continued. "But, you asked me," she countered. "I know,
but what if someone else asks you, too? Will you tell them about
me?"
"No, you didn't force me."
Not quite satisfied, I played my ace anyway: "I won't tell either,
okay? You know, they'd put me in prison until after you're all
grown up, and then they'll find out about your brother, and he'll
go to a home, and they might even put you in a foster home because
your will still have to go to work. I don't think that's fair,
do you?"
To her credit, Brady looked more angry than upset. "No," she
reasoned.
"Good," I said. "Maybe, if you want to play again someday, we
will, but I'll never force you to do anything, okay?"
"Okay."
"And, I'll never tell," I finished, sealing the deal.
~~
Talk about timing. Later that same day, Brady's came over to
tell us that she and her -- Brady's aunt -- had pooled
their money to buy a large house in a rural area about 10 miles
away. They would spend the next couple of months fixing it up, and
the women and their respective kids would move in. That meant Lori
wouldn't get to see her best friend very often, and she was very
sad.
The spent as much time together as they could in the
interim, and they did join me in bed once more, Lori mostly
watching, as if she understood she could do no more than that just
yet.
I taught Brady a few of the guidelines for giving good head, such
as avoiding her teeth, and using her tongue. She caught on fairly
quickly, and soon was accepting about half of my average dick into
her hot little mouth. "Wow, she's really wet, Dad," Lori announced
from the foot of the bed, and I told Brady not to move as I slid
out from underneath her.
From behind, I pulled my 10-year-old lover to her knees, pointed
my spit-slicked penis toward her hole, and slipped it home. Tight
as she was, I'm still amazed that I slid in with no hesitation.
Perhaps my average penis is a blessing, I thought at the time.
Little did I know that it would also prove to be my undoing.
Leaning back onto my hands, I told Brady to set her own pace, as
fast or as slow as she wanted. She began slowly, but it didn't
take long before she was moving back and forth almost violently,
as if trying to shove my cock deeper inside her. I should have
been slamming hard into her cervix, I thought, but neither of us
was in any obvious pain.
I wanted to shatter little Brady's world, and to show Lori a
little trick, too. Pointing my daughter's attention below the
junction of her and her best friend, I wet a finger and
began to tickle the swollen clit of the girl. "This'll make
her have a big orgasm," I explained to my fascinated daughter,
just as her friend's body stiffened and lurched back hard,
stopping its momentum. A slight "Ungh" escaped Brady's lips. Using
my other hand, I pushed her slightly forward and went back to
slamming her little pussy, and Brady screamed into the pillow as
her body resumed a back-and-forth motion for several more seconds.
Brady was coming so hard, she couldn't take it any more. "Stop!"
she screamed. I let go, and she collapsed onto the bed just as my
orgasm was beginning. "Lori," I said, thinking quickly, "make me
squirt on her back!"
My grabbed my jerking meat and slid her hand along its
length. My spurted almost to the wall, leaving a trail up
Brady's backside and into her hair. By the time I was done with my
own powerful orgasm, most of my baby-juice had collected in the
small of her back.
"Fuck!" Brady whispered. Lori giggled. "Don't say that naughty
word, Brady."
"Fuck," the repeated, more emphatically. "Oh, God,
fuck, wow!"
"Are you okay?" I asked, genuinely concerned.
"Oh, fuck," Brady repeated yet again. She rolled onto her side,
curling almost into a fetal position for a moment, then flopped
back, her arms and legs going limp. A weak smile was all she could
manage.
"I think she'll live," I announced, smiling.
Lori looked at her hand, then licked a gob of my from her
knuckles. "That's not so bad, I suppose," she said.
I gave Lori a big bear hug.
~~
Girl Number Five:
A new had moved in to our apartment complex a few months
before Brady, along with her and brother, left for their
new home. Diana looked almost Oriental, despite her family's
Hispanic name, and she looked like a frail little flower.
Oh, can looks be deceiving!
10 years old, Diana was very slim, like Lori. Her
had just begun to grow, and not much beyond the areolas. Her
little-girl hips were only beginning to hint at her womanly
future.
Diana's face was olive, but otherwise reminiscent of a porcelain
doll. A real beauty if ever I'd seen one.
Save one, she'd also turn out to be my favorite lover, but for
unexpectedly different reasons -- and not until almost a year
later.
~~
Diana was quite shy at first; barely making a when she'd join
Brady and Lori at whatever game they were playing. Despite being
the and taller of the three, Diana seemed content to let
someone else lead.
Usually, that was Brady, until she decided Lori had complained
enough.
Sometimes, I'd join the at the Nintendo or one of the many
board games they enjoyed, especially one with a Pokemon theme. As
was my usual poison, I constantly tried to sit across from Diana
with my penis poking from my shorts. Her attention always seemed
to be elsewhere, though, and it took a couple of months for her
even to notice.
When finally she did, her expression was different from anything
I'd ever seen: fascination, mixed with unadulterated fear. Diana
seemed almost to cringe at the sight but, at the same time, she
couldn't take her eyes from it.
It's hard to put into words what her face was saying... it's as if
she was beckoning to my cock with all her being, all the while
preparing to jump up and run away if it came too close.
Before very long, whenever Diana came over, she'd look at my
crotch first, and often. That never failed to arouse me, and
within seconds she'd be staring straight at a throbbing adult
erection. The look in her eyes was always the same; simultaneously
saying she desperately wanted it, and desperately wanted it to go
away.
~~
This went on probably for about six months. Diana didn't make any
move to approach me, and something unspoken told me not to
approach her.
One day, however, when it was time for Diana to go back home from
her visit, Lori gave her a hug -- something my loves but,
for whatever reason, had never attempted with Diana. Her now 11-
year-old friend (Lori was a couple of months shy of 10) didn't
respond at first, but slowly raised her arms to return the
embrace. Seeing my chance, I asked Diana if she'd like a hug from
me.
Tentatively, the approached and put her arms around my
waist. As my hands gently caressed her back, Diana held me
tightly, as if afraid to let go.
Shocked as I was, I had no idea what was still coming.
~~
Diana came over one day when Lori and her were out
shopping, and I was working on the computer, as usual. From the
upstairs window, I told her that the were out, and she asked
if she could use our bathroom. "Just a moment," I said, and put on
some pants.
(Alone with Diana in the house, however briefly, I didn't feel
like leaving myself open for any potential accusations.)
I let her in, and walked toward the living room to give her an
unobstructed path between the bathroom and the front door.
Just then, I heard the deadbolt click. That's odd, I thought. As I
turned, I saw Diana walking toward me instead of the bathroom.
Without hesitation, she grabbed my hand, and used some martial
arts maneuver to lay me out onto the floor!
The tiny quickly sat on my chest and looked into my eyes with
nothing less than an animalistic ferocity. "If you move, I'll
scream," Diana said, almost without emotion.
Oh, my God, what the hell's going on here, I asked myself.
Stunned, I could only watch as she peeled off her tank top,
revealing the beginnings of her breasts, and pulled up her skirt,
showing her bare, almost hairless sex.
She, like Brady before her, was dripping wet; literally leaving a
pool of her little-girl juices in the recess of my neck!
Sliding down my legs, Diana fumbled with my belt and undid my
pants, sliding the zipper down almost impatiently. My still-
flaccid penis seemed almost to irritate her, and she began
noisily, trying to bring it to life.
She succeeded, still taking it to the root after my cock became
fully engorged, despite the haste with which she seemed to be
working. Her technique hardly was the soft, loving fellatio I'd
come to prefer. Undoubtedly, however, Diana was in no mood to
care.
Sliding back up, the wanton on top of me positioned
herself over my now raging prick and slammed it home without so
much as an ounce of preparation. She moaned, more from her gut
than from her throat, and began riding me with a passion I'd never
known before from a her age. I reached up to caress her tiny
breastlets, and she fairly growled, "Don't touch me!"
Okay, whatever you say...
Instead, Diana's hands rested on my upper chest, sliding within
minutes to my upper shoulders, her thumbs almost digging into my
throat. I seriously wondered if I shouldn't be afraid of this
little girl!
"Come, damn you," she screamed, as if her voice was speaking
someone else's words. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna
COME," she repeated.
Diana's eyes seemed to glaze over just before her face pointed up
toward the living-room ceiling, and she screamed, "God, yes!!" My
orgasm slammed into me then, sending us both careening into the
stars now emblazoned across our retinas.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggh," I heard from somewhere in the cosmos.
I have no idea whose voice it was.
When finally I'd regained my senses, Diana had just finished
pulling on her and smoothing her skirt. Without looking
back, she turned the deadbolt, opened the door, and simply walked
out into the afternoon sun.
I lay there for the longest time, staring at the door,
disbelieving.
What the fuck just happened?
~~
Something of an explanation arrived a couple of weeks later. Diana
had visited Lori a couple of times since our little tryst -- for
lack of a better word -- and, interestingly, had betrayed no sign
of the nearly demonic little ball of pure passion I'd seen that
one afternoon.
Her came to collect her one day, and she began discussing
the subject of her with my wife. In honest
curiosity, my other half beat me to the question: Why is Diana so
quiet? "She usually doesn't talk to adults until we tell her it's
okay," came the response. "She was viciously molested by her uncle
a couple of years ago."
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," said my wife. "Her uncle did it?"
"My brother," the woman said, hanging her head. "He's in prison
now. He told her," pointing to her daughter, "that if she ever
said anything, he'd kill me and her father, and her, too. So,
Diana let it go on for months without saying anything, until we
caught him.
"That was two years ago, and she's still slow to open up with
anyone, even other children. Your daughter's the first person
she's really had any fun with in a long time."
I'm not EVEN going there, I said to myself. Out loud, I offered,
"Well, Lori likes playing with her, too, so she's welcome any
time."
(I meant that for my daughter's sake, foremost. Lori and Brady
often fought like sisters; she and Diana always seemed to enjoy
each other's company, since the was content to follow
whatever my suggested.)
"Yeah, she needs the company," my echoed, "and it sounds like
Diana really needs a friend right now."
I'm not entirely sure WHAT she needs, I thought.
~~
The next time Diana came over, the were gone again, and I
said so from the upstairs window. "Okay," came her answer, and she
trudged off slowly.
I never heard the door open, or close. I never heard her sneak up
the stairs. I have no idea to this moment what she clocked me
with.
When I awoke, I was sprawled out on my bed. I'm not exactly a
lightweight; that must've taken some effort, even if the bed is
only about fifteen feet from my desk. The first thing I noticed,
other than a roaring headache, was a roaring hard-on being
engulfed by an eleven-year-old girl-with-a-vengeance. She heard me
moaning in a combination of pain and pleasure, and let my penis
pop noisily from her mouth.
Straddling my body, she moved up until her hips were almost
parallel with my face, and then took hold of my hair, hard.
Shoving my face into her almost hairless snatch, she commanded me
to eat her.
Saying no was not an option.
As much as I hate her uncle for what he did to this poor girl, I
was thankful at that moment that he'd not been any worse. It was
painfully obvious -- literally -- that I was to be her outlet; her
way of proving to herself that she was in control of her own life,
in whatever form that took. I had two options, it seemed: to stop
letting her in the house when I'm alone (and to remember to lock
the fucking door!), or try somehow to re-channel this behavior
into something more constructive.
After all, it appeared as if I was the only person who could...
Diana came in my mouth, and she quickly mounted my screaming
erection again, riding it much like she had the last time. Again,
I respected what I assumed was her continuing wish that I not
touch her. Again, her hands were nearly around my throat, and I
had to adjust my neck and flex its muscles to be able to breathe.
Again, we rode the throes of orgasm; only this time, I had to
fight to keep consciousness as her grip tightened, and as the bump
on the back of my head reminded me of its presence in no uncertain
terms.
Diana, meantime, let out a scream that seemed to come from her
gut, in an eerily deeper voice than should have been possible.
If I didn't know any better, I'd have sworn at that moment that
she was possessed. That assumes I know better.
The 11-year-old suddenly returned, collapsing upon me in a
heap, whimpering almost like a puppy, until she'd caught her
breath only a few minutes later. Within moments afterwards, she
was standing up, getting dressed, and walking downstairs to let
herself out.
It took me fifteen minutes before I COULD stand up, my only
incentive being the aspirin bottle in the medicine cabinet.
~~
The Jekyll-and-Hyde effect was stunning, as the delicate flower
returned a number of times in the ensuing weeks to play with Lori.
Still quiet, still all too willing to let my be the
leader, Diana seemed to be the same unassuming little I'd met
several months earlier. I made a conscious decision to play with
the as much as I could, hoping Diana would see that I was
interested in her as a person. If I avoided her, I guessed, I
might further validate her view of her uncle and, perhaps, all
save her father.
Of course, I was assuming again.
~~
The next time I saw Diana alone, school was back in session, and
my was staying afterwards for band practice -- she'd
taken a sudden liking to the flute. My was at work, and
virtually my entire workload was done from the computer at home
now.
This is it, I thought.
Diana asked to use the bathroom. I let her in, and she shut the
door, flipping the deadbolt behind her. Walking up the stairs, I
stopped just inside my bedroom door. Within seconds, Diana had
followed me inside.
God, I hope this works.
As the little approached, I held my hand up in a gesture to
stop. Amazingly, she did. To her confused look, I smiled in
response, and said, "This time, we do it my way."
For a moment, anger seemed to flare in her eyes, but I held my
hand up again. Finding the corner of the bed, I sat down, and
motioned her toward me. Diana approached tentatively, and stood
between my spread knees. Slowly, I reached for her soft shoulders,
and pulled her gently toward me. Reaching behind her, I gave Diana
a soft, but firm, hug. Slowly, she returned the favor.
After several minutes, I pushed her gently away until her face was
about six inches from mine. "My way," I repeated, and drew her
slowly toward my parted lips.
Diana acted like she'd never kissed anyone before; come to think
of it, that shouldn't have surprised me. Kissing would hardly have
been in her repertoire up to that moment.
"Just do what I do," I prompted, and she began to respond. Gently
brushing my lips across hers, I let my tongue join the party
slowly, but surely. Again, she responded, and soon our kiss was
passionate, if lacking the urgency she'd displayed before.
I let my hands wander under her from behind, gently rubbing
the soft skin of her back. Slowly, I coaxed the material upward,
reminding Diana's body with gentle strokes that there would be no
force here. Her arms gently moved from around my neck to above her
head, letting her clothing come off without any complaint.
Her arms found their way to my shoulders again, and my hands
returned to her back, illustrating that I was in no hurry. Moving
from her lips to her neck, my kisses continued a loving path
southward, but stopped as I realized I could go no lower than her
collarbone at that angle. Gently, I turned her toward the bed and
lay her on her back, resuming my gentle kisses before she could
miss them. Diana squealed in surprise as I surrounded her growing
breastlet with my mouth, and I looked up into her eyes.
I saw shock; pleasant shock! She actually smiled in surprise, and
her hands found the back of my head, gently.
I bathed her tiny bud lovingly with my mouth and tongue, and moved
all too soon, it seemed, to the other. Diana's moans were worldly,
but different this time, like something you might hear from a
young girl.
Diana's body responded as I kept my hands busy, gently massaging
everything not busied by my tongue. When my fingers gently stroked
her sex, her legs stayed open, but writhed back and forth as if
unsure of what to do. My lips nibbled at her navel, and her
hands were back behind my head, gently urging me downward.
Looking back, that was her turning point; no longer commanding me
to do her bidding, she was ready to let me go at my own pace, with
only a little help.
Just a little.
Accepting the hint, I traced a gentle line from her belly button
to her little clit, which I tickled with the tip of my tongue.
"Mmmmmmm," she sighed.
I savored the faint taste of her juices. Used though this poor
girl was, she still was sweet, with a gentle scent of... I don't
know how to describe it, really, almost like eucalyptus. My tongue
affected gentle circles around first her outer lips, then the
inner labia, stopping occasionally to tickle her little button.
Diana's hands, instead of pulling on my hair, now were gripping
the sheets, pulling in sheer ecstasy.
Her legs began a familiar twitch, and Diana whimpered in
disappointment when I stopped. Climbing quickly between her legs,
I looked her deeply in the eyes and said, "Trust me."
My cock actually tingled as it entered her, and I kissed Diana
gently. My pace quickened, bringing her to the edge of orgasm
again, and I slowed down, letting her bask in the feeling. Again,
I rode her hard, and slowed again as her peak was near. Diana
looked up at me, half in frustration, half in joy, and I brought
her just to the edge once more.
She knew I was controlling her body, and she wanted it.
Rolling quickly over, I let her straddle me. Taking her face
gently between my hands, I said, softly, "Making love is the
joining of TWO people; two minds, two bodies -- each willing to
lead the other, each willing to give in to the other.
"Only now can the two become one."
(Corny, huh?)
I slammed home my penis as I drove home the point, driving us both
over the top. Orgasm slammed into us together, turning her
understanding smile into a of sheer pleasure. We hugged
each other tightly as the waves overcame us, sending our first
true coupling into mutual orbit.
~~
As I returned to Earth, I noticed that the little on top of
me was crying uncontrollably. I brushed the back of her head with
my hand, and she raised her head to look at me, red, puffy eyes
and all. "Welcome back, Diana. You'll be fine now. Everything's
going to be just fine."
She smiled, and cried some more. I smiled, and joined her.
~~
Diana and I made love on three more occasions after that, each time
pushing our limits only a little. Our swan song featured my cock
deep in her ass, and a dildo I'd bought for my years earlier
deep in mine.
In short, we were learning to trust each other.
~~
Her said I'd performed a miracle. "How did you do it?"
I couldn't exactly answer that question with the whole truth so,
instead, I said, "I guess I was able to convince her that there
are only a handful of people in the world like her uncle, and the
rest of us are pretty much okay. Including her."
Martina gave me a bear hug, tears rolling down her face. "How can
I ever thank you? You gave me my back!"
How can you thank me? I repeated, as a wry grin screwed itself
into my features. Just don't ask me for the gory details...
~~
Watching Diana on the videotape last year was just plain weird.
Then 12 and, impossibly, even more beautiful, she was playing the
shy flower again, barely lifting her chin from her chest.
The only other thing I really remember about that "interview" was
one exchange that must've taken all of 30 seconds. "What did Hal
do to you?" came a disembodied female voice.
"He didn't do anything to me."
"He didn't do anything to you." It was more a statement than a
question.
"He didn't do anything to me," Diana repeated.
"I see. Did you do anything?"
"I fucked him."
"I'm sorry?"
"I fucked HIM."
The off-screen voice was incredulous. "You fucked him?!"
Diana's face broke into a wide grin.
"He had no choice."
~~
Girl Number Six:
"Dad?"
"Yes, hon?"
"Why don't you ever fuck me?"
Stunned, I yanked my face from the newspaper. "Uh, Lori, we don't
use that language," I said, evading the question.
"You didn't answer me. Why haven't you f-- um, made love to me?
I've seen you with my friends, and they love it so much. What's
wrong with me?"
I knew I'd hear that someday. "Well," I started, trying to find
the right words, "you're my daughter. You trust me, and you have
to be ABLE to trust me. I really believe I'd be violating your
trust if I tried to take advantage of it."
"But why not me? My friends trust you, too."
"I know, but..." I hesitated. "They all... they pretty much
learned about sex the wrong way and, I guess, they wanted
something better. I didn't-- well, that's not true, I wanted them
to make me feel good, too, and I didn't think it was right for me
to feel that way about you."
By now, Lori was 11 and the most beautiful on the planet. Of
course, that's her talking, but I mean every word of it. An
early bloomer in certain aspects of her development -- her hips
began a womanly curve at the age of eight -- she's finally getting
breasts, only now as developed as, say, Kailyn was at nine. (Takes
after her mother, I guess; but, then again, I never liked more
than a mouthful anyway.)
Without a doubt, I had a little stunner.
I backed away from the table and let her crawl into my lap.
"Maybe," I finished, "I was just waiting for you to say it was
what YOU wanted."
As serious and as sensual as an eleven-year-old can be, Lori
looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I want you to make love
to me."
~~
I will never forget the look in Lori's eyes as I set her gently
from my arms onto the bed: It was the same look her gave me
14 years ago at our wedding. A sharp pang of guilt hit me at that
moment.
It was not an easy thing to ignore.
Kissing my was something I'd done thousands of times, but
I hesitated. The question was not whether Lori was ready for this;
rather, was I ready? As if reading my mind, Lori brushed my face
with her hand and said, "It's okay, Dad. Really. Please?"
The wall now broken, I smiled, and leaned in to kiss my own
offspring in a way most fathers never get to enjoy. Soft lips made
slight contact, caressing mine in prelude to the sheer passion
still ahead. I kissed first her upper lip, then the lower one,
swimming in the contact. Lori let me take the lead, responding in
like fashion to every touch, every brush, every squeeze of two
lips. My tongue soon begged in, applying a gentle coat of
moisture, and she simply lay back and sighed.
Pressing my lips again against my daughter's, I felt her tongue
greet mine in a soft, loving interplay, like a dance improvised as
it went. Lori's mouth was hot, and her passion grew as my hand
swept softly across her cheek to her neck, to her shoulder, to the
buttons of her blouse. She'd not worn her sports bra today, thank
goodness, and I could feel the heat of bare skin under my hand as
the last button gave way to my nimble fingers.
Instinctively, her head sank deeper into the pillow as I kissed
Lori's neck, nibbling slightly at each earlobe before tracing a
line down the center of her chest. Her opened blouse still covered
her tiny breasts, and I brushed away the material on one side with
gentle kisses, my lips finally landing on an already-hard nipple.
Lori gasped out loud as my tongue introduced itself, flicking and
rolling its way around the little nub before I took it full into
my mouth and sucked, gently.
"Oh, Dad, yeah," came her voice like a slight breeze.
Her other nipple reacted much the same way, but Lori herself was
much more turned on. Eight fingers curled up in my hair,
pulling painfully as I explored her tit with my mouth. It
had been a while since I'd felt a tugging quite like that.
For a moment, I wondered if my head would survive what I had
planned next.
Working the drawstring on her shorts as I kissed her ribs and
tummy, I was able to slip off her last bits of clothing just as I
arrived at her hairless treasure. Lori jumped involuntarily as my
lips made contact with her bare vulva, and especially when they
found her clit. My tongue began much lower, at the still-
tiny vaginal opening at the base of her slit. Tasting her preteen
juices for the first time, I marveled at the faint sweetness.
Ah, yes, "forbidden fruit," I reminded myself.
Slowly, so slowly, I worked Lori toward a peak she'd never
climbed, while trying to keep her from going over the edge. I
didn't want her muscles so contracted from orgasm that she
couldn't go all the way.
"Da-a-a-a-a-ad!" she protested when I stopped.
"I know, baby, but I can't make love to you if you're tense, you
have to be relaxed," I soothed, and her head found the pillow
again. Wetting a finger with my saliva, I pushed it gently into
her love canal, only to find her hymen a few seconds later.
"Ow."
"Sorry," I responded. "Hon, we can do this two ways: Either I can
take your virginity with my finger and slowly your little
pussy, or I can just try to push past it with my penis.
"That'll hurt," I finished. "Maybe a lot."
"I don't care, I want you inside me." Always the trooper...
Climbing up to my knees, I positioned the tip of my cock to her
opening and pushed gently, only to feel no give whatsoever. "Stay
here," I said, as I arose to find the lubricant. Seconds later, I
was trying again, and the head quickly popped inside to Lori's
obvious discomfort.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but I heard no complaints.
Pushing slightly farther in, I heard Lori whimper. "I can't do it,
Dad, take it out!"
My was clearly frustrated. "Why could my friends do it
when they were younger than me, but I can't?" she asked. Not all
of them could, actually, but that was irrelevant.
"Because," I helped, "they already had done it by the time they
came to me. Sometimes they even worse the first time than you
do now."
"Can you try it with your fingers?" I smiled. "Sure, baby."
I lay back down and rested my head on her leg. Rubbing lubricant
onto my fingers, I gently slid one inside Lori's hole. It came to
rest at her maidenhead, and I heard my grunt just a bit.
Probing gently, I searched for a tear or imperfection in the
membrane, hoping for something to exploit for Lori's sake.
Presently, I found it, and tried to worm my fingertip through.
"G'ow, Dad, that hurrrrts," Lori complained. "I know," I soothed,
"I'm trying to be as gentle as I can."
"I know," she said, somewhat returning the favor.
The tear in her hymen finally gave way, and I heard a slight
"Oof," but my finger was inside, and Lori didn't seem too
distressed. Slowly, I worked my finger in and out until soft moans
came from my daughter, and I pumped a bit more rapidly. Pulling
almost all the way out, I put a second finger to her entrance and
pushed gently. Giving my eleven-year-old only about an inch at a
time, I worked in and out a bit until both fingers were buried.
It must have taken half an hour, but Lori was ready, and I told
her so. "Oh, God, do it," she breathed.
I had to choke down my laughter, lest she be insulted. How are
you?
On my knees again, I guided my again-throbbing penis back to her
vaginal opening and slipped the head inside with no difficulty.
Pouring on a little extra KY, I kept a slow but steady pace of
entering her a fraction of an inch, then pulling out slightly,
then pushing in a bit more. Lori and I stared into each other's
souls through our eyes the entire time, and she never showed any
pain again.
Indeed, when I hit bottom, her face virtually exploded with joy.
We kissed, hard, swapping tongues as her juices mingled with
the lubricant, making her just-initiated sex even more slippery.
Like in heat, we picked up the pace, obscene slapping
sounds filling the room.
I tried to warn Lori that I was about to come, but I couldn't find
my voice. Instead, I moved my hands to her face, each caressing a
soft cheek, and I kissed first her forehead, then her nose, and
finally a gentle peck on the lips.
My back arched upward even as her fingernails won their tug-of-war
with its muscles. Lori's hips matched mine thrust for
thrust, as if made for each other. My and I exploded
together in a fireball of sensations, their tendrils dancing
inside my eyelids, shooting stars that refused to die until the
Grand Finale had its way.
Somehow, I managed to fall to one side as I collapsed, so I
wouldn't smother Lori under my dead weight. How much time passed
'til we woke up, I have no idea.
I love you, Lori.
~~
Yes, Lori's friends were toys; I'll admit it, even if I truly did
care for them. Until now, the last I'd known true lovemaking --
seemingly years ago -- was with Lori's mother.
Just like that, I knew it again; this time, with the forbidden
fruit of her labor.
It was, ironically, the last time I was able to touch my daughter.
As if written in the script of my life, I was arrested the
following morning.
~~
The End:
Lori, bless her heart, refused to testify. She knew her
would be going to prison if a jury found him guilty, and she was
going to have no part of it.
Today, all of my appeals are exhausted -- which took several
months -- so, it's prison life for me, for a minimum of 29 more
years. If I live that long.
My only salvation would be if certain "Three Strikes" provisions
were overturned in a Federal court.
Meantime, I'm adjusting; child molesters are kept separate from
the general prison population, but most of the here are
predators. Nasty types, too; some have murdered your kids. There
are a few like me, though: Child lovers who find our
cellmates reprehensible. We have our own little clique; otherwise,
I pretty much keep to myself.
I have no choice...
So, dear parent, what do you think? Am I where I belong? Should
people like me rot here for the rest of our days while your kids
instead learn the most efficient ways to kill each other? Or, to
kill you?
Basically, there are two types of parents: Those who think I'm the
scum of the Earth and should die behind bars; and those who wish
they had someone like me to teach their child what it's like to
love someone, so they'd grow up to have healthy relationships with
the significant others in their lives -- instead of becoming the
next divorce statistic or victim of domestic violence or, perhaps,
the cause.
Two types of parents: Those who are there for their children, and
those who are not.
Which parent are you?
Like? Dislike? TELL ME!
admcartwright@hotmail.com
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