("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Daddy's Secret Diary
by The Tall Man (tallman034@aol.com)

***

A widowed father's entries into his secret diary, about 
his love for his daughter. (M/F-teen, inc)

***

My diary is 'Secret' because here I relate, in total 
candour, random events of my life as a widowed father, 
and details of my very special relationship with you, 
Alika, my only daughter.

'Secret' means that no-one else must know, and no-one 
else will read the contents of this extremely intimate 
journal. Society would never understand. But you, my 
darling Alika will surely stumble upon it one day after 
I'm gone. You're the only one I want to know what has 
been in my heart and in my mind and in my body since 
your mother, my wife Carol, was wrenched away from us 
in that awful accident, which even now is almost 
unbearable to recall. So you will know just how much 
you have meant to me since then, and how I have come to 
love you as I loved her. Perhaps a little more. You are 
the only one who will understand.

01 October 2006

Dearest Alika, I start to write this journal just 
fifteen years after her death. She was the only woman I 
ever loved, until our own close relationship took on a 
new dimension almost two years ago. Of course I loved 
you from the day of your birth, as a baby, as a child. 
But now I love you as a woman.

Our love is certain. I say I love you Babygirl and you 
say I love you too, Daddy. But there are things that we 
don't say to each other – even in the most intimate of 
moments we have enjoyed so many times now, there are 
feelings we don't express, fears about this taboo love 
we share but don't dare enunciate and can't share with 
those around us. If we can't talk about it, then it's 
important to me that you know things from my side. Even 
if you will only begin properly to understand much 
later, when I am no longer part of your life.

You were so young when your mother left us. It was gut-
wrenching to hear you ask for her ceaselessly in the 
beginning. You needed her as much as I did, perhaps 
more; a baby girl needs her mother. I made every effort 
to distract you from her disappearance. Eventually, you 
stopped asking where she was, and later, as you became 
old enough to grasp the concept of death, you finally, 
finally were able to comprehend. 

We were both destined to live without her elegant 
presence, her odours, her touch, her pure beauty, her 
wisdom, her smile, her gentleness. Her love. 

I was destined to survive without having her warm, soft 
body next to mine at night, her complicity, her 
understanding, her sexuality, her great passion.

I tried to be a good father to you. I made sure you 
were looked after when I was working, because I had to 
work to pay the bills, Babygirl – you understood didn't 
you? And I was always there to share quality time with 
you when I was not working. It was unthinkable that I 
should consider the idea of another woman sharing our 
lives – though more than once, in your child-like way, 
you asked me to find you another mummy. And our 
vacations together were very special; that's when we 
were closest.

And now, you are an adult. And I live in Heaven and 
Hell at the same time. For no-one in the 'normal' world 
outside could ever begin to understand my intense, 
forbidden, deep love for you, nor any of what has 
happened in recent times. You are so much like your 
mother, Alika. For me, you have become your mother, my 
wife. Your long slender body, your green eyes, your 
soft blond hair, your pale skin and flawless 
complexion. Your sparkling personality, your outrageous 
vivacity and all those qualities she had, are now 
evident in you. 

When I look at you, I see her. When I touch you I touch 
her. When I make love with you, I am with her and 
inside her and you both at the same time. And I love 
you as much as I loved her – and in the same ways. You 
have finally and totally fused with the greatest love 
of my life, and become the same object of my enormous 
passion.

I know I have to avoid suffocating you. I have to give 
you your breathing space, never interfere when you 
leave the house, though my solitude then is almost 
unbearable. I know you see young men, and surely have 
sex with them. But I stay detached as far as I can from 
the half-imagined terror of your young vibrant body 
being invaded by another, to try not to let that 
terrible green-eyed monster of jealousy rise up to 
engulf me. What I want can never be achieved, I know 
that. My Paradise is also my Eternal Fire. I live with 
it every day.

03 October 2006

You were out all night again, Alika. I missed you so 
much. Fathers fret, you know, be their kids young or 
grown up. I worried and worried incessantly, but 
restrained my urge to start telephoning all over to 
find out where you were. 

Then I heard you arrive home, silently climb the stairs 
and enter your bedroom around seven. I heard your 
toilet flush, imagined you sitting there, legs akimbo, 
peeing, wiping your sweet pussy with quilted paper, 
then standing naked before the bathroom mirror to brush 
your long hair, your pretty tummy pressed against the 
wash basin, your bum cheeks firm and round and 
loveable. Just like I used to watch you and admire you 
before, before things changed. Maybe you just fell into 
bed, hair deranged, makeup still on, worn out but 
beautiful. I could sleep now that you were safely home

How I wanted you to come to me, slide willingly, naked 
into my warm bed and press your cool, smooth body 
against me like you have done before, feel your full, 
firm breasts and pointy nipples against my back, your 
foot, thigh and pussy rubbing suggestively over my leg. 
And telling me that you loved me again and again. In 
desperate anticipation, my penis was hard as ever, 
lying there, waiting and ready for you if you wanted 
it. I'm sure you guessed that I would be there, waiting 
on tenterhooks, in case you felt the need to join me. 
It would have been enough to just have you there with 
me, and during the night, to caress you, to calm my 
anxiety, to know that you were all right and that you 
wanted to be with me. But I know the rules. We agreed 
them.

I slept a little, but not enough. Before leaving for 
business this morning, I dared to look into your room, 
without disturbing you. I stayed by the entrance to 
your forbidden zone, not braving to approach your bed, 
nor touch you. Only your head was visible above the 
sheet, and you slept like an angel, like you were ten 
years old again, breathing shallowly. Looking at your 
face, I loved you in my mind and heart and body, I 
loved you to bursting.

07 October 2006

We had dinner together today, for the first time in a 
week. It was so good to have you back with me, even for 
a short time. You were sloppily dressed for staying in, 
no makeup. Jeans and an old sweater of mine. You like 
to wear my sweaters, and that is a joy to me; 
afterwards, when you take it off I can hold it, I can 
smell your perfume, your soap, your skin odour, and 
it's as though I'm inside you once again, part of your 
body, though I have a dreaded fear that a fully 
satisfying coupling between us may not happen again. 
You will decide.

When you're away from me I can handle and smell your 
clothing too, your delicate underwear. It's my way of 
being with you even if you're absent.

And yes, dear Alika, I masturbate into your slips, your 
bras, your night T-shirt. Whatever you choose to give 
me each morning, always knowing, understanding and 
accepting my needs, without questioning. You know not 
to give me a slip with someone else's semen stains. 
Lonely masturbation is not what I want for the best, 
but I can imagine you're here with me. Covering my face 
with your slip, I smell your odours, urine, sex juices. 
Erection in hand, I extract all the odorous pleasure 
that I can before wrapping the chosen gift of clothing 
around my swollen penis and rubbing it, rigid and 
bursting with desire, tingling with lust and passion, 
hopeless with love for you my Babygirl. I always 
ejaculate powerfully, my semen dedicated to you and I 
call your name out loud. I wait and I wait for the next 
time you will be ready for me. I ask nothing else but 
your love, and that you tell me sometimes that you love 
me too. I am patient because I worship you.

During dinner, I smiled and watched you as we talked, 
about everything in the world - other than those 
desperately worrying matters I wanted to broach but 
daren't. You chatted animatedly and energetically about 
your work, your art, your friends. I listened, hoping 
you would ask me about my day too. I just listened and 
adored you. My evening lit up, just having you across 
the table.

My penis was at full attention, invisible under the 
table, as my eyes took in your wonderful unfettered 
breasts which jutted against the thin wool of my 
sweater, the pointy young-woman's nipples outlined 
clearly to my gaze. I looked into your pale makeup-less 
face, those lively green eyes: I watched your fine lips 
move as you spoke, and your smile made my heart melt as 
always. I was happy again, despite knowing that this 
pleasure was but for a short evening, and that tomorrow 
you'd be missing again for a time – you'd go back into 
your other teenage/adult world, from which I was 
excluded. I know the rules.

After dinner, with a light, but lingering kiss to my 
cheek and a hand on my shoulder, you were gone, to your 
bedroom. I waited and I wanted. Your room is forbidden 
territory by mutual consent. If you were to come to me, 
if anything intimate was to happen between us, then it 
would be on my ground, in my bedroom, or in the lounge, 
anywhere but in your inner sanctum, your secret garden 
as you call it.

I went up to my own lonely bedroom. I heard your music. 
What you play tells me what kind of mood you are in. I 
listened, and I knew you wouldn't be slipping into my 
bed tonight. Your soft body was out of bounds this 
time.

You made a phone call, which went on for a long time; I 
tried not to listen to what you were saying. I heard 
the clickclick of your computer keyboard. I heard a 
faint buzzing. I cried silently: "Come to me , 
Babygirl, I can make you feel better than a vibrating 
plastic tube". I didn't hear your orgasm, you must have 
celebrated it silently. Later, I heard light-footed 
movement, the sound of you brushing your teeth, water 
running, you were peeing, toilet flushing. Then 
nothing.

Later, I masturbated alone in my room as usual, looking 
at your photo, the nude one we took in the Paris hotel 
room last year, and clutching one of your slips to my 
turgid member. The pressure in my testicles had been 
building all evening, and as ever, it didn't take me 
long to get to the highest level of excitement, to fill 
your slip with the seminal juices I really wanted to 
feel squirting into your lovely body. The intense 
orgasm was a welcome release. All evening I had wanted 
this climax to be shared with you my darling Alika, but 
once again I am condemned to wait. Until you are ready 
to receive my worship of your body.

10 October 2006 

I came home late last evening, after my gym session, 
crept in by the unlocked kitchen door. I didn't know 
whether I'd see you; you had not told me of your plans 
for the evening.

I don't think you heard me, and when I entered the 
lounge, I saw you. You had recently showered, you were 
half lying, half sitting on the couch, on a large bath 
sheet, a cushion behind your towell-dried hair, eyes 
closed, as though sleeping. I couldn't be sure, you 
were breathing shallowly. The television blinked 
blankly, as though a DVD had come to the end. You were 
wearing your very flimsy white bedroom robe, silky, 
sexy and almost transparent, the very expensive one I 
bought you on our lovers' weekend in Paris last year. I 
knew you were waiting for me, Babygirl.

I could see the outline of your bra-less breasts and 
the slight folds of your body pressing against the 
material. Lower, I saw that the robe had fallen open to 
reveal that you wore no panty. One hand rested on your 
lower belly, fingers lightly touching your mound of 
venus - not rubbing, not moving, just resting there. 
One of your pale legs was crooked slightly, and to one 
side, which gave me a view of the short, soft blond 
hairs at your secret opening. Not shaved, but cropped 
very close, the way I like, the way I remembered it, 
the last time I was this close to your naked body. 

It had been too long Alika. You looked so desirable, 
and my penis began to twitch; I detected the rapid flow 
of blood into my organ, felt the head swelling, that 
pleasant sensation which preceeds the hardening. My 
heart picked up to a faster beat, and I felt warm. 

I took off my jogging top and went around the couch, 
torso naked, to your feet, to take in the length of 
your slender body. You looked so much like your mother; 
my heart leapt with love, with heartache and gut-
wrenching desire. I felt it bumping in my chest.

You didn't move at all, you just breathed slowly and 
soundlessly as I watched your breasts move under your 
robe. My eyes came back to your mons veneris, slightly 
covered by your motionless fingers. 

I knelt down, to position myself in the crook of your 
leg, and ran my flat hands lightly along both pale, 
exposed thighs, feeling smooth, soft and surprisingly 
cool flesh against my palms. I detected the odour of 
bath salts. I had to move your hand, to clear access to 
your sex. It looked very inviting, lips peeking out of 
the cropped pubic hairs, the softest of labia lips just 
visible. I eased your leg further open, lowered your 
foot to the floor; you stirred, but still your eyes 
stayed closed. My hands ran along the top of both of 
your thighs again, the pleasant feel of your flesh made 
my itchy penis lengthen and harden a little more, until 
it began to push strongly against the front of my slip 
and jogging pants, the friction against the tip 
increasing the pleasure and flow of blood.

I floated my hands over your tummy, back down to your 
sex, ran a thumb over the soft folds of those pussy 
lips, then my hands back onto your thighs, to stroke 
along the insides, to your knees and back up to the 
centre of all pleasures.

I needed to suckle your breasts. Ever so gently, I 
leaned up over your glorious body and eased your robe 
off your shoulders, pulling it aside to gain access to 
those fleshy wonders. Your nude full breasts fell into 
my hands, my penis twitched violently. I cupped the 
firm young woman's flesh for a while, appreciating the 
softness and the weight and the wonder of them. Then, 
taking care not to let my naked torso touch you, I bent 
my head to take a tiny pale nipple into my lips. I 
nibbled it with my closed lips first, then lightly with 
my teeth; it swelled in my mouth, became hard and 
rubbery, and I began to suck on it like a baby, 
touching it with the tip of my tongue. 

I enjoyed the feel and the taste of the nipple in my 
mouth, breathed in your soap and perfume for a while. 
My hardness throbbed urgently now, and I had to free it 
from the confines of my slip, to allow it to expand 
fully. I pulled down the waist of my jogger and lowered 
my slip, feeling the cool air on my full erection. As I 
switched to your other breast and sucked lightly on its 
nipple to make it hard, my cock brushed momentarily 
against your inner thigh, hot against cool, hard 
against soft, rough against silky, forcing another 
violent jerking to take place. I held my hardness 
against your flesh for a moment, feeling the joy rise 
in my body.

While I suckled, my finger touched again the slippery 
folds of your pussy, seeking the opening of those lips, 
but not penetrating, just caressing, lightly. Would I 
risk awakening you, if I went further?.

I looked up; your sweet eyelids were still closed, but 
did you have a half-smile on your lips? Now, my head 
descended from your nipple and I began to plant small 
delicate kisses all the way down to your navel. My 
tongue dipped into your belly button and then the 
kisses of adoration continued down along the insides of 
your thighs, then slowly back up, close enough to your 
mons to detect that delicious odour emanating from your 
woman sex. That exciting smell of almost-moistness. Up 
onto your stomach, more butterfly kisses, then down 
again to your upper thighs. As I moved my upper body 
forward and back, my turgid cock brushed against the 
silkiness of your thigh and calf, and now I allowed my 
naked upper arms too, to feel the same softness. I 
placed my hands on either side of your waist, brushing 
my palms against your wonderful woman's curves.

My mouth was now approaching the lips of your honeypot, 
to kiss, to smell, to taste. First a lick with the end 
of my tongue, then my mouth against those soft adorable 
lips, an open-mouthed kiss, sensing the delectable 
odour of your sex floating up into my nostrils. Then my 
tongue slipping through my own lips, to lick again 
those other, softer, feminine sex lips, to prise apart 
the labia folds and tiny pubic hairs and penetrate into 
your secret orifice.....ahhh the joy. 

My cock free and cool but raging hot and iron-hard, 
pressed against your calf again, I moved my lower body 
slowly back and forth, benefiting from the friction of 
my hardness against your softness. Pre-cum juices 
dribbled out of the enlarged hole in the end of my 
penis, smeared against your flesh, lubricating my leg-
fucking action. Meanwhile my tongue reached further 
into your sweet pussy, tasting your love juices. I felt 
the cropped hairs against my lips and the moistness 
inside your sex began to mix with my saliva, turning 
moistness into wetness. I drank, I tasted your nectar.

My tongue now deep inside, I closed my mouth entirely 
over your sex opening and kissed as though I would kiss 
your mouth, a full french kiss, deep and increasingly 
forceful. Then I withdrew my tongue and ran it over 
your clitoris above, pressing, stimulating, first 
lightly, then harder and more determined, pausing only 
to push my tongue once again into your cunny and taste 
anew your juices, now more and more plentiful. Then 
back to your now swollen clitoris. 

I looked up to your face, which was less calm now; your 
eyes were still closed, but your breathing more 
agitated, your mouth open. Your lower body began to 
move, too, rising slowly but certainly up against my 
mouth, allowing one of my hands to slip underneath, to 
squeeze and cup your bum cheeks, run a finger along the 
fold of those cheeks, and touch that other secret 
orifice, your sweet, unviolated anus.

I felt you would soon be close to orgasm; I know your 
body language so well, Babygirl. There began that 
almost imperceptible trembling in your lower body. As I 
pressed a finger against your tight little ass hole, 
with my free hand, I held one of your breasts and 
fingered the nipple which became rigid-hard again. I 
was at once touching your breast nipple, your secret 
bum orifice, and my mouth was lavishing adoration on 
your sweet cunny. All the while my furious erection was 
rubbing against your leg, getting wetter and wetter 
with pre-cum, longing for your caress, but having to 
settle for the pleasure of the friction against your 
calf flesh. I felt you return the pressure that I was 
applying; there began a slow side-to-side movement of 
your leg, slight but certain, pressing sideways against 
my burning, throbbing monster. With the same movement, 
my shoulders touched the inside of your thigh.

Your breathing became louder and quicker, a tiny moan 
was audible. You became warm, then hot. Your lower body 
lifted up higher, you gasped, trembled. Your hips moved 
up and down rapidly, pressing your bum cheeks against 
my hand underneath with each downward thrust, my finger 
pressed against the entrance to your anus. Perspiration 
was beginning to collect in the cleft of your ass. My 
mouth clung to your pussy, my tongue pressing on your 
clitoris as I felt you pass the point of no return, and 
as the quaking became uncontrollable, I plunged my 
tongue hard and deep inside your vagina again, kissing 
your whole sex as I would kiss your mouth....a full, 
deep french kiss, as though seeking another tongue. 
Full of passion, full of love for you, my Babygirl. 

My upper teeth bit your clit ever so gently, nibbling. 
You began a high pitched moan, mouth wide, face 
slightly contorted, teeth bared with passion. Your 
hands gripped the back of my head, caressed my neck, 
slipped down and gripped my bare shoulders, tighter and 
then tighter your fingers dug into my flesh as the 
waves of your orgasm flowed over you. I knew you were 
there.

You gasped, you moaned, you quivered, your hips jerked 
up and down several times within seconds, then the 
movements began to slow. And still your eyes stayed 
shut; who knows what images you had in your head as I 
ravaged your cunt and you felt these sharp convulsions 
of pleasure take over your body. 

Gradually, your hip jerks subsided and I decreased the 
pressure on your clit. I withdrew my hand away from 
underneath your hot, moist bum cheeks. Your hips 
lowered, your legs relaxed to the side, you gave a huge 
sigh and stretched your limbs – your arms above your 
head and your long legs alongside my waist. I pressed 
my tongue one more time against your clit and your 
lower body suddenly jerked violently, as though your 
orgasm still had a tiny way to go. You laughed, as 
though to admit that I had just taken you by surprise 
with that last tiny burst of pleasure.

Your eyes opened, you raised your head and looked at 
me, my upper body still between your thighs, my mouth 
blowing cool air over your sex and belly. Your eyes, 
meeting mine, were moist, and I could detect intense 
emotion. You smiled contentedly. You closed your soft, 
hot thighs against my arms and shoulders, as though 
enveloping my body to make me your prisoner. You 
breathed: "Thank you, Daddy, that was the best. I love 
you, you know that, don't you?"

I smiled back: "Yes, babygirl. I know. And I adore you. 
And you know that too".

We stayed there for a little while, saying nothing. I 
wanted to be between your thighs forever. I wanted to 
plunge my elongated, aching, rigid penis into your 
depths, feel the softness, the heat and wetness of your 
love juices as my cock thrust deeply into your sweet 
cunt. I wanted to kiss your mouth, taste your breath 
and your saliva. I wanted to take your tongue into my 
mouth and suck it hard. I wanted to plunge my tongue 
into your ear and breathe your name, tell you that I 
loved you. I wanted you to feel my lust, appreciate how 
powerful and indestructible I was right at that moment. 
I wanted to spew and spurt my semen into your womb, 
that forbidden orifice. I wanted to come and come and 
come, until you had accepted all of my forbidden seed 
into your womb. Like we had done before.

You knew my needs. You reached a long, pale, elegant 
arm behind the cushion supporting your head, pulled out 
an ivory coloured, silky panty. Handing it to me and 
smiling seductively, you breathed: "Do it for me 
Daddy". I was sure you had worn the panty today; I 
plunged my nose into it, to inhale the odours of my 
Babygirl's pussy juices and urine, breathed in your 
intimate sexual odours. "Do it for me, darling Daddy" 
you repeated, "Show me".

I spread and opened the panty and wrapped it around my 
turgid member, as you wanted me to, and began to fist-
fuck myself there in front of you, kneeling between 
your soft, hot, perspiring thighs and looking into your 
moist, smiling eyes. With my one hand, gripping hard, I 
rubbed and rubbed my itchy cock, never letting you 
leave my gaze for a single micro-second. With my other 
hand I stroked your belly, your breasts, your shoulders 
and your neck. You took my hand and placed two of my 
fingers in your mouth and sucked them gently, as you 
had once sucked my penis. Could you taste your own sex 
and anus? You stroked my naked, hairless chest with 
your fingers, lightly, lovingly. I began to breathe a 
little faster, and you looked down to watch my hand 
picking up pace as I rubbed my now fully swollen, angry 
dick harder and faster.

I let out a gasp, felt my ejaculation coming through my 
balls and along the length of my penis. I thrust my 
panty-wrapped cock against your crotch, the tip 
touching your darling cunny lips and enjoyed the 
feeling of a huge amount of semen spurting forcefully 
into the ivory coloured, silky material. As the 
ejaculation began, I took both of your magnificent 
breasts in my hands, squeezing gently, thumbs on your 
still-hard nipples. I jerked and jerked my lower body, 
pushed forward against your crotch. Almost, but not 
quite inside my Babygirl's cunt. I sobbed your name. 
You cried out mine. You crooked your legs a little and 
closed your thighs against my waist, pulling me in 
towards you. You took my arms and pulled my upper body 
down until my face was between your glorious breasts, 
my naked chest against your belly. 

As the intense throbbing in my cock and balls slowed 
down and the potent, delectable spurting of seminal 
juice stopped, the violent twitching of my lower body 
lessened, you held the back of my head against your 
breasts and whispered: "There....now you feel better, 
Daddy.......". You kissed my forehead, held your lips 
there.

Yes, darling Alika, I felt better. 

My arms slipped around your sides, my hands up to your 
shoulder blades, and I held you as tight as I dared, my 
face pressed against the softness of your bosom. I was 
still shaking a little, still full of passion for my 
Babygirl, full of gratitude for this moment. I was at 
passionate, trembling peace.

We stayed like that for some minutes, it seemed. Then, 
after a while I felt your lips go away from my 
forehead, your grip on my head relaxed. I looked up to 
see your head back on the cushion and your eyes closed 
again. I made a trail of kisses down your belly; I 
kissed your moist pussy, licked some of the residue of 
juices away.

I squeezed the last drops of semen from the end of my 
penis, folded your cum-stained panty and wiped your 
cunny lips with it. You shuddered, made a mewing sound, 
half asleep. I rubbed my unshaven face against your 
inner thighs and tummy once more, before raising myself 
up off my knees and pulling up my slip to cover my 
half-erection, then my jogging pants. 

I looked down upon your perfect beauty. I rearranged 
your robe, covering your pale shoulders and breasts, 
now slightly reddened from the friction of my face and 
from your own passion. I placed your legs together more 
comfortably on the couch, and closed the silky robe 
over your lower body. You were breathing shallowly. I 
knew you wanted to sleep. In a few minutes you would be 
my little ten year old daughter again, a sleeping 
beauty. Later you would find your way to your empty 
bed, but for now you were just fine where you were. 
Satisfied and drained.

You licked your lips, mumbled sleepily, smiling, eyes 
closed, as I left the room: "Keep the panty, Daddy, for 
later".

I went to my bathroom, prepared myself for bed. I 
didn't want to shower; I wanted your odours all around 
me tonight. And later, when I was recovered, and I 
heard you go to your room, heard you moving about, I 
masturbated again, as usual. I had your photo, And I 
had your ivory coloured panty, still moist from my 
earlier seminal discharge and full of your sex odours. 
And I had the intense memory of what had happened 
tonight.

And I knew you still loved me, Alika. It was enough.

END 

I'm always pleased to get reactions of all kinds to my 
stories, so drop me a line at : tallman034@aol.com if 
you have something to say that's interesting.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 54