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Subject: {ASSM} <*> NEW Admiral Cartwright: 'A Letter from your Worst Nightmare' (Mg, preteen, inc, cons, politics) [1/1]
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This is the final sex story by Admiral Cartwright. As I first
announced about 10 months ago, the will to create erotic fiction has
left me. Indeed, it took an idea inspired by someone else's story to
finally give me the cement with which to hold this last effort
together. I hope you like it.

I probably will visit the forums and chat from time to time, but the
author is fading into the sunset. Thanks to all of you for letting me

- Admiral Cartwright

"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

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 mature 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

Author's Note: This is it, the last story 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. 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 whole 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 was able to
create 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

"I see. And, just what the hell is 'civilization', anyway?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"Consider the man 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.

I was right.


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 man with no prior criminal record, all in a single

How, you ask?

Six young girls 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 girls and, afterwards --
at my instruction -- he presented an unusual and unpopular defense:
That each girl 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

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 young 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 old 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 girl fellating an adult male,
sometimes deeply; often, fresh semen could be seen shooting onto
girls' bodies, onto faces, into open mouths. One girl 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 old 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 daughter was five
years old, but she preferred to hang out with older girls in the
neighborhood. That was both good and bad for Lori: a very intelligent
little lady, most girls her own age could not engage her in
stimulating conversation, but most older girls often acted, especially
in groups, like Lori wasn't even there. That hurt her, and me as her

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 family 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 girl was born deformed; a problem with the development of her
right side 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 girls when they were
playing, and I took a chance one morning. Leaving my bedroom to find
that my daughter 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
daughter 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 girl 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 wife 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 daughter 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 toilet 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

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


I saw Brittany again on Wednesday, as I arrived home from work
mid-afternoon. My wife already had gone to bed (thanks goodness for
the heavy drapes in the bedroom) and the older girl 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
wife 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 breasts 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 pussy 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 wife 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 daughter 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

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 daughter 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 wife 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 wife 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 pussy
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 hole 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 young girl 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 girl 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 father 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 TV 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 young 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 shirt 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 TV 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 young 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

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 young 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
young 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 young 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 pussy 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 young ass, and I kneaded her cheeks

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 daughter 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

"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 girl 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, sucking 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

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 sucking 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 wife 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 father would let her.


Kailyn came over one afternoon when my wife and our daughter were
seeing the pediatrician for a routine appointment. Her timing was
perfect; since we had only one car at the time, my family 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 blowjob 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

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

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

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 red 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 girls get arrested and go to prison because they hurt 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 hurt 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 father just
because he didn't force you. He took advantage of the fact that you
were hurt 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 story 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 mother 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

To my horror, I noticed that the girls 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 daughter
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 daughter present
-- and, having had enough of the ice -- I pretended to begin waking
up. Quickly, the sheet was pulled back over me, and the girls 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

A few more early mornings were different: the girls 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
daughter left, however, her older 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 daughter 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 hurt
yourself, got it?"

"How would I hurt 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

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 panties to one side and slid her finger inside her
little hole about half an inch, and she jumped; whether in surprise or
pain, I wasn't sure.

"That's how you could hurt yourself," I explained. "Most girls your
age... well, your little hole 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

"Nuh uh," she challenged. "Yeah huh," I kidded back. "You want me to
prove it?"


"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 pussy 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

"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 hole 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
young 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

I grinned.

My tongue found its way back to Alicia's slit, and I used the hand
that wasn't holding her panties aside to open her little love channel
a bit. Tasting the pulp of her young 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 young girls.

Alternating between long, slow licks along her inner pussy 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 mom likes
that now?"

"Yeah, that was kinda weird, but it really felt good, except for your
teeth," Alicia smiled. "Do boys like that, too?"

Do they ever, I thought. "Well, you saw your mom do it, right? Isn't
that why you kissed mine before?"


"What did you see your mom 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 movie 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 mother 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 hole 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

"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 pussy 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 hurt 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 wife to try anal sex) from the medicine cabinet, I started
toward the couch and, thinking better of it, turned to my bedroom. My
wife 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 pussy 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

"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 family 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 wife 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 old 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 daughter right behind.

Brady probably weighed nearly half again what my daughter 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

The girls 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 toilet 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 pee on them for peeking.
Squealing in mock fright, the girls 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 mother 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 girls 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 breast 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

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

That changed one morning.

Brady, like many children, often pretended she was a cat or some other
animal, and was constantly walking up to my wife 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 wife 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 girls 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 father 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 mother
arrived home, usually a few minutes after I did. The older boy had no
problem whatsoever with letting his sister come "bug" us for a while.

Brady did sleep over with Lori once during this time, but my wife 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,

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 girls 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 girls 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 wife -- 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 young 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 girls 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

For a change, my daughter 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 older girl evidently didn't find it too
disgusting, and went back to work.

Unfortunately, having never sucked on a man's penis before, she wasn't
particularly careful with her teeth, and I jumped involuntarily, the
ruse permanently over.

Neither girl 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

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, breast buds
and pussy 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 pussy 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?"


"Have you, uh, had anything up inside you before?" "Yeah." "What?" I

"My brother makes me do it," she said. "He says mom 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 pussy was soaking wet, but incredibly tight; obviously,
her brother 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 girl so young could be so
turned on!

Putting an arm around her back, I lifted her up and fell slowly
backwards, letting the young girl 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 daughter 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 pussy 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 young pussy 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 pig
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 old enough.

"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 jizz 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 brother 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 mom
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?"


"And, I'll never tell," I finished, sealing the deal.


Talk about timing. Later that same day, Brady's mom came over to tell
us that she and her sister -- 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 girls 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
father and her best friend, I wet a finger and began to tickle the
swollen clit of the older 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 daughter grabbed my jerking meat and slid her hand along its
length. My cum 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,

"Fuck," the older girl repeated, more emphatically. "Oh, God, fuck,

"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 cum from her
knuckles. "That's not so bad, I suppose," she said.

I gave Lori a big bear hug.


Girl Number Five:

A new family had moved in a few months before Brady, along with her
mother 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 young breasts 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 peep when she'd join
Brady and Lori at whatever game they were playing. Despite being the
older 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 girls 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

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 daughter 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 older girl 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 mother were out shopping,
and I was working on the computer, as usual. From the upstairs window,
I told her that the girls 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 girl 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 sucking 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 young girl 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 girl 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

"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

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 shirt 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 mother came to collect her one day, and she began discussing the
subject of her young daughter 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

"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 older girl was content to follow whatever my
daughter suggested.)

"Yeah, she needs the company," my wife 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 girls 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

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 girl 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 daughter be the leader,
Diana seemed to be the same unassuming little girl I'd met several
months earlier. I made a conscious decision to play with the girls 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 men save her father.

Of course, I was assuming again.


The next time I saw Diana alone, school was back in session, and my
daughter was staying afterwards for band practice -- she'd taken a
sudden liking to the flute. My wife 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

God, I hope this works, I thought.

As the little girl 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 shirt 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 young 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

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 picture 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 girl 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 three more times 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 wife years earlier deep in mine.

In short, we were learning to trust each other.


Her mother 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 daughter 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

"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:


"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

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

By now, Lori was 11 and the most beautiful girl on the planet. Of
course, that's her father 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

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 mother 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 daughter 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 young fingers curled up in my hair, pulling
painfully as I explored her young 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

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 young
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.


"Sorry," I responded. "Hon, we can do this two ways: Either I can take
your virginity with my finger and slowly stretch 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

Tears welled up in her young eyes, but I heard no complaints.

Pushing slightly farther in, I heard Lori whimper. "I can't do it,
Dad, take it out!"

My daughter 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 hurt 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 daughter 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 old are

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 young juices mingled with the
lubricant, making her just-initiated sex even more slippery. Like
animals 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 the muscles in my back. Lori's hips matched mine thrust for
thrust, as if made for each other. My daughter 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


The End:

Lori, bless her heart, refused to testify. She knew her father 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 guys here are predators.
Nasty types, too; some have murdered your kids. There are a few guys
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

Two types of parents: Those who are there for their children, and
those who are not.

Which parent are you?

Like? Dislike? TELL ME!

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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