                         Daddy, Please?
                         An Erotic Story
                          Parts 1-6/??

     "Daddy, please?"
     I'm weak.  I never could resist my little girl, when she 
gave me that innocent, pleading look. To hear her beg, you'd 
think she was dying of thirst, and just wanted a tiny drop of 
water, before she withered up and died.  Only what the little 
girl wanted, wasn't water to drink.
     My wife, of course, was no help, even in this.  "Oh, go 
ahead, Don," she almost choked with laughter.  "You can see the 
kid really wants it."
     "But, but ...," I spluttered.
     I looked down at where our almost naked 6-year-old had 
crawled into bed with me and my wife.  The little pre-schooler 
had her father's (my) fat, swollen, and treacherous penis in her 
hot little hand, mouth open, and almost ready to take the prick 
inside her mouth.  It was only fast reactions that had prevented 
the little girl from already taking several inches in her now-
pouting little mouth.  Sandy seemed SO disappointed that I wasn't 
letting her do something that would drive most kids away in 
horror at the very thought of ... sucking their own father's 
prick.
     "Please, Daddy," she repeated.  "I'll make it feel REAL good 
for you, I promise!"
     I had no doubt about that.  Even the worst and most 
inexperienced blow-job I ever had, was right-on.  Having my own 
little girl TRYING to make it feel good for me, would be twenty 
times the erotic fantasy that even an experienced hooker "doing 
her duty" to a customer would ever be.
     "Uh ...."  Once again, I looked over at my wife for support, 
and received none.  Marin's eyes danced with glee, as she saw me 
caught in my own trap.  After all, *I* was the one who read 
stories about little girls who liked sex, and insisted that they 
were true ... or at least, could be true.  To be accosted by our 
own child trying to prove *my own* point to *me*, seemed to her 
to be poetic justice, of a kind.
     "Thanks, Daddy!"  Without waiting further for parental 
permission that I seemed unable to give, the little girl took my 
absence of denial for consent.  Suddenly I wasn't able to think 
clearly any more, as a hot wet, WONDERFUL something surrounded 
the head of my penis, and started moving around it.  That 
something, was my own little girl's mouth.
     "Oh God," I moaned; involuntarily clutching the child's 
head, and moving her back and forth, so her sucking mouth slid up 
and down on my swollen penis like some expensive imitation of a 
vagina.
     "See, Daddy," commented Sandy, temporarily pulling back and 
taking her mouth off my prick so she could talk, "I told you I'd 
make it feel good for you."  With that, my daughter returned to 
sucking my prick with gusto, until I started feeling the tingles 
in the head that presaged a full blown ejaculation, like I hadn't 
had in days.  Where or how the little girl had learned to do this 
so well, and why she even WANTED to do what most girls thought 
was nasty and obscene ... especially girls her age ... sucking 


                                1


the thing her father PEED out of, like it was the finest 
candy ....
     "Oh God," I repeated.  "I'm going to cum."
     Sandy didn't stop sucking.  If anything, the little girl 
started moving faster, and I felt her tiny tongue swirling around 
the head of my prick, and poking into the pee-hole.
     "I'm going to cum in your mouth!" I warned her, even louder 
this time.  "Sandy!"
     Sandy just looked up at me, eyes wide open and smiling the 
way only a child's eyes can smile.
     "I'm going to squirt my cum in your mouth," I amplified.  
"You'd better stop now."  I figured it was bad enough letting my 
little girl suck my prick, without having her grossed-out or even 
throw up when I ejaculated my semen in her mouth.  However much 
the child liked to actually suck prick (and from her actions, 
even I was starting to become a believer that Sandy actually DID 
like what she was doing ... The "Mmmm"'s and mewls of 
appreciation were all too like the kind the child made when 
eating her favorite ice-cream or other foods) I just KNEW that 
ejaculating thick white cum out of my prick into her mouth would 
be such a nasty and traumatic event, the little girl might end up 
turned-off from sex for the rest of her life.  Heck, even 
seasoned whores rarely let Johns cum in their mouths; and those 
who did, usually spit it out as fast as they could.  Only in sex-
films, did it seem that women actually liked tasting cum.  And 
everybody knows how fake THOSE are.  I couldn't do such a thing 
to my own daughter.  I wanted the little girl to LIKE sex.  And 
to top it off, I would forever feel guilty if I took a child who 
actually LIKED oral sex, and turned her into hating it, by doing 
such a nasty thing as cumming in her mouth, while she was being 
so nice to ME by sucking my prick.  No, I just couldn't do it, no 
matter HOW much my aching prick wanted to explode in the child's 
hard-working mouth, where a lively tongue was working harder than 
I would have believed my daughter could go.
     Forcing myself to pull away, I took Sandy's head in mine and 
pulled her off me.  No way could I ruin her life, for my own 
pleasure.
     Only ... Sandy looked up at me, tears in her eyes at my 
forcing her to stop.  "Please, Daddy?" she asked.  "I want to 
taste it.  Please, just this once?"
     Again, my wife didn't give me any support.  "Oh, go ahead," 
she responded to my silent plea for her backing.  "You can SEE 
that she wants it, so why not?  It's not as if you were forcing 
her, or did it unexpectedly."
     "Please, Daddy?"
     I'm sorry to say, I did it.  Like I said, I never could 
resist my little girl.  With great aching heaves and splurts, I 
felt surge after surge of thick greasy cum ripple through the 
tube on the bottom of my prick, once Sandy returned to sucking 
and slurping on it.  And, instead of being disgusted and pulling 
away when her father started ejaculating his seed in her mouth, 
my daughter actually forced her head forward two more inches, so 
that almost three quarters of my prick was in her mouth; and I 
was almost ejaculating my cum right down her throat.  Surge after 
surge, blast after blast.  It seemed my cum would never stop 


                                2


squirting.
     But finally it did.  I knelt there in weary amazement, as 
the child lapped up the overflow that had escaped her mouth when 
my heavy ejaculations were too fast for her to swallow.  Licking 
around the base of my prick, she cleaned up every drop; making 
hums and mewls of appreciation for the taste, as if it was the 
finest of ambrosia or (her favorite) ice-cream.  Then she popped 
my wilting prick back into her mouth, and nursed it until it 
finally wilted into a nubbin.
     "Thanks, Daddy!" she told me; emphasizing her gladness, with 
a big hug and sloppy kiss (that tasted faintly of semen).  "I 
told you, you would like it; can we do it again; please, Daddy, 
please, please, please?" she ran her sentences happily together 
in the exuberance only little girls can have.  "I'll make it feel 
REAL good for you next time," she promised.
     And that (of course) was just the start.
     I was just starting to ease down from one of the most 
incredible sex-experiences of my life, where my own baby girl 
gave me about the best blow-job I'd ever gotten.  (No, as blow-
jobs go, Sandy's inexperience would normally have placed her on 
the BOTTOM of the list for technique and ability.  Several times 
she had accidentally caught the glans of my prick with her teeth, 
and twice she had almost gagged while actually seeming to TRY to 
deep-throat me, in a manner that even women three times her age 
would be hard-put to do.  No, what made the sex so good, was 
first, it was my own little girl ... the one I would do ANYTHING 
for, except hurt somebody else.  Second, it was her enthusiasm.  
Sandy didn't do the blow-job to impress anybody.  She didn't do 
it for money, fame, or as a duty.  Sandy did it because she LIKED 
me, her own father, wanted me to feel good, and [unbelievable as 
it seemed at first] because she LIKED to do it.)  Sex, ANY sex, 
is wonderful, unless one person is forcing another.  Then it's 
horror incarnate.  That's the main reason I had been so reluctant 
to give in to my little girl's request.  I was afraid she was 
being pressured somehow into doing this ... by my wife, by some 
girlfriend (Little girls CAN be quite nasty and catty at times.) 
or (worst of all) by some unspeakable pervert who had some 
terrible hold over her.  Once it became crystal clear that Sandy 
really wanted to do this ON HER OWN, without somebody forcing her 
to do it, then it became impossible for me to resist ... or to 
enjoy far more than a man ever should enjoy molesting his little 
girl.
     Which brought up the next point:  WHO was the Son-of-a-
BITCH, who had taught my innocent little girl to WANT to suck a 
man's prick like a seasoned whore?  (Never mind her comparatively 
poor performance.  I'd still give her an A+ for both effort, and 
for the fact it was her first time.)
     I was about to burst into furious questions, both at my wife 
and Sandy, when I realized that her first real experience with 
sex was NOT the time to traumatize my daughter with harsh words, 
or start interrogating her like a cop trying to beat a confession 
out of a hardened criminal.  So, I caught my breath, tried to 
ease my furiously beating heart from that wonderful ordeal, and 
cuddle my little girl while we both recuperated from her first 
sexual experience with her own father.


                                3


     Only Sandy, after a moment of cuddling up to me, didn't seem 
to be calming down or easing up like I was.  In fact, after about 
a minute or two she began squirming and wriggling in my arms 
almost involuntarily; seeming unaware at first of what she was 
doing to me and the prick that SHOULD have been satisfied for the 
day after that incredible blow-job.
     "Please, Daddy?" she whimpered.
     Like I said earlier, I never could resist my little girl.  
However, this time it wasn't so obvious what she wanted; as she 
didn't have my prick in her hand, about to swallow it, like 
earlier.  I looked over at my grinning wife for guidance.
     Marin seemed to be getting WAY too much pleasure out of my 
discomfort.  She had always known I was a pedophile, since years 
before she even agreed to marry me.  It took me quite a while to 
convince her that while I found little girls sexy, I was NOT the 
kind of guy who would pick up kids in the park and stick my 
finger in their pants.  In fact, chances were I wouldn't even 
touch a little girl who came on to me.  After all, I have my 
ethics.  Kids, especially LITTLE kids (like Sandy, or younger) 
just do NOT go up to strangers and ask them if they want to fuck.  
Such things are only wet-dreams, or sophomoric stories written by 
teenagers who probably never got laid in their lives.
     However, I DID know that some girls (and boys too) actually 
got interested in sex at an early age.  Some as young as ten 
years old, or even younger.  Heck, even babies liked to have 
their genitals rubbed; and often would play with themselves, if 
not covered up and prevented with heavy diapers.  It FEELS good 
to be touched down there.  Getting this idea across to my wife, 
took a while, but was worth it.  Otherwise, I don't think she 
would have married me in the first place, or agreed to have a 
child with me, if she thought I might be molesting the kid, in 
the second.
     However, there HAD been one dustup since Sandy was born:  
About (of course) my books.  Marin had wanted me to either toss 
them, or hide them at the very least.  Especially, as she said 
they were unrealistic.  Little ten-year-old girls, just did NOT 
go up to their fathers and ask the man to stick his thick prick 
up inside their tight little bellies and fuck them without 
worries of disease, pregnancy, or the other parent finding out.  
However, *I* remembered all too well when *I* was young.  I 
remembered how much I WANTED sex, even at ten, and probably a 
year or two younger than that.  I simply ACHED to find a girl (or 
woman!) to have sex with.  And later, when I was an adult, I had 
discussed this with my big sister, and found out SHE had felt the 
same way, only she started younger than I did!  Oh God, if I had 
only known.
     Only kids just never DO think of siblings as possible sex 
partners, dates, or even real human beings.  Sisters are SISTERS.  
They get in your way, make fun of you, hog the bathroom, go out 
on dates with some of the awfullest creeps, and generally make a 
little boy's life miserable.  But still somehow you love them 
anyway.  Carol, it turned out, felt the same way about me.  She 
DID admit having a crush on Dad though; but it never came to 
anything.  Such crushes rarely do; though they are far more 
common than many people think.  (And sometimes, like Sandy, they 


                                4


develop into something far more intense than a mere crush.)
     So, for the past several months, our disagreement about my 
books (It hadn't escalated into an argument.) had shifted to 
where I was defending the idea that SOME little girls actually DO 
want sex at an early age (like my sister had) even if possibly 
MOST do not (like Marin insisted such ideas had never occurred to 
her).  Each of us was SURE we were right, and with personal 
experience along with friends and family to back it up.  For 
several months now, Marin had sometimes teased me by pointing out 
especially sexy little girls ... most particularly the kind who 
wore little slut, "fuck me" outfits down at the mall; asking me 
what I'd do if the kid walked over and asked if she could take me 
to bed.  Of course, *I* would respond by pointing out that the 
little girl in question probably DID want sex, as the kinderslut 
outfit seemed to show.  She was most likely afraid to ask though; 
so the sex-bomb outfit was an attempt to get some guy to ask her.
     And Marin (of course) would respond by saying it was a lot 
more likely that the little girl's FATHER had dressed her up like 
a sexpot, so he could ogle his little girl's charms, and show her 
off to all the other men, in a macho, "See what *I'VE* got, that 
you can't have," display, that men are so fond of doing.
     I (again, of course) would respond by pointing out that 
almost ALL of such kids' clothing was bought by loving mothers, 
NOT horny dads.  So, what did THAT imply?
     The conversations usually stopped there; though I HAD 
gathered up most of my books, and filed them neatly in the 
headboard of the bed.  While Marin was a wonderful wife, and we 
(usually) had sex almost twice a day on average, I STILL needed 
to "handle things on my own" once in a while.  And books like, 
"Daughter's Hot Mouth" and "Daddy's Little Darlings" or "The 
autobiography of a Flea" did a lot to help me "do my duty".  For 
some reason, stories about little girls who LIKE sex (like I kept 
insisting to Marin did exist) were almost always at least 
partially incestuous.  I guess that's because when YOUNG, the 
place a girl can find sex the easiest, is in the family.
     So, there I was, with a reviving prick, after one of the 
best blow-jobs of my life (if inexperienced) and a squirming 
little girl in my arms, while I looked over helplessly at my 
grinning wife.
     "What does she want NOW?" I asked plaintively.
     Marin's grin grew even wider.
     "I think she wants to be molested," she choked; almost 
collapsing in giggles on the bed.  To my wife, having our little 
girl making obscene advances on her pedophile husband, seemed 
like the funniest thing in the world.  Especially, as I was 
resisting far harder than she would expect most men who never 
even thought of little girls as sex-objects to do.
     "Daddy, Please?" whined Sandy.
     "Oh God, I can't," I groaned myself.  "I can't rape my own 
daughter!"
     "Oh don't be silly," snapped Marin; for once, losing her 
composure; and slipping from hilarity into annoyance.  "She's 
much too little for that.  You won't be able to fit that nasty 
THING of yours in her for several years yet so don't even THINK 
of trying!  You don't have to FUCK a girl to have sex with her, 


                                5


you know.  Even *I* knew that, when I was probably younger than 
she is."  That was the FIRST time Marin had ever admitted having 
sexual interests at all, before she was twelve years old.
     "You can kiss her, cuddle her, feel her up, have her suck 
your cock <giggle> lick her, rub her, even stick your finger in 
her hole, or up her ass.  You DON'T have to put your prick in a 
girl to make it feel good for her.  Get the idea?"
     "Please, Daddy?"
     Oh God.
     "You can even cum in her, if you want to," amplified Marin; 
taking pleasure at my discomfort.  I could almost hear her 
thought, 'Serves the old bastard right, for being a pedophile!'  
At my openmouthed objection, she continued, "Yes, you can hold 
your prick up against her ass, or even her cunny, and squirt 
inside her THAT way.  You don't HAVE to have your cock inside a 
girl to get cum in her, you know.  My mother pointed this out to 
me many years ago, when I *thought* I was having 'safe sex' with 
a guy.  I'm sure Sandy would love to have your cum inside her 
body, no matter WHERE you squirt it, wouldn't you, Honey?"
     "Please, Daddy?"
     Oh God.
     I figured that I just HAD to find out where both Sandy AND 
Marin have been getting this stuff.  It sounded WAY too much like 
some of the wet-dream stories I kept on the headboard.  
"Daughter's Hot Mouth, BOOK II", came to mind, along with a 
couple others.
     A sudden thought tore through my head; and I looked in 
horror at the bookshelf above the bed, while Marin grinned even 
broader.  Oh God, no.
     "Please, Daddy?"  Now a whimper of desperation.
     "Well?" asked Marin; now seeming annoyed.  "Are you just 
going to stand there and tease the child, when you can see she 
needs you?"
     Oh God.  I looked down again; and Sandy was now squirming 
against me; her eyes blank and desperate as she pleaded for 
something, anything, to ease the feelings she was having for 
probably the first time.
     I'm both sorry, and proud at the same time, to say that I 
gave in once again to the child's pleading, and did what most 
people would consider the worst thing a father could do to his 
own little girl.  Yes, I did what my wife suggested, and molested 
Sandy.
     Reaching down between my little girl's legs, I ran a finger 
over her plump little cunny-lips.  Sandy arched her back, and 
thrust her hips forward into my searching finger; almost writhing 
against me in an attempt to force the probing member into her hot 
and ready sex.  Yes, little girl or not, Sandy was wet and ready, 
as my obscene fingering of the little girl soon met slippery 
drool seeping from the child's crack.  I could not avoid the 
evidence.  Sandy wanted SEX, and from her own father; even though 
it would probably be years before her tiny vagina would be big 
enough to accept a member the size of mine.
     Still, even babies like to have their genitals rubbed; and 
there are many ways to help a girl get off without sticking your 
swollen and throbbing prick into her belly and filling the 


                                6


child's womb with incestuous seed.  Shit.  There went my little 
head, thinking for the big one again.  I tried to shut it down 
(and partially succeeded; as my penis had just finished the best 
sex in months).  Ignoring my own rising heat, I tried my best to 
help cool my little girl's.
     By this time, Sandy was squirming and panting into my ear; 
her hot breath pleading, "Oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh, oh, oh," while 
I petted her raised mons and cupped her tiny sex; all the while 
massaging my little girl's body, and trying to ease her needs.
     It obviously wasn't enough.  I looked over at Marin, and she 
just shrugged.  Thankfully, my wife wasn't wearing that same 
goofy grin she had earlier.  She knew, and I knew what I would 
have to do ... So I did it.
     Leaning my little girl back, I spread her legs and moved my 
head in between them.  Sandy seemed completely out of it; just 
lying there, writhing and pleading for what she didn't know yet.
     A shock went through her body, the first time my tongue 
touched her between the legs; then the child's hands grabbed hold 
of my hair, almost tearing out chunks as I swabbed the sensitive 
lips of the little girl's sex.  I was quite used to this sort of 
mistreatment of my hair by my wife, who has even stronger hands; 
so I ignored it.  Hair (unless you're sick) is stronger than most 
people realize.  Some girls in circuses have been known to be 
pulled up to trapezes by their ponytails, as part of the act.  
Just don't put ALL the pressure on a few hairs at time.
     For a bit, I deliberately ignored the child's little diamond 
of a clit; now swollen and sticking out farther than I would have 
thought it could.  Early in the game, you want avoid a woman's 
clitoris; as it's too sensitive.  Only when she's in the throes 
of striving for orgasm should you attack it; as by then even 
excesses of pain and overstimulation can translate into pleasure.
     Sandy was now mewling constantly, "Oh Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," 
as she thrust her little hips up at me; bruising her groin 
against my nose; while almost forcing me to stop from the pain of 
her pubic bone smashing into my proboscis.  Thankfully, I was 
able to turn my head a little, while still administering to the 
child's sex.
     Sandy was much too little to take an adult cock like mine 
inside her; but that didn't mean something smaller wouldn't help 
the child.  So I tentatively took the little finger of my right 
hand and tried putting just the tip inside her wet and ready sex, 
while I did the main stimulation outside.
     That was a mistake.  Feeling something actually probing 
INSIDE her for the first time, caused Sandy to jerk forward 
involuntarily; burying my finger to the hilt in the child's sex.  
God, was she hot, wet, and slippery inside.  That slippery, it 
was no wonder my finger went all the way into her body without 
stopping.  Once inside however, Sandy involuntarily clamped down 
on the invading digit, until I couldn't pull it out if I tried.  
"Oh, oh, OOOOOH!" she moaned, pulling even harder at my hair; 
trying to force my head into her crotch, just like my finger was 
embedded in her belly.  "Please, Daddy," she moaned.
     I figured now was the time; so moving my tongue from her 
tight little hole (where my finger was already doing yeoman duty) 
I switched my attention to the little girl's clit and swabbed it.


                                7


     Sandy screeched; then pulled me into herself even tighter.  
The child's cunny cramped around my invading finger; making me 
wonder involuntarily and nastily just how good it would feel to 
have that incredibly tight little hole squeezing and cramping 
around my swollen prick, instead of my little finger.  Once again 
I ignored the "little head"; while trying my best to get the 
child off.
     Only Sandy didn't climax.  I guess at that age, you can't.  
Still, she must have gotten some kind of relief; as after an 
incredibly frantic minute or two her thrusts, cries, and urgent 
stabs with her hips slowly eased; and she finally pushed my head 
away from her body.
     I looked up, and found my other hand had been involuntarily 
rubbing the child's heaving chest ... and my wife's hands had 
been helping me ease our little girl's first erotic experience.  
It was with some difficulty that I eased my little finger from 
our daughter's hole; as once her need was over, she wasn't so 
slippery inside, and her body seemed to want to cling to the 
invading digit, as if to keep it inside her forever.
     NOW, I figured was the time to browbeat my wife into telling 
me just how our "innocent" little girl seemed to know so much 
about my fantasies ... and in particular about the books I kept 
over the head of the bed.
     Only pants and moans rising from the other side of the bed 
of, "Please, Don, Please?" let me know that there was still one 
person remaining in the room who liked sex, NEEDED sex, and 
hadn't gotten any yet, after watching a porno-show that you 
couldn't see in any theater in the land, for a million dollars.
     Shit.
     Sandy squirmed over; plastering her sex-soaked body against 
mine, and looking with me over at where her mother was trying 
desperately to get off by herself.
     "Please, Daddy?" she asked; this time not for me or herself.  
"Mom looks like she really needs it."
     Oh God.  A person was NOT supposed to do things like that 
with his wife, in front of his own innocent little girl.
     "Please, Daddy?"
     What could I do?  Pleading that the kid was too innocent to 
see two adults have sex, was obviously rather pointless; 
considering what the two of us had just finished doing.  "Here, 
let me help," I told Marin; rolling over on between her legs, so 
my head would be where it could do the most good.  My prick would 
be obviously useless for quite a while after that incredible 
blow-job she had given me ... even if the subsequent sex I had 
returned should have aroused a statue.
     Many years experience let me know just what my wife liked 
and needed when having sex.  So, it didn't take long of stroking, 
poking with fingers at the right spots, and mostly working my 
tongue into the creaming wet slit that was bumping against my 
nose and mouth in increasing urgency before Marin suddenly 
grabbed my hair in a death-grip and jammed her sodden cunny in my 
face; almost giving me a fat-lip, and her bruises as her pubic 
bone mashed against my lips; banging them against my teeth as she 
fought to extract each urgent spasm of the orgasm she had been 
trying to achieve.


                                8


     Only when Marin had calmed down a bit, did I realize that 
Sandy had been helping too; massaging her mother's belly, 
tweaking one swollen bosom, and nursing on the other like she 
hadn't done since she was two years old.  It was only when my 
wife started weakly pushing us away that we both let her collapse 
in satiated release on the bed.
     "Wow," was all that I could say.
     "Yeah," agreed Sandy.  "Mom really does like it, doesn't 
she?"
     I could only shrug in agreement.
     "I think it's time for little girls to be going to bed," I 
finally managed; ignoring the tiny little twinges of resurrection 
from my overused prick.  Well, I defy anybody with a working 
penis to watch and participate in two beautiful women having 
climaxes like that, and NOT have some sort of reaction ... even 
if drained like I had been.  Thankfully, Sandy didn't notice, or 
who knows what might have happened.  Well, it was only a minor 
stiffening anyway; not a full-fledged erection.
     "Daddy!" she objected.  "Mom hasn't read me a story yet."
     I looked over at my wife who was slowly coming back to life.  
"I don't think ...," I started.
     "Please, Daddy?"
     Marin seemed to gather energy with each passing second.  
"Well, just a little," she overrode my objections.  "Then you go 
right to bed, OK?"
     "OK."  Sandy gave me a pouting, "So there," look, before 
settling down between us to hear her nightly story.
     "Now where did we leave off?" asked Marin; reaching into the 
headboard for a red and white paperback.
     "Deni was pretending she didn't like to suck cock," prompted 
the little girl.
     WHAT?!?!
     I looked closer at the fragile pulp magazine my wife was 
opening up ... "Daughter's Hot Mouth, Book-II" read the cover; 
with the picture of a man sitting on a box with a long-haired 
naked little girl between his legs, looking up at him 
expectantly.  I recognized one of the hotter books I had acquired 
years earlier, when such books were available in almost every 
bookstore in town.  "Sherry Murkin" was a really good author.
     My astonishment and some anger were overridden by Marin's 
quiet hushing motion.  "AFTER she goes to bed."
     Well, getting angry wouldn't change things now.  I waited 
until Marin got to the point (only six pages later) where Alex 
was jetting his jism into his daughter's tight little twat for 
the first time, and Sandy seemed satisfied; stifling a yawn as 
she tried to settle down to sleep in OUR bed.
     "Time for bed, Honey," I repeated; picking the child up and 
heading off for the other room.  This time Sandy didn't object.
     "'Night, Mom," she yawned sleepily; collecting a kiss on the 
way out.
     "'Night, Honey," responded Marin with a grin at the sight 
the two of us made:  A little girl in a see-through nightie 
cuddled sleepily in her father's arms.
     By the time I had tucked the little girl in bed, given her 
MY goodnight kiss, and managed to escape back into the hall, the 


                                9


feel of smooth, sexy, little girl skin and my daughter's innocent 
dishabille had given me almost another full erection.  Thankfully 
Sandy was too sleepy to notice.
     "Now what was THAT about?" I asked angrily; looking 
pointedly at the headboard where Marin had returned the offending 
book.
     "Well, it's your own fault," she told me; not backing down 
in the slightest.  (One of the many reasons I love my wife so 
much, is that when she feels she's done the right thing, she 
isn't the slightest bit hesitant in defending her views.  I'm the 
same way.)
     "So tell me about it," I finally gave up my resentment with 
a sigh.  If Marin felt it was my fault, it probably was.
     "Well," she started, "it all began a few months ago, when 
YOU forgot to stop at the library and pick up something for 
Sandy.  You KNOW how she insists on her bedtime-stories."
     I did.  I even vaguely remembered Marin being quite annoyed 
one night when I didn't stop at the library like I had promised, 
to pick up the next installment of the current tale about sailing 
that the little girl had gotten fascinated with.  I had assumed 
then (and up to now) that Marin had told the child a story of her 
own that day at naptime ... and then gone to the library herself 
the next day to pick up the next book in the series.  I was about 
to learn how wrong I was.  Sandy it seems, had gotten interested 
in something entirely different than sailing books about kids her 
age ... Books where little girls did things she hadn't even 
imagined.
     "Well," explained Marin, "I was ABOUT to read her something 
out of the paper, or possibly tell a tale about when I was 
young ... when she reached into your stash here beside the bed, 
and asked me to, 'Read this one, Mom!'."  Wouldn't you know it, 
she had pulled one of YOUR books out ... One like this, with a 
picture of a little girl on the cover that said something like 
'Daddy's Darling Daughters' or something like that.  Here, I'll 
find it," she stopped.
     I waved away the search.  "I think I know which one you 
mean," I sighed.  "So she ...."
     "Yeah, she *insisted* on having me read, 'Daddy's Book' as 
she called it; not even knowing the title; but knowing it had a 
picture of a man, a little girl like her, and you liked it.  
Well, I'll admit I TRIED to convince her that it wasn't really 
suitable for little girls ... but I'm afraid our teaching the kid 
so much has backfired a little."
     "Uh, how so?" I asked; fearing, and yet being almost certain 
what was coming.
     "Well, you know when we looked in the dictionary and 
encyclopedia to explain things to her, how those were "grown-up 
books" that she found boring; but she was welcome to have me read 
out of if she wanted?"
     I nodded; now sure what was coming.
     "And how we've never really hidden sex from her; giving her 
'The Talk' when we felt she was old enough to understand, yet 
were worried about somebody ... anybody ... like a babysitter 
maybe ... molesting her without her permission?"
     I nodded again.


                                10


     "And we told her that what mattered was if SHE wanted things 
to happen that made the difference between 'Good Touch' and 'Bad 
touch', not who did the touching, or where?"
     Another nod.
     "And then we gave her examples of 'Bad touch', being like 
that poor kid in the commercial who got pinched ... and that if 
she ever felt that way, she was to TELL us she didn't like what 
was going on, and would stop it.  Of course, we also told her 
about shots and dentists and such, where we ALL have to put up 
with some indignities we don't like ... even doctors poking 
around in some pretty private places."
     "Yeah.  but what has this to do with stories?" I asked.
     "Well, with all THAT, it got kind of hard to explain that 
THESE stories were sex-stories ... ones YOU read for pleasure, 
and that she was 'too young for'.  Like I said, it's your own 
fault!  Sandy asked me why I couldn't read them to her anyway?  
If she didn't like them, just like if she didn't like one of my 
boring 'Romance' novels I tried to read her one time, she could 
always ask me to stop.  So I did.  Honest to Gosh, I guess I 
thought it served you right."
     "Oh God," I moaned.
     "Uhuh," she replied; more with a grin than sympathy.  "Only 
instead of being bored or even grossed-out, Sandy seemed to LIKE 
these stories even BETTER than the Amazons.  So, when I finished 
THAT story, she had me start on 'The autobiography of a Flea' and 
then we've gone through about three more since."
     This time I just groaned.
     "The thing I did NOT expect," Marin finally showed some 
sympathy for me in saying, "was what Sandy's reaction to reading 
these stories was."
     "She got horny?" I prompted.
     "Uh ... Not exactly," sniggered Marin.
     "Uh ... then Wha ...?"
     "She felt sorry."
     "For herself, at not getting sex?" I prompted.
     "No ... for you."  Again Marin stifled a giggle.
     "For ME?!?!"  I felt my chin drop until it almost hit the 
floor.  "What for, by Jehosophat?"
     "For not having a little girl to fuck and suck, like all the 
men in your stories do."  Marin looked at me with a smug 
expression; just daring me to try and weasel my way out of this 
one.  "Well, you KNOW how it is, when she begs, 'Daddy, Please?'.  
I couldn't resist; and neither could you."
     Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
     I decided that the next day I was going to HAVE to have a 
little talk with Sandy about "her father's needs".  Damn.  A 
little girl like Sandy shouldn't even know about such things; let 
alone being worried if her father was sexually satisfied.  
"Needs" and wants are two separate things too.  And I certainly 
did *not* need little girls to fuck and suck to be happy.  Such 
things are just fantasies, not "needs".  Tomorrow.

     The next morning I told myself that the last thing I needed 
was to talk to Sandy, when we were both naked or in clothing that 
revealed more than it concealed ... like Sandy's cute little 


                                11


nightgown that up to now had seemed just that ... cute.  
Sometimes what would be incredibly sexy on an adult looks quite 
cute on a little girl.  At least it HAD been just cute little 
girl, until Marin and Sandy had conspired to force me to see my 
daughter not only as sexy, but as someone interested in sex.  
Then suddenly the "cute" little outfit became a siren's tease.
     I knew that more than one of my daughter's outfits was 
innocently sexy.  Only up to then I just hadn't realize how many 
of them had been picked out to show the little girl off, rather 
than just cover her body and protect it from the elements.  
Parents are *supposed* to be proud of their children ... and we 
(it seems) had somewhat innocently ourselves been putting the 
little girl on display, like a little girl wearing sexy clothing 
to a beauty-pageant.
     When Sandy first came down to breakfast that morning, I 
almost whistled through my teeth in unconscious appreciation of 
how strikingly beautiful and erotic she looked.  The child was 
innocently wearing a little black velveteen outfit that consisted 
of white blouse with black dress, skirt, and panties ... with the 
hem of the skirt almost a full *inch* above the bottom of her 
panties, so that even when Sandy stood up, you could make out the 
"camel toe" of the child's sex.  When sitting down across from me 
at the table ... Well, I could hardly eat, from the pain my hard-
on made straining against my pants.  I mean, a father just isn't 
supposed to THINK about his little girl like that ... imagining 
the tight little slit between her legs opening up to take his 
engorged prick inside ....
     Somehow I managed to fight my gaze and attention away from 
these thoughts.  Even if Sandy WAS willing, it would be years 
before the child had developed enough to take my ... I mean, a 
man-sized prick inside her tight little slit; pumping her flat 
little tummy full of inces... I mean before my daughter was big 
enough to have real sex with her boyfriend.  It was far more than 
the heat of the coffee that had me sweating before I had taken 
more than a bite or two of breakfast.
     Exactly WHAT we ate that morning I'll never remember.  I was 
too engrossed in trying to force my mind away from what lie 
underneath that sexy outfit my daughter had brought to her side 
of the table.
     "Uh, Honey," I finally managed to choke out.  Marin glanced 
my way; flashing us both a smile when she realized I was talking 
to her daughter.  Again, I flushed.  Still, what DO you call the 
little girl who had given you one of the most erotic episodes of 
your life, but something endearing?  Besides, I always HAD 
treated Sandy like a princess; and wasn't about to stop now.  
"When you finish eating," I asked, "could you change clothes into 
a different outfit, and then come see me in the den?  We have to 
talk about something."
     Sandy shrugged.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see 
Marin's quiet amusement.  "OK, Daddy," she acquiesced.  "What's 
this about, anyway?"
     "It's about last night," I verified her suspicions.  "We'll 
talk about it AFTER you change clothes."
     Sandy looked to her mother for confirmation, shrugged, and 
went back to eating, while I breathed a big sigh of relief.  At 


                                12


least I wouldn't have to talk to the child about sex, while she 
wore an outfit that was a blatant invitation to fuck.  Yeah, 
right!
     As you might guess by now, when Sandy came to find me after 
breakfast, the outfit she was wearing made the black velvet one 
look almost innocuous.  While the dress was a slight bit longer, 
it clung to the child's body; emphasizing each tiny curve.  The 
top was shaped to fit little girl, with tiny bits of padding 
where my daughter would eventually have proper breasts; seeming 
to emphasize the little girl's budding sexuality without actually 
being obvious about it.  Underneath the dress, while not obvious 
until she sat down, were flaming-red panties that somehow matched 
the off-pink dress without clashing the way you might think.  My 
wife has incredibly good taste in buying clothes ... both for 
herself *and* for our precocious little girl.  Again, you could 
see the indentation of the child's sex in the soft cloth of the 
underwear ... But this time the cloth was so thin you could 
easily see Sandy's skin right THROUGH the material.  Even in the 
padding of the crotch, you could almost imagine seeing the little 
girl's opening, stretching to take ....
     Again, I had to force myself to twist my thoughts away from 
where they were leading me.  Even if Sandy was willing, she was 
obviously WAY too young for such things ... and would be for many 
years yet.
     "Uh, Sandy," I choked, "could you find some OTHER outfit to 
wear right now.  Don't you have any pants or outfits WITH pants 
to wear?"  I figured I'd be safe that way.  One more sexy little 
dress like she was presently wearing, and I felt like I might be 
ripping the clothes off, and ravishing my little girl on the 
spot.  It's strange how having even oral sex with your daughter 
will make you aware of her in a manner that previously you never 
even thought of.
     "Oh, Daddy, do I HAVE to?" she pouted; unconsciously 
wriggling in a manner that made my already rampant prick steel-
hard.  I could see her objection; having gotten dressed twice 
already that morning.  I couldn't really insist, but ....
     "Please," I pleaded.  "Just for me, OK?"
     Sandy pouted again; then finally flashed me a big smile.  
"OK," she agreed.  "But just once more. OK?"
     "OK," I sighed.  At least pants wouldn't be the pedophile-
wet-dream that her previous two outfits were.
     Oh yeah?
     Yeah, you guessed it.  When Sandy came back THIS time, I 
almost choked and sent her back for the pink outfit with the red 
panties.  Only I HAD promised.  Somehow the child had picked out 
a summer sun-suit that included a tank-top that was barely a band 
around her chest, with some almost invisible padding to make it 
seem that the little girl had development up there that wouldn't 
be real for several years yet.  The white short pants that went 
with the outfit looked almost painted-on, with buttons in the 
front leading down to a seam that vanished INSIDE the child's 
pouting cunny-lips, in a camel-toe that was far more obvious than 
either of the two softer panties she had worn earlier.  If what 
Sandy had worn the second time was a pedophile's wet-dream, THIS 
outfit was the same dream come true, with a blatant invitation to 


                                13


FUCK, if not inspire rape.  Oh God.
     Forcing my gaze from the child's sex upward, was no defense.  
The bare midriff just emphasized my daughter's flat little tummy 
and her sexy little navel made me almost want to bury my head in 
the little girl and lick and suck the erotic indentation like I 
had once blown bloobers in her tummy before it had suddenly 
became erotic to even think about, instead of just a funny 
tickling thing a father will play with his little girl.
     Oh damn.
     Deciding that sending Sandy back for yet another change of 
clothes, in an erotic striptease and modeling session that just 
showed off how sexy the little girl could be, would be just self-
defeating, I motioned my daughter to sit down, while I mentally 
told my prick to do the same thing.
     "Uh, Sandy," I began, "you know what you did last night?"
     Sandy's face lit up like a child who had just learned about 
dessert.  "Uhuh," she beamed.  "Did you LIKE it, Daddy?"
     "Uh ... That's not quite what I wanted to talk about," I 
backpedaled.  "I understand you seem to think that I NEED sex 
that I'm not getting."
     Sandy's face fell.  "You mean you DIDN'T like it," she 
pouted; tears starting to form at the corner of one eye.  "I 
tried REAL hard, honest I did."
     "Uh ... That's not it, Honey," I tried.  Somehow I found 
myself holding half-naked little girl, while I tried to soothe 
and explain that while I DID like it when she went down on me 
like that, it wasn't something a father *needed* no matter WHAT 
the books her mother had been reading her suggested.  I guess I 
was only partly successful.
     "But Daddy," she whimpered; wiping a tear from her eyes, "I 
thought you liked it."
     "I did, but ...."
     "Then if YOU liked it, and I liked it, then why can't we do 
it again?"
     "Uh ... Sandy?  That's NOT the sort of thing a father is 
supposed to do to his daughter," I tried.
     Sandy just sniffed at what fathers are "supposed to do" with 
their daughters.  I guess Marin and I had taught the little girl 
all to well at only six years of age how little it mattered what 
Society expects people to do ... or in this case, NOT to do.
     "The girls in the stories you read, get to do it," she 
countered.
     I TRIED to explain that I wasn't like that:  I didn't have a 
*need* for little-girl-sex, and most fathers don't.  And I didn't 
plan on forcing HER into doing things like that for some 
imaginary "need" on my part, that didn't really exist.
     Sandy just sniffed; looking pointedly at my crotch, where my 
traitorous prick was almost steel-hard at all this talk about 
having sex with my own daughter.  "But you *did* like it?" she 
insisted.
     "Well, yes but ...," I tried explaining.
     "Then why not?" she asked.  "You like it.  I like it, what's 
wrong with that?"  Sandy looked almost ready to cry again.
     "Uh ... I ...."  I really didn't know WHAT to say.  I 
couldn't honestly DENY enjoying my little girl's pouting little 


                                14


lips around my swollen prick; sucking and slurping until I had 
filled my daughter's hard working little mouth with bolt after 
bolt of incestuous seed.  It HAD been one of the most incredibly 
erotic episodes of my life ... My wife's wonderful lovemaking 
sessions included.
     "Please, Daddy?" pouted Sandy; tears pooling in the corners 
of each eye.  "I'll make it feel REAL good for you this time, I 
promise."
     Oh shit.
     Over by the door, I noticed Marin fighting desperately to 
keep from sniggering.  Yeah, easy for HER to do.  She didn't have 
a little girl fighting to have sex with her, while she tried to 
be proper and not seduce the child like I was.  Only ... I was 
definitely NOT seducing Sandy.  She was seducing me with a 
success that I would have thought impossible, two days earlier.
     "Daddy Please?"
     I'm sorry, but I lost.  "OK," I said; giving in and 
expecting to have to face yet another incredible sexcapade that 
evening at bedtime, like I had the previous night.
     Only Sandy didn't think of things that way.  Little girls 
seldom look much further away than the present; which is why 
parents are SUPPOSED to do such thinking for them.  Only in this 
case, my prick seemed to have been doing my thinking for me.  
With a hug, a kiss, and a jump of joy, I suddenly found myself 
with a little girl wrapped around me.  "Thanks, Daddy!" she told 
me with another hug and big grin.  It's amazing how kids can go 
from one extreme of emotion to another in just seconds.  "I'll 
make it feel REAL good for you this time, I promise," she said.
     Before I could even start to object, Sandy was already 
reaching for my belt-buckle, while I steadied her head in my 
hands ... almost like that picture on the cover of the book Marin 
had read the little girl last night, except that Sandy was still 
wearing the tight little sun-suit instead of being naked.
     "Uh ... You don't Have to ...."  I suddenly wasn't thinking 
very good.  Almost involuntarily I lifted my hips so Sandy could 
pull down my pants and briefs.  I know ... I know ... I SHOULD 
have just sat there and refused.  But I was long past refusing 
Sandy anything.
     "Oh don't be silly, Daddy.  I WANT to.  Please?"
     I'm sorry, I was done in.  I knew that from then on I just 
wouldn't be able to refuse my little girl anything ... any more 
than I was able to refuse her wonderful mother.  I knew that this 
would create problems in the future ... But the future would have 
to take care of itself.
     Yes, Sandy DID make it "feel good for me".  In only her 
second blow-job, the little girl had learned quite a lot from the 
night before.  No teeth; and using hands to help jack on my 
swollen prick soon had me gritting my teeth as the rising 
pressure in my prick almost had me exploding before she had a 
chance to get properly started.  The incredible sex-show of 
changing outfits, combined with talking to the girl ABOUT sex ... 
sex with HER ... for over a half-hour had me almost to the 
breaking point of cumming in my pants, before she even started.
     "Here it comes, Honey," I warned her.  It had been 
incredible to cum in Sandy's mouth the night before; but knew 


                                15


that it had probably just been surprise that had caught her 
unready to pull off.  THIS time I would give her a chance to 
finish me off with her hands, so it wouldn't seem so nasty to the 
child ... like it would be if I came in her mouth again.  "You'd 
better stop now," I warned her.
     Only Sandy DIDN'T stop.  With a, "Mmmm," of contentment, she 
just kept on sucking ... even harder.  Then I felt Sandy's hand 
reach down lower, grab my prick, and actually start jacking me 
off into her mouth!
     "Mmmmeee, Mdyee?" she pleaded; not taking her mouth from my 
prick.  The actual words, "Please, Daddy?" being somewhat 
smothered and muffled by my swollen penis.
     "Oh ... OH ... Ohhhhh!"  With sudden grunts and heaves, I 
found my hands entangled in Sandy's hair; almost grabbing it out, 
while my pelvis jerked and incredible gobs of semen rippled 
thought the tube on the bottom of my prick and into my daughter's 
hardworking little mouth.  I hadn't intended this to happen 
again.  Heck, even when I had finally agreed to let Sandy 
continue sucking me off, I had EXPECTED it to be only at 
bedtime ... when she might grow bored with it, or (hopefully) 
even forget about having sex with her father, if Marin and I 
didn't remind her about it.  I really hadn't expected the child 
to give me a blow-job, almost fully dressed, in the middle of the 
day.  And this was no ordinary blow-job, either.  With jerks and 
grunts I emptied my prostate into my little girl's mouth in an 
erotic display of incestuous sex that would melt a movie-camera 
if one had happened to be trained on the two of us.
     This time, not a drop escaped to make a mess of my crotch.  
Sandy continued pumping with her hands until no more semen was 
forthcoming; then pulled off and milked and squeezed one final 
drop out of the tip of my prick before licking that off too, with 
one final, "Mmmm," of satisfaction ... as if my semen was the 
most delicious of candies or ice-cream
     THEN, to my complete stupefaction, Sandy just stood up, 
licked her lips with an incredibly beaming smile, said, "Thanks, 
Daddy," and left the room to go out and play!
     Marin and I just looked at each other, before I finally got 
embarrassed at sitting there with my pants down, while she was 
completely dressed.  I decided that getting my pants back on was 
a fairly high order of business ... Before Marin decided to "take 
things into her own hands", like my little girl just had.  My 
wife is almost as horny (if not more so) as I am.
     "Well," she finally giggled, "I guess you showed HER who was 
boss around here, didn't you?"  Marin looked pointedly at where I 
was fighting to get my prick back into my pants.
     Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
     Then I finally gave in to the humor of the situation; and 
joined my wife in a fit of giggles.  "Yes," I agreed, "I guess we 
all know who's boss around here ... Old King Prick."  Well, it 
was either laugh or cry.  I still couldn't believe my little girl 
would give me such an incredible blow-job, and then walk out to 
play as if sucking her daddy off and swallowing his cum was just 
another "fun" thing to do ... like playing on swings.
     Somehow I knew life would never be the same.  Better or 
worse; but never the same.  Still, I was complaining?  How many 


                                16


men do you think would just LOVE to have their little girl 
begging to suck them off with their eyes just pleading, "Daddy, 
Please?"
     Well, I HOPED things might just taper off, now that Sandy 
"had a taste of sex".   <Giggle.>  Sorry, I just can't help it.  
I figured maybe she would lose interest.  Fat chance.
     Ok ... So she didn't chase me around like a horny dog with 
the hots for a female in heat.  In fact, that night, she didn't 
do anything ... sexual, that is.  So I HOPED that was it.  Like I 
said though, fat chance.  The next morning I woke up to the 
wonderful sensation of fat prick being massaged by soft warm and 
wet ... something.  That "something", of course, was my 
daughter's mouth.  How did SHE know that one of my favorite 
fantasies was to wake up in the morning either fucking or being 
blown by a little girl.  (HEY!  A guy doesn't really have ANY 
control over what his dreams are.  Only reality; and I never 
figured to EVER make that one real.)  It was way too late to 
object; and by the time I fully realized it was Sandy giving me 
the blow-job of my life, I was almost cumming.  Almost.  I held 
back as long as I could; but it probably wasn't more than two 
minutes later that I felt a powerful urge to ejaculate.  At first 
I was going to warn Sandy that I was cumming ... But then I had 
second-thoughts.  In the first place, she had never objected to 
my cumming in her mouth before.  Objected?  Heck, the little girl 
had darn well INSISTED I cum in her.  In the second, maybe if I 
DID cum without warning her, she would be a little turned-off by 
the action; and thus less likely to keep on repeating it.  No, I 
didn't want to make Sandy dislike sex ... I only wanted to try 
and prevent her from growing up getting that sex from ME.  While 
the whole thing was an almost adolescent fantasy ... having your 
own six year old little girl chasing you around for constant 
sex ... It was almost scary as to what the future consequences 
might be ... both to me, and to her.
     While I suppose I might do OK in prison for having 
consensual sex with a pre-teen, Sandy herself might come to 
regret ever getting involved sexually with me ... and might blame 
me later in life for "ruining" her life by doing so.  Not that it 
SEEMED like that would happen.  Still, you hear some pretty 
gruesome horror stories about little girls who were molested as 
children, growing up to be some pretty bitter adults.  Of course, 
those were mainly cases where the adult forced himself on the 
child, or at least pressured the younger person into having sex.  
But if anybody was being pressured into sex here, it was ME, not 
Sandy!  I really don't recall any case where a kid had completely 
consensual sex with an adult, that ended up as bad as those 
stories ... Though the way some people tell it, it CANNOT be 
good.  I dunno.  Maybe I've been brainwashed like the rest of the 
people in our society.  I do recall some stories (like in French 
Polynesia, before the missionaries arrived) where children had 
sex all the time, and never had any problems with it.  Or some 
tribes in Africa, where the boys (young men actually) were not 
only allowed, but ENCOURAGED to have sex with prepubescent young 
girls, until they became "men", and were required to take a wife 
and start a family.  Or some other people, somewhere, I can't 
remember, who had older people ... sometimes parents, sometimes 


                                17


aunts or uncles, or sometimes grandparents, teach the young kids 
about sex ... the "proper" way ... by having sex with them.  
Again, in none of those cases did the younger people ever turn 
out bad, bitter, or warped because they started having sex young.  
Perhaps I was worrying too much.  On the other hand, this was my 
daughter SANDY, that might be hurt.  I couldn't take the chance 
with her, now could I?  Shit.  Still, from the look of things, 
I'd probably hurt Sandy MORE right now by refusing her advances, 
than by having full vaginal intercourse with her ... or even 
getting her pregnant with my (our) baby!  Thank goodness she 
wasn't trying for something like THAT!  <Whew!>  And my crazy 
wife wasn't a bit of help, either, damnit!
     OK ... So I did it.  I came in my little girl's mouth.  Came 
in big gobbets and almost buckets of cum; frantically emptying my 
aching prostate into my daughter ... if not in her vagina where 
it belonged, definitely into her body, by way of her mouth.  
Sandy just let out a gulp and a sneeze; spraying a little cum out 
her nose, then gulped manfully as she worked to swallow every 
drop of cum I had to offer.  I was barely aware of Marin offering 
Sandy a Kleenex, as I jerked and squirted out of control in her 
daughter.
     After it was over, Sandy solemnly wiped her nose and eyes, 
before saying, "Thanks, Daddy," and heading off into her room to 
get dressed for the day.  Yes, she had been completely naked the 
whole time; and I hadn't even noticed until I ejaculated in her 
eager young mouth!
     Over the next three days, things settled down into a 
pattern.  Usually about one night out of three, Sandy would come 
into our bedroom and suck me off, then ask for "her turn", and 
get eaten to a screaming orgasm.  Almost every morning however, 
I'd either wake up to Sandy sucking me off, or be woken up when 
she climbed into bed with me.  Rarely did she ask me to return 
the favor in the mornings, for some reason.
     The NEXT stage started about a week after the first time 
Sandy sucked me off ... and I never even realized it at the time.  
In fact, it was several months later ... But I'm getting ahead of 
myself.  Like I said, about a week later, I was out at the local 
pizza place, picking up subs for dinner.  Yeah, the local pizza 
place also made some very GOOD submarine sandwiches.  It was 
small, and locally owned, not one of the big chains.  "Pizza and 
Subs", said the sign.  We all liked both; and THAT night I just 
stopped in to surprise the wife so she wouldn't have to cook; as 
we ALL liked subs (and pizza too).
     Ever see those little cork bulletin-boards they have in 
small shops and restaurants?  The owners let local people post 
notices there.  It helps their customers, and helps their 
business at the same time.  Well, often while picking up 
something and having to wait, I like to look over the local ads.  
Usually they're mainly of overpriced cars, used boats, lost dogs, 
and sometimes babysitting ... with often multiple copies of 
phone-numbers attached for people to tear off.
     With a young daughter of only six years old, we still had 
occasional need of a babysitter.  We didn't figure Sandy would be 
old enough to stay alone until she was at least ten ... and maybe 
older.  Still, at the moment we didn't need another babysitter, 


                                18


as we already HAD two, and a third who would usually be available 
if one of the first two weren't.  But I still LOOKED at the 
babysitter ads.
     This one got me.  It read:

     Need a good babysitter?
     I am all most 13 years old
     and good with kids and babies.
     Call Samantha Martins
     1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1
     2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2
     3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3

     (I'm NOT including her real phone-number; just 123 as an 
example.)  At first, I had a giggle at the common grammatical 
mistake of making "almost" into two words.  Then a second giggle, 
as it occurred to me that you really couldn't expect much better 
from a 13-year-old.
     THIRTEEN?  It was then I noticed the NAME at the bottom ... 
Samantha is my NIECE!  Well ... OK, niece through marriage.  
She's the daughter of my wife's sister; and is barely a month 
past her 12th birthday, if that.  Thinking about it:  We helped 
celebrate Sam's birthday not three weeks earlier.  "Almost 13" 
indeed!  <Big grin.>
     Still Sam ... Uh, Samantha WAS good with kids, for all her 
young age.  I knew she often watched over her parents' brood of 
five younger children, when they went out.  I'd keep it in mind.
     Now I don't want you to think I was having daydreams about 
taking my big prick and shoving it up that little girl's tight 
little cunny, and filling her baby-hole full of thick sticky 
cream ... at least not THEN, anyway.  Honestly!  All I was 
thinking about was mainly amusement of a little 
12-almost-13-year-old girl babysitting kids almost as old as she 
was.  Any erotic thoughts she MIGHT have given me, were ones I 
involuntarily had several months earlier, when I first noticed 
the kid was developing into a young woman ... with bumps on her 
front and everything!  Then I squelched such thoughts, as I 
realized she was just my niece ... a kid I had dandled on my knee 
when she was Sandy's age.  So, I filed away Samantha's new 
attempt at making money in the back of my mind, and forgot about 
it ... except for sharing a giggle with my wife that night about 
Samantha being "all most 13".  <Giggle!>  Sorry, I just can't 
help myself.
     Yeah ... I know ... You can all smell what's coming.  But to 
be honest, I didn't.  If I HAD, you can bet I would have arranged 
something else.  Like I said though, I put that in the back of my 
mind and forgot about it.
     In the meantime, life with my wife and kid had settled into 
a routine that's hard to describe without getting the urge to 
jack off or have sex with whatever female is handy.  By the time 
a week was gone since that first seduction, I was getting more 
sex every day than I'd ever gotten before.  Even when Marin and I 
had been on our honeymoon, we rarely "did it" more than two or 
three times a day; while with Sandy around, that was just the 
start!


                                19


     Like I said previously, I'd wake up every morning to Sandy 
either sucking me off, or getting ready to.  Every few nights, 
she'd repeat that first sexual attack; except that the girl got 
even MORE vocal and demanding when it was "her turn" to get 
eaten.  It's lucky our house isn't close to others, or somebody 
would swear we were beating the child every other night or so.  
But that wasn't all.  During the day, sometimes two or three 
times, sometimes only once, Sandy would walk into whatever room I 
was in and beg, "Daddy, Please?" and I would be lost.  Sometimes 
she just wanted me to lick her slick little puss, and sometimes 
she just wanted to suck me off, but usually it would be both; 
with me either starting by eating the little girl to an orgasm, 
and ending with my prick belching thick gobs of cum down her 
throat ... or vice-versa, with her sucking me off, and then me 
eating the girl to a ear-splitting orgasm.  While at first I had 
found it hard to believe that a 6-year-old COULD have orgasms; 
doing it almost constantly with Sandy would make a believer out 
of anybody.
     But that's not all.  You remember, I'm still married to 
Marin?  Uhuh.  Yep, my wife, from watching me having almost 
constant sex during the day with her daughter, caught the fever 
herself, and demanded almost equal share!
     Oh ... NOW you see it.  Well, for sure *I* never saw it 
coming.  Still, I guess it WAS a pretty erotic sight to see an 
adult man being sucked off by a little first-grader, let alone 
your own daughter ... and then being brought to an almost earth-
shattering orgasm by the man ... who is your own husband and 
father of the little girl.
     Well, you might expect that after having sex two or three 
times a day with Sandy, that I had little left over for my 
oversexed wife ... Only you'd be wrong.  It seems that the more 
sex I got, the more I wanted.  Not only THAT, but making it with 
TWO women, got me more aroused than any one female ever could.  I 
suspect it's something like that, that allows some men to service 
a harem.  I believe it's called, "The Coolidge Effect," from an 
old joke about "Silent Cal", Calvin Coolidge.  The more females 
available to a male, the more sex he is capable of.
     So, for the next several months I was getting more sex from 
my wife and daughter than most men ever DREAM about getting ... 
and (believe it or not) was ready and felt able to do even more.  
That the "sex" I was getting from Sandy was only oral-sex, didn't 
bother me at all; as my wife wanted mainly vaginal sex and almost 
nothing else.  Oh, SOMETIMES we'd 69, or even once-in-a-while do 
it anally, but mostly it was hot missionary-style sex on the bed, 
doggy-fashion in the shower, a "quickie" on the stairs, and 
snuggled up "spoon-fashion" at night.
     I could barely get a hard-on, without either Sandy noticing, 
and coming over with pleading eyes, begging, "Please Daddy?" or 
her mother catching me with a rise and hauling my ass off to the 
nearest horizontal (or not-so horizontal) surface for a good bout 
of good old nasty sex.  More and more ... yet I found myself 
wanting more yet.
     Well ... It was about 6 months later, a couple months before 
Sandy's 7th birthday that my daughter's obsession with my "needs" 
came to a head.


                                20


     Here I had HOPED the little girl would eventually get tired 
of these "adult games" she was playing; since she didn't have an 
adult's reasons for wanting to play them.  Especially something 
that most girls her age would view as "nasty", "wicked", or just 
plain disgusting ... sucking her own father's cock ... the thing 
that he PEED out of, until he came in thick sticky squirts of 
gooey cum in her mouth.
     But (to Marin's considerable amusement) I figured without my 
daughter's single-mindedness and determination to finish what she 
started.  I also forgot that there was some positive-feedback in 
the deal for Sandy, as well.  Not only did my daughter enjoy the 
process of making ME feel good ... but she got her jollies too.  
Like I said before, it was almost impossible to resist the little 
scamp when she'd approach me, lift up her short little dress, and 
beg, "Please, Daddy?" in that tone that only little girls can do 
so well.  Yes, Sandy wanted (and got) HER little cunny licked, 
tickled, stimulated, and probed, almost as often as I got my 
prick stroked, licked, titillated, and sucked.  Also, almost as 
often as I would find my daughter sucking me off in the morning 
without even hinting that she wanted reciprocal favors, Sandy 
would come by in the afternoon, lifting her dress and begging for 
the licking and loving she desired ... without first getting me 
off, or often even offering to afterwards ... unless of course, 
she happened to notice how swollen and stiff I got while tending 
to her needs.
     To further keep Sandy from losing interest in sex, fellating 
her father, and other things I didn't even like to think 
about ... and hoped were far in the future, I could sense a 
steady progression through my private "library" ... first of the 
books on my bed, and then through those buried in boxes down in 
the basement.  The matter, method, and comments Sandy made while 
sucking her daddy (me) off in the mornings (afternoons, and 
evenings too) were sometimes hair-raising in their implications 
about the "needs" of older men like me to have sex with young 
girls, and the usually gratifying and wonderful results to both 
father and child of having such sex ... even through and past 
puberty, with all that implies.
     Well ... I never SAID the stories I read were exactly 
unbiased!  In fact, many of the stories made it seem that having 
sex with little girls was not only FUN and NICE for an older man 
like me, but something quite desirable for the child too.  Even 
(in some of the rarer books or printouts from stories I 
downloaded from computer sites) things like pregnancy and multi-
generational incest, with fathers marrying daughters, 
granddaughters, nieces, and sisters too, seeming to be touted as 
not only sane and desirable, but a disappointment, neglect, or 
even abuse if the older man and his younger female partner did 
NOT have sex ... and eventually even babies.
     Luckily, I was able to stall Sandy on THAT matter, as she 
was not only FAR too young to even think about such things as 
periods, ovulation, and pregnancy, but was still way too young to 
even fuck yet.  My prick, while not really oversized, WAS an 
adult-sized item, and way too big to fit inside a little girl 
like her ... all the stories to the contrary.  It would probably 
be two or three YEARS before I even got the head inside her, for 


                                21


all of Sandy's eagerness to try.  As for pregnancy ... Well, we'd 
worry about THAT, when Sandy started ovulating.  Even once we 
started fucking (and I had NO doubts that the little girl fully 
planned on having complete vaginal intercourse with me as soon as 
my prick would physically FIT inside her) it would be at least a 
couple years before her panties got tight.  Before then I could 
start using a condom, or with Marin's help we could get the child 
on the pill or something.
     While at first, the thought of taking a 10-year-old or even 
younger down to the doctor to get a prescription for birth-
control was enough to raise the hackles on my arm; thinking the 
problem through gave me an obvious solution:  Since Marin seemed 
determined to NOT support me in stopping Sandy in her quest to 
learn sex as early and completely as possible, then I could 
certainly press HER into helping Sandy and I avoid the problems 
that a pregnant preteen would cause.  I certainly wasn't about to 
get force Sandy into carrying my baby, just because the very 
thought was so erotic as to make my prick ache for hours, every 
time our daughter made some comment about, "Daddy's Baby," that 
let me know she had been reading yet another of those damned 
stories that I SHOULD have disposed of when my wife had asked me.
     Well, it was WAY too late to put THAT cat back into the bag.
     As you might guess, two or three times (or probably several 
more) in the next few months, whenever she got the chance, Sandy 
TRIED to get my prick inside her.  Once, by straining and 
squeezing the head FIRST, she actually managed to get the tip 
inside her ... where I could tell it was very uncomfortable for 
the little girl.  Not painful, but not very nice either.  That 
kept me from cumming inside her; which I guess also relieved me 
from doing more.  However, at least twice in that same period I 
actually DID ejaculate my sperm in the little girl ... where it 
belonged, right up inside her tight little slit, when she managed 
to hold me up against herself and jack me off with slippery 
little fingers before I could stop myself from cumming.  God, did 
that feel GOOD.  But I never even hinted about how much I enjoyed 
actually squirting inside her, or Sandy would probably have 
insisted I do so all the time.  God, it's hard fighting both 
yourself AND your wife AND your overeager (and possibly 
oversexed) little girl.
     I can't say that I didn't enjoy it either.  I WANTED to ... 
But I'm not a liar and hypocrite; especially not to my daughter 
or wife.  I did enjoy every bit of it; from the almost daily 
blow-jobs, to the jacking off IN her, to the incredibly sexy 
"chore" of licking my little girl's sweet little cunny until she 
gasped and clutched my hair, and got her soft release.  I'm not 
SURE in those days if Sandy ever had a real orgasm or not; but 
she DID get release of some kind.
     And that release and pleasure almost ensured that Sandy 
would be back for more ... both the next day, and the days and 
weeks after that.  It seemed I was trapped into something I had 
previously only dreamed about; and that to most "normal" men 
might seem like a nightmare.  Or ... Perhaps not.  Perhaps most 
"normal" men ALSO have dreams about having sex with little 
girls ... or even their own daughters.  It's certainly not 
something any man in this society would admit to, though.


                                22


     This situation kept getting more and more intense as the 
weeks and moths went by; with Sandy trying more and more 
desperately to get my penis inside her ... and succeeding about 
as well as getting a marshmallow inside a keyhole (as somebody 
said in a story once).  She seemed so disappointed at not being 
able to, "Take care of Daddy the PROPER way, with him squirting 
thick gobs of baby-juice up inside her developing fertility," the 
way the stories all seemed to imply that girls even three and 
four years old sometimes did.  Well ... Perhaps they did, if the 
man was hung like a 10-year-old boy.  But not if he had a proper-
sized penis for a man ... at least 6 inches long, and bigger 
around than a broom-handle.
     I never really appreciated Sandy's concern for "my needs"; 
because as far as I was concerned, I didn't have them!  I was 
already getting far more sex from both Sandy AND my lovely wife 
than most men ever dream of in fantasies of having a harem!  Sex, 
both giving and getting, two, three, and sometimes FOUR times a 
day, with both my loving and lovely wife, AND my horny and ever-
eager-to-experiment-with-sex, little girl.  What more COULD I 
want?  A lot more, according to Sandy.  You have to remember what 
books she was reading (or having read to her each night, by my 
somewhat traitorous wife).  Still, I couldn't complain about the 
results, could I?
     Well ... It's been leading up to this for QUITE a while:  As 
most of you readers have already guessed, things came to a head 
one night when we needed a babysitter.  Marin and I had planned 
for MONTHS to go out to dinner and show at a local playhouse that 
specialized in serving gourmet food, while putting on very good 
plays.  Plays ... You know, like, "The sound of Music", or, "The 
Music Man", or "Oklahoma"?  It was the second one that was 
playing that Thursday, when Marin's mother called and said she 
couldn't watch Sandy that night, because the water-heater had 
broken, and she HAD to be there for the plumber, while her 
husband (my father-in-law) was at work.  He works nights.  Damn.
     Well ... YOU can all see where this is leading; but I'll be 
damned if I did.  I called and called; then Marin called and 
called ... but nobody was available as a babysitter on two hours 
notice.  Except Samantha.
     It was only when I had exhausted everybody else that I even 
REMEMBERED Marin's niece.  Even then, I wouldn't have picked her, 
at only 12 years old (OK, "all most 13").  Still, 13 was "all 
most" twice Sandy's age; and Samantha MUST be fairly good with 
kids, or her parents wouldn't let her go out like that.
     Once I suggested it to Marin, there was some frantic calling 
by my wife, some mad rescheduling, and retuning our reservations 
for the show ... but we DID make it out of the house to our 
anniversary celebration, after all.
     Yes, the dinner and show was every BIT as good as we had not 
only expected, but hoped.  A great time was had by all.  ("Yes, 
my friends, we got trouble ... trouble ... trouble, right here in 
River City.  Trouble, with a capital 'T', and that rhymes with 
'P', and that stand for POOL!")  I loved it, and so did Marin.
     When we got home, at slightly past midnight, we found Sandy 
asleep properly in bed ... and one incredibly limp and sleeping 
little 12-year-old lying on the couch with the TV hissing snow; 


                                23


as the TV station had gone off the air.
     I picked up the girl, carried her into Sandy's bedroom, 
where Marin undressed the sleeping child and slid her into join 
OUR daughter.  No, I did NOT see the child naked; and we had 
already pre-arranged to have Samantha stay overnight at least 
(and possibly longer over the weekend).  Marin rarely got to see 
her sister's kids; and this seemed like a nice occasion to visit 
a little.  Besides, the two cousins got along a lot better than 
you might expect, considering the fair difference in their ages.
     Yes, I'll admit I DID notice what a fine looking young woman 
Samantha was developing into.  I couldn't HELP it, when carrying 
her off to bed like that.  But I did NOT "cop a feel" of her, 
even though I'm sure I COULD have touched both her bare legs and 
budding titties without the child even being aware of it.  But I 
would have ... been aware.  No matter WHAT you think, I'm NOT a 
pervert out to seduce my own minor kinfolk, no matter how much 
the idea of having sex with a young girl approximately Sam's age 
turns me on.  OK ... I WILL admit that just feeling the child's 
bare legs against my arm when I picked her up and carried her off 
to bed, DID feel extremely erotic.  SO erotic in fact, that I 
insisted on having my wife undress the child and put her to 
bed ... instead of doing it myself like I had originally planned.
     All that night though, I had dreams.  Dreams, you can't be 
held accountable for, can you?  Yes, I'll admit it:  I had dreams 
about having sex with my own niece ... OK, niece-by-marriage.  
Whatever.  I can't remember ALL of it; only that it involved not 
oral sex (like with Sandy) but full vaginal intercourse, with me 
unrestrictedly blowing great gobs of incestuous seed into the 
child's womb, over and over again, until her belly ... Well ... 
OK ... perhaps SOME erotic dreams go a little too far.  It was 
completely unrealistic; but damned if it wasn't as horny as Hell.  
Is it any wonder I woke up with a hard-on to end all hard-ons?
     Of course, I had forgotten about Sandy and her penchant for 
"Taking care of Daddy" in the mornings especially ... especially 
when I had a "morning wood" from a wet-dream the night before.  
In our hurry to get off that night, neither Marin nor I had even 
thought to say anything to Sandy about what to do ... or more 
importantly NOT to do or say to her cousin.
     So ... When I woke up that morning to the (by then rather 
"normal") feeling of Sandy's lips surrounding my swollen penis, I 
just relaxed to the pleasure she was so good at giving by then.  
It was only when I heard my daughter say, "See?  I TOLD you Daddy 
needed it.  Now you try it," that I realized things might get a 
little sticky.
