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Sweet Sixteen
by J.E.Ashbourne (jennifereliseashbourne@yahoo.co.uk)

***

A man takes his daughter to the city for her 
16th to see a show, but the room turns out to have a 
double bed and there are no twin rooms left. After 
shopping and a musical show they return to the room for 
the night. (Mf, ped, inc, 1st, mast, oral)

***

We travelled first class. It was a three hour journey so 
I wanted peace and quiet and some comfort. As the lush 
green countryside rushed past in a blur of dazzled 
sunlight I looked up from my laptop at my daughter's 
face. She was staring absently out of the window, the 
sunlight dancing across her pretty features. Sixteen! 
How did she get to be sixteen? It seemed like yesterday 
she could fit in the palm of my hand, just five pounds 
and twelve ounces. 

Now that tiny baby was sitting across the table, 
daydreaming. She had a lovely figure. Over the past 
year, in particular, her breasts and bottom had rounded 
out into a fine shape, and her long athletic legs were 
taut and slender. Her hair was a coppery red and her 
features were delicate like the Russian name I had given 
her. 

Tamara, or Tammy, as she liked to be called, was the 
very picture of sixteen year old beauty. Sometimes I 
struggled to believe she was my daughter, she was so 
beautiful. I also had a problem being around her 
sometimes because she was oblivious to me as a man. She 
paid almost no mind to what she wore, or didn't wear, 
around the house. 

Frequently she would come into my room in just her 
underwear, or sometimes in just a towel, which I prayed 
would fall, and sometimes it did, and she would sit on 
my bed talking to me with her beautifully shaped breasts 
teasing me as she made no effort to cover up. I would 
try to hide my excitement as Major Tom stood to 
attention and saluted my delectable sweetheart.

Today was her sixteenth birthday present: A trip to 
London to see Les Miserables on the West End stage. She 
had seen the film but was dying to see the West End 
production. And through one thing and another I had 
never taken her to London until this point. I had booked 
us into a four star hotel and once we got to London we 
caught one of those London Black Cabs to the hotel. It 
was fabulous as we walked into the foyer: Marble floors 
and surfaces with heavy old oak doors with brass 
fittings. I walked over to the check in desk and a 
smiling face greeted me. I knew she couldn't be from 
London because the smile was too genuine.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" She enunciated in her 
best English with her light Eastern European accent. 

I handed her my reservation, "I've booked a twin room 
for two nights."

She took the reservation and read it. She tapped several 
things into the computer. Then she turned to her 
colleague next to her, another pleasant looking young 
woman, and they swapped several exchanges in their 
native tongue. I guessed Polish, but it could equally 
have been Bulgarian, Hungarian or Ukrainian.

"I am sorry, Mister Edwards, there seems to have been a 
mix up with your reservation."

"Mix up? What mix up? You do have a room booked for me, 
don't you?"

"Yes, we do," she said apologetically, "but we have only 
a double room."

"Well, can we change it? I mean, is there a problem?" I 
said.

"I am sorry, Mister Edwards, but we are fully booked. We 
only have this room available now."

I wasn't happy. I explained that I was travelling with 
my daughter and it was hardly appropriate to have her 
sleep in the same bed as me. They apologised, and they 
completely refunded one of our two nights in recompense, 
but we were stuck with the one room, and one bed.

I turned and walked over to my expectant young daughter, 
but she just shrugged, "Okay", and that was that. The 
room was fine, and we settled in before heading out to 
Oxford Street – where all the shops are. Tammy was in 
High Street Heaven and I was in Hell. I've never liked 
shopping. I shop when I need something, and it's a quick 
into the shop "that'll do" and back out. This was wall 
to wall, floor upon floor, of pure commercialism. Yuk!

We returned to the hotel with bags from all the shops 
she loved. Then we both took a bath in the cute three 
quarter sized bath and when I came out she was dressed 
already. She looked amazing in her little black dress. 
Every curve was shown to its best advantage, and of 
course, her thighs emerged from beneath the mini skirt 
with such silky smoothness I felt a twitch in much groin 
instantly, knowing I was growing inside my pants. 
Somehow I managed to stifle the stiffy (I usually use 
mental arithmetic to do this) and she didn't seem to 
notice, even when she gave me a firm hug in thanks for 
bringing her to London.

We arrived at the theatre in plenty of time; another 
taxi ride costing the Earth. We had drinks at the bar – 
a soft drink for her, of course – and then we took our 
seats. We were at the end of the row on the left hand 
side. Tammy chose to sit right on the end as it gave her 
a better view between the people in front. The lights 
dimmed in the packed auditorium and the show began. I'm 
not the biggest fan of musicals, but Tammy was in her 
element. She grabbed my hand and held it on her lap for 
the first half of the show, only letting go when the 
lights came up at the interval.

A couple of overpriced ice creams and some drinks later 
and we were back in our seats as the lights dimmed. I 
rested my hand on Tammy's leg in readiness of her taking 
hold of it. But she grabbed my wrist, not my hand, and 
as she dragged it toward her my open palm glided over 
her bare skin and my fingers fell between her silken 
thighs. I didn't look, but I knew that I was close to 
her tiny teenage crotch. Blood stirred through my 
swelling member and I shuffled awkwardly in my seat to 
help hide my excitement from the woman sitting next to 
me. Thankfully, the show was back in full swing. I 
couldn't believe my daughter hadn't moved my hand. But 
then, I didn't try to remove my hand either.

And there we stayed as song after song played stirringly 
across the whirling stage. Except, maybe it was my 
imagination, but I felt I was somehow getting closer up 
between those thighs, until my suspicions were confirmed 
as my little finger wriggled free of vice like thighs 
and wiggled about in that delicious space between thighs 
and crotch. It was then I brush her panties. Not white 
cotton panties I expected, not even the slutty leopard 
print ones she knew I hate but her mother had bought 
her. No, these were lacy; sheer, thin, lace that barely 
covered anything at all and left little or nothing to 
the imagination, even though all I was looking with was 
the tip of my little finger.

I didn't imagine it when she held my hand closer still, 
pressing a second finger up against her laced up kitty. 
I felt her press her crotch to fingers. No mistake. 

I could barely breathe and I daren't move. My mind hoped 
to God no one was looking, but no one was. At these 
prices everyone was glued to the show, including my 
daughter. I managed a sly glance out of the corner of my 
eye and saw her beautiful grey/green eyes absolutely 
welded to the stage.

But there was no mistaking that she was pulling my hand 
up between her silken thighs, opening them slightly for 
access. My mind imagined those lace panties peeking from 
under her short black dress. White, no, she would be too 
conscious of that; black, to hide surreptitiously under 
that oh so small dress. I wondered fleetingly if her bra 
was matching, cupping her perfect little breasts in 
dainty, sultry, sexy black lace, untouched nipples 
forming below and poking tantalisingly through the 
material.

As I looked back at the stage I could see the actors 
swarming all over it; virulent young men with poise and 
powerful voices. It must be they had got my little sweet 
sixteen all hot and bothered, I thought. But there was 
no lying in her little pussy pushing onto my fingers. I 
could feel her warmth; her coarse down scratching on her 
lace panties; and finally I felt the unmistakable feel 
of moisture upon my finger tips. 

My sixteen year old daughter was juicing up on my 
fingers and there was nothing I could do about the blood 
rushing through my mushrooming erection. I was all too 
aware that in my suit trousers I appeared to have 
stuffed an extra leg into my left trouser leg. I tried 
to ignore it, but how do you ignore something throbbing 
like a heartbeat?

Tammy pressed ever harder to my fingers, now holding my 
wrist and clamping her sweet smooth thighs around them. 
I tickled my fingers a little and my mesmerized cherub 
let out the quietest moan as she held me tight to her 
seeping crotch. I did it again, this time not stopping, 
but building up a little imperceptible wiggle that was 
just enough. I felt her squeeze her thighs even tighter 
and then, with a deep long slow exhale, she relaxed. 

Her thighs loosened their vice lice grip and she gently 
pushed my hand away. I was in heaven and hell at once. 
My sweet young daughter had used my hand to bring her to 
orgasm in a packed theatre, and my penis was straining 
hard against my tight suit trousers. Luckily, the lady 
next to me didn't seem notice.

It wasn't long before the show finished with not a dry 
eye in the house, including the winking one in my 
trousers. Tammy was elated, overcome by the spectacle of 
it all, the crowds, and the merchandise we bought on the 
way out. We got a cab back to the hotel; another one of 
those roomy black cabs: She said it all didn't feel 
real, like we were on some huge ride in a theme park 
called London.

She looked amazing as we rode back to the hotel and she 
couched herself into my side, my arm upon her bare 
shoulder. We didn't speak on the way back. The cab 
driver was chatty, and Tammy just smiled coyly whenever 
I caught her eye. We arrived back at the hotel (the cab 
ride making me some twenty pounds poorer) and we went up 
to the room. The elevator ride up to the room was silent 
and I wondered if she was just quiet or was she 
regretting her earlier actions.

When we entered the room she retired to the bathroom. I 
took this time to undress, leaving on only my shorts. I 
never wear pyjamas, and usually sleep naked, but this 
was my concession. I changed the lights to dim lamps and 
switched the TV on to break the uncomfortable silence 
and the spectre of the looming double bed. 

When Tamara emerged from the bathroom she was dressed in 
a short white satin nightdress which danced about her 
perfectly taut thighs. The halter neck was enough to 
hint her cleavage and it showed her pert little breasts 
perfectly, even her conical nipples were showing 
through. As she stood coyly at the bottom of the bed I'm 
sure she was unaware the bathroom light backlit her 
beautiful body as though she were completely naked 
before me. Every delicate curve, every bump, and even 
the darker down in her soft v between her legs was 
caught and shown to me as clearly as ever I could have 
imagined.

I smiled what I hoped was a disarming smile and threw 
the covers gently back for her to get into her side of 
the bed. She smiled a thank you and came to the 
uncovered bedside. I couldn't take my eyes off her 
perfect form, and as she got into bed I was given the 
greatest view of her bare thighs as her shift slipped up 
her legs almost giving me a view between her legs. She 
pulled the covers back over her. 

There was nothing much on television except for an old 
film I remembered being quite good. Tamara leaned over 
and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you, Daddy." I smiled 
at her and she slunk down into the bed and turned over. 
I wondered if her shift had ridden high as she slunk 
down. Was it now around her waist instead? I was 
answered when she put an arm under the covers to put 
things right and then the arm emerged again. She had 
such slender arms and dainty little feminine hands, 
delicate fingers, long and fine. The film droned on, and 
even though it was a good film I felt my drowsiness 
overcoming me. I clicked the TV remote off and fell 
soundly into the land of nod. 

I awoke some time in darkness. I was instantly aware of 
two things. I had an enormous erection throbbing from my 
crotch. And it was pushing insistently into my 
daughter's satin clad backside. I froze! How long had I 
been like this? Could I risk moving or would I wake her?

I was answered rather unexpectedly when Tammy shifted 
position. Her top leg pushed forward allowing my 
insistent member to push below her peachy young bottom 
and nestle along her natural groove. I could barely 
breathe as I felt the next unexpected sensation – her 
delicate fingers unmistakably touching my length.

She felt along, tracing its thinly cottoned outline from 
base to swollen glans. Circling its end with her 
fingertips she then felt down again, taking firm hold of 
me in her hand. I wondered if she was asleep and acting 
this out in her dream. Maybe I had held her too close in 
my sleep and now she was seeing what was so firmly 
pressing into her backside? But she was sixteen, and 
though innocent in terms of her peers, she knew what it 
was right enough.

She then pushed it up firmly to her girlish groove and 
unexpectedly I felt her fingertips intricately explore 
the underside of me. I had one hand over her, resting on 
what I felt was the soft, yet firm swell of her pert 
young breast. I felt her warmth through her nightshirt 
and involuntarily squeezed it gently. I heard her 
breathe in sharply, her breath becoming shallow. Her 
fingers now were searching, looking for something she 
soon found. 

She found the button on my shorts and upon unpicking it 
my firm rod of flesh sprang free and slapped hard 
pressed between her softest globes. She wasn't wearing 
any underwear, and I couldn't help but think my little 
innocent was not so innocent after all. This proved to 
be the case as she played her fingertips up and around 
my length, carefully caressing my swollen helmet. I 
squeezed her breast again, and she let out a small gasp. 
Her grasp upon me tightened. I gently kissed the back of 
her neck.

"Daddy?" she whispered, still holding me in her palm.

I didn't answer, but kissed the nape of her neck. Little 
kisses in those little places I know that women like; 
below and behind her ear. She gently started massaging 
my pulsing manhood and I traced her nipple through her 
satin shift. I felt her cup my cock and press it firmly 
to her groove. I was pressed to softest velvet, exciting 
me further; her opening peach wet with her own 
excitement, glossing my swollen head with its slippery 
sheen. But I held back.

"I want to, Daddy" she said in a husky low voice I had 
never heard from her before. It was rough, common and 
sexy, filled with nervousness, fear and lust.

"Are you sure?" I whispered into her ear.

She nodded, "Yes." She said.

I kissed her ear, letting my tongue gently caress her 
earlobe.

"Okay, then, Sweetheart. If you're sure."

"I'm sure," she gasped as I massaged her breast 
purposefully.

It was then I felt her press my head into her warm wet 
hole. It was so delightful! So warm! So wet! So tight 
around me! I was in that little piece of heaven between 
my daughter's legs and it filled me with excitement that 
pulsed from the tip of my cock down through my shaft, 
through my stem and ball-sack and up through arsehole to 
a point deep inside my arse. It throbbed like a 
heartbeat. The surface of my skin became sensitive as I 
let my hand caress over her satin shift, down to where I 
found it gathered at her waist. Her hip was shapely and 
naked to my touch, and I felt down over her exposed 
globe and up one slender steady thigh.

She adjusted slightly so I entered her further, and I 
took the hint to start my miniature movements in and out 
of my daughter's juice. It coated me further with each 
motion, and with firm but gentle persuasion I insisted 
my cock deeper into her slick insides. She bent further 
forward, trying to get me deeper quicker, her own 
motions starting to meet mine. It was then I reached 
something I wasn't sure I really would. I felt the 
resistance of her virgin hymen upon the head of my 
manhood.

"You're a virgin" I said, not realizing the paradox of 
what I was saying.

"Not really" she said.

"Are sure you want me to..."

"Yes, Daddy," she gasped, "Please, Daddy." She said 
insistently. "Fuck me."

Hearing my gorgeous daughter's husky plea dissolved my 
indecision. I moved forward, my hips thrust into her, my 
member driving deeper into her, through her maidenhood 
and into the woman inside. She stiffened up and I 
stopped deep, deep inside her, immersed to the hilt of 
my shaft. 

"Okay?" I asked, concerned.

"I'm okay," she breathed.

I leaned close and kissed her spine between her shoulder 
blades. She moaned lowly, and I returned to my gentle 
movements, in and out of my daughter's succulent pussy. 
She clenched her pussy walls and held me tight. I 
stopped.

"Don't stop," she begged, "it feels good."

That was my green flag, my invitation, my validation. I 
held her hip and started to thrust in and out, long, 
slow, deep thrusts. Her teenage tunnel was tight and its 
slick fleshy walls would grip and relent, making my cock 
throb with extra excitement. I built up the rhythm of a 
lucky, lucky man, fucking his own willing daughter as 
she revelled on her first cock. She gasped and matched 
me every thrust, my pubis bumping into her shapely 
rounded arse cheeks. I heard my daughter's excitement 
rising, her breathing was short and she was making soft 
high pitched whines that just made my own pleasure 
multiply.

"Oh!" she whinnied. 

I pumped her faster, picking up the pace and slamming my 
cock into her cunt as she mewed like a breeding kitty. 
But my little sex kitten wasn't done yet.

"You gonna come?" I gasped.

She nodded her head, a piercing whine escaping her lips 
into the bed-sheets, "Yes!"

It was all I needed to hear as I began fucking her like 
a hound in heat: Animal thrusts pounding her pussy. I 
could feel my climax coming, my balls tightening and my 
glans so excruciatingly pleasurable – And suddenly I was 
coming! Pumping her pussy full of cock jam! I felt her 
grip my rod and wash it with gushes of her pungent pussy 
juice!

I collapsed, still inside my daughter's swimming pool of 
cum.

I slowly pulled from her sopping quim; the air bathing 
it as I tossed the covers from my body. Tamara hadn't 
moved, and I wondered did she regret our actions. But 
she too tossed the covers off her hot young body and 
turned onto her back to regain her breath. I looked over 
her beautiful young body, still half naked. One leg 
raised and one flat, her sparse darker triangle adorning 
her sweet V. The folds of white satin creased upon her 
flat stomach. 

It fell close to her slim torso and up over her pointed 
swollen chest with its bullet points, for emphasis. Her 
long slender neck, with her finely boned jaw and high 
cheek bones; eye lashes caught by the half-light from 
the bathroom; her coppery hair fallen back from her 
face. Her sweet full pouting lips still breathing heavy, 
her breasts heaving up and down with her recovery.

She turned to look at me. I could see only one eye, 
catching light and reflecting it. I smiled at her. And I 
could see her smile back.

"Thank you," she said in a clear voice tinged with 
embarrassment.

"Thank you," I said, "I think we both needed that."

She nodded.

"Well," I said, "seems like false modesty keeping these 
on now." And I pulled my shorts down and off my legs, 
tossing them aside. Tamara looked down, seeing my penis 
still standing to attention.

"It's still hard!" she said.

Sure enough, it was.

"Little secret you don't know about me," I smiled, "I 
stay hard."

"Isn't it supposed to go down after you come?"

"That's what they say, but it never has with me. It's 
about the only thing your mother loved about me, on the 
rare occasions she actually wanted sex."

"Eww, Dad!"

I laughed.

She reached down and touched it. 

"It's sticky!" she blurted.

"Well, it's been inside your wet pussy! What do you 
expect?" I said.

I heard her gasp in shock, "Daddy!"

"You could clean it, you know." I said.

"Clean it?"

"Yeah... think about it."

There was silence as she thought about it. You could 
never accuse her of being quick. "Daddy! Eww!" She 
blurted.

I laughed, "You know, you might even like it."

"I don't think so." She said, but her fingers were still 
sticking to my cock as she fingered it.

I let the moment sink in, the idea percolating in her 
little head. Then without a word she sat up and knelt 
over my totem pole. I watched as her half-lit half-
silhouetted figure leaned down, her pitch black lips 
opening to kiss the end of my sticky man. I felt her 
tongue touch the eye of my cockhead, circling around and 
around in bigger and wider circles until my head was in 
her mouth and her soft wet muscle was rimming my helmet, 
exciting my glans over and over. I wanted to ask if she 
had done this before, but I didn't want her to stop to 
answer. 

I put a guiding hand upon her head coaching her down my 
shaft, taking more and more of me into her young and 
eager mouth. My other hand smoothed down her back to her 
satin clad bottom. I found the hem and snaked up 
underneath, feeling over her silky skin – shapely 
rounded firm young cheeks. She obviously liked it 
because she leaned over further, allowing me to reach 
her soft young pussy. 

I savoured it – slowly exploring that space where thigh 
meets pussy, her downy cheeks, sparse wisps of soft wire 
tickling the tiny hairs on the backs of my fingers. 
Reaching under, and my daughter now making it so easy 
for me, I coursed through between her legs to her girly 
garden: Its lawn sparse but not mown. She hadn't yet 
succumbed to that fashion, but for how long? I wondered. 
My fingertips ambled leisurely through, tickling and 
exciting her as she excited me. And I heard a moan 
escape her pouting lips, vibrating around my cock.

I trailed down to that delta of flesh, her man-in-the-
boat cheekily standing proud. She flinched and gasped as 
I touched her there, teasing her bean out further from 
its hood. But then I separated my two remaining fingers 
and trailed down through her velveteen folds until I 
reached her seeping lips. Her own lips were slinked up 
and down my pole and I was right, she did like it.

I couldn't stand it any longer and I pulled her toward 
me. She understood instantly, and for a virgin I was 
impressed as she cocked her leg and straddled my face. 
She lowered her succulent lips to my eager lips and 
tongue. She was sweet and tangy, fresh and clean, like 
her youth dictated. My tongue tasted its way through 
moist puffy cheeks and occasional curls to the softest 
tastiest forbidden fruit a man can taste – his own 
daughter's lucid hole.

My tongue circled her hole and she whined with pleasure. 
It wasn't enough though and she pressed her peach down 
onto my mouth, trying to force my tongue inside her. It 
worked. I started thrusting my tongue as far into her 
lucid hole as I could, tongue fucking her! Tasting not 
juice her juice now, but mine too!

"Uh!" she gasped, her mouth releasing me.

I kept going. But I knew this was no way to get her off. 
I lifted her slightly and pulled her up a little so my 
tongue tip could torture her clit. She shrieked when I 
touched it, but tried to grind it into my face. I held 
her in place and did my trick. I flicked my tongue over 
her bean side to side as quick as I could. I thought she 
was going to scream the place down as she squealed like 
a piglet then let out a long guttural moan, more like a 
growl in truth. But I kept going for her. She's my baby, 
after all.

I could feel her body shuddering: Her thighs shaking 
either side of my head and her stomach dipping and 
rising as she tried to breathe and cope with her 
building pleasure. 

"Uh! Daddy! Yes!"  she gasped. I circled her engorged 
clit. "Don't stop!" she blurted.

I went back to the sideways flicking and was instantly 
rewarded with a definite squirt of nectar. My daughter 
was a squirter! I was so turned on! Gripping her 
gorgeous globes, I pulled her down to me and flicked her 
bean like my tongue was on fire. She exploded!!! Juices 
gushed into my mouth, tangier, more pungent than before, 
like strong peach tea.  I swallowed, but kept on 
flicking. She was shrieking like she was having a 
laughing fit. Squirt after squirt hit the back of my 
throat. I gulped! Juices splashed all over my face and 
Tamara shook so hard her whole body started to spasm! 

"Uh! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Uuummmm!" she died down, still 
spasming on me. I flicked her bean one more time and she 
recoiled, rolling off me. "No more!" she gasped. "It's 
too much. It's too nice."

She lay next to me, inversed. I watched her body 
convulsing as the mini-orgasms still rocked through her.

"Never done that before, then?" I asked.

She shook her head, "Never done anything before."

I smiled. I was so honoured to be my little girl's first 
lover. But there was a problem.

I waited for her spasms to die down, her breathing to 
return to normal. Then I said, "You know, I still have a 
big problem: One which you made rather worse."

"What?"

I pointed down at my aching erection still aiming for 
the stars. She giggled.

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

"I noticed" I said.

"Won't it just go down on its own?"

"It would eventually," I said, "but I'm starting to get 
Blue Balls."

She leaned up on one arm, her hair was damp; some matted 
to her sweat beaded brow.

"I thought that was rubbish made up by boys to get you 
to let them fuck you."

"It's also true. A guy's balls will really hurt if he's 
aroused for too long without coming."

"But didn't you...?"

"The first time; yes. Not just now, though."

She looked at it – my monolith. She smiled and reached 
out and touched it again. Much as I enjoyed her touch, I 
was starting to really need more. I took her hand away 
and sat up next to her. I looked into her pretty face 
and touched her feline features. I leaned down and 
kissed her on the lips. She has the most beautiful lips, 
full and pouting, and I sucked her bottom lip into my 
mouth, sending tingles through my awesome daughter. I 
let her go, but followed up with another kiss. This time 
she joined in and I let my tongue just touch her lips. 
She caught on and next time I felt her tongue touch 
mine. And pretty soon we were French kissing. She'd 
never done this either, I could tell. 

My hand went to her waist and I started to pull up her 
satin nightshirt. She sat up and as I lifted it up she 
raised her arms like she was six, not sixteen. But 
seeing her naked the first time in maybe six years was a 
pleasure on the senses. She looked as good as sixteen 
looks. Better. Her little frame was perfectly formed: 
Shapely, every curve an asset; small, but beautifully 
formed breasts with conical nipples still screaming her 
youth; a darker V of pubic hair announcing her readiness 
for cock. She smelled of sex and she still had 
willingness in her eyes. 

"I want fuck you, Tammy," I said, "I really want fuck 
you so much right now."

She giggled, a little embarrassed girl. She even covered 
her breasts with her arms. I moved her arms away.

"Don't be embarrassed. You're so beautiful."

"Just feels weird you saying that. Looking at me like 
that."

"After what we've done already?"

She laughed again, embarrassed again.

I caressed her waist and leaned down to kiss her again. 
She was a girl of action, not words. She took to kissing 
like an angel and pretty soon she was breathless again. 
She surprised me then. Deep in kissing she wrapped her 
arms around my neck, lifted up and wrapped first one and 
then her other leg right around me, pressing her pussy 
tight up against my cock, pressing it to my stomach. I 
held onto her butt cheeks as I rolled her up my rock 
hard hurting cock. I was just about there when I reached 
underneath. She loosened her grip and with my hand 
underneath and hers now down between us we both 
manoeuvred my cock to her cunt, father and daughter, and 
I entered her once more.

I went in easily, and Tammy began rocking, bouncing on 
my pole, sending it deep inside her, filling her up. She 
was so small, so tight, but so wet and so willing. What 
she didn't have in experience she made up for with 
enthusiasm. I was even quite amused by her performance, 
but it wasn't fast enough for me, and if she was 
anything like her mother had been she didn't have the 
stamina to go for long.

I lifted her up and then lay her on her back, with me 
still balls deep in my daughter's cunt. I was in the 
driving seat now and I started pumping into her like I 
meant it. We were still kissing, proper lovers now, and 
still feeling each other's bodies. Her breasts felt so 
good as they heaved with every shove of cock and cunt, 
ripples of pleasure through her body, wobbling like 
jellyfish. Her lips and tongue gave way to open mouthed 
ecstasy, round reddened lips gasping for air. Her face 
was blushed and she was panting heavily as I pumped 
again and again into her perfect pussy.

"Faster! Faster!" Gasped my little girl as I fucked her 
hard.

I took my cue, going faster, revelling in the feeling of 
my balls slapping her arse with every inward stroke. 

"Faster!" she blurted, her breath so shallow I thought 
she might have an asthma attack any second. 

Faster I went, not sure how much longer I could keep 
this up. But faster I went. I could feel my jizz 
building to bursting point as I rammed my cock home, 
again and again and again. In and out of her, her legs 
bouncing haplessly outwards like shaking banana-skins. I 
was building to climax; Tammy panting and starting to 
squeal again. Then I felt her clamping tight around my 
cockhead, squeezing it with her cunt walls. That was all 
I needed! 

Two more thrusts and I pulled out of my baby girl and 
erupted cum all the way up her lithe young body, 
spraying jet after jet of white pearl jam up her sweaty 
skin. I stopped abruptly, shattered, sweat dripping off 
the end of my nose down onto my poor daughter's 
forehead. But she didn't really notice. I looked down to 
see her eyes were closed and her body was still shaking. 
I looked down between us to see my daughter's hand was a 
blur at her pussy. 

I knelt back so I could watch better as Tamara strummed 
her bud like fury! Her other hand was massaging her 
breasts in turn, rubbing my cum all over them. My cum 
was everywhere, shining in the half-light, running off 
in little rivulets, pools gathered in her belly button 
and running off each side looking like a choker 
necklace. It was matted through her pubic hair. It was 
on her hands. And it was drizzled like Caesar Salad 
dressing over face, her tongue coming out to lick her 
cum laced lips. With a final flurry I watched as my 
sweet sixteen jerked and spasmed, spraying her inner 
thighs, bed-sheets and me with teenage girl cum. She 
gasped and collapsed one after the other.

I collapsed next to her. I was spent. And so was she.

Or so I thought. She woke me another twice that night. 
She was insatiable! I wasn't worried about her getting 
pregnant. She had been on the pill for two years due to 
irregular periods. We had the whole weekend to 
ourselves, and whenever we returned to the hotel for any 
reason she wanted to do it again. We showered together. 
We became so comfortable around each other naked that we 
seldom wore anything in the room at all. The train 
journey home was a return to reality, we both knew. But 
she looked amazing as we took our first class ride 
homeward. 

The sun caught her coppery hair and she kept catching my 
eye and smiling. Halfway through the journey I was 
working on my laptop when I felt the unmistakable feel 
of something touching my crotch. I looked down to see my 
daughter's sock covered toes rubbing insistently at my 
swelling cock. I looked over my laptop to see Tamara 
looking innocently out of the window. She smiled, 
knowingly.

The End

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real 
life" can look forward to many unproductive years 
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their 
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 84