Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Archive name: holidays (M/g, Ped, Inc) Authors name: Fitfully Yours(fitfully_yours@hotmail.com) Story title: Holidays At The In-laws by Fitfully Yours ------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author (C) 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. ------------------------------------------------------- Author's Note If you are not old enough to read stories describing sexual activity, go away. If you are not allowed, legal or otherwise, to read stories describing sexual activity, get lost. If you are morally offended about stories concerning consensual sex between an adult and a child, pick a different story. If you are ignorant enough to think any part of this story is in any way, shape, or form, non-fiction, get lost. If you think this story is a good thing to do in real life, go kill yourself. As an author, I appreciate any kind of constructive feedback for my work. I do not write for profit, so the only payment I get is knowing what my readers think. -------------------------------------------------------- Holidays At The In-laws By Fitfully Yours Everyone always talks about how bad it is spending a lot of time at the in-laws, especially if they live out of state. Well, I'm no exception. This all happened five years or so before my divorce, around July Fourth. My ex-wife's family lived in the middle of nowhere (at least to me - growing up in New York, and being a high school teacher in Dallas, Texas, anything smaller seemed like a suburb) in a town outside Cadillac, MI. Unfortunately, there was no place to stay when we visited, and it wasn't work the expense to visit for a day and then fly out, so any visit Mary and I made was stretched for at least a couple weeks. Christmas turned into Christmas and two weeks after New Year, Fourth of July into the entire month, etc. You get the picture. That wouldn't be too bad, but the house only had so many bedrooms, and once those were full, the only place to sleep was the futon in the living room. Of course, since we lived farthest away, we usually got the futon. This year was no different. We arrived (early, I thought) to find all her brothers (2) and sisters (7) and their spouses had arrived at "mom and dad's" before us, and all the bedrooms were taken. Not only that, though, one of the brothers and three sister had also brought their children, ranging anywhere from two to eighteen. That wasn't so bad, but I knew in the mornings, we would be rudely awakened by the patter of little and not so little feet. We set up in the living room the best we could, not wanting to put our pillows on the futon and have a bunch of dirty kids sitting their asses where our faces were supposed to be. We quickly got suckered into board games, the adults' attempt to have fun while watching the kids. It didn't work, of course. No matter what game we tried, the kids either knocked the board down or shook the table enough to make any kind of score keeping a pipe dream. I have to admit, the eighteen year old tried helping, but he was fighting a losing battle. The other teenagers would follow his lead when he was looking, but ran roughshod around him when his attention was elsewhere. We finally gave up the games as a good attempt but bad try, and ordered pizza for everyone who was old enough to eat it (there were three kids in diapers I called the toddler brigade who only ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches the entire time we were there). It was then that I noticed the "odd duck out", a little girl who had nobody her own age to hang out with. My guess was that she was six or seven, and the two closest in age were three and thirteen. She had been watching the toddlers as the teenagers had been misbehaving, pulling the toddlers out of harms way before they could get run down by the hyperactive teens. I pointed her out to Mary, and suggested we go keep her company while we ate. "Give me a break," Mary said. "I haven't seen my family in almost a year, and I have to catch up. Besides, weren't you paying attention? Sylvia was misbehaving today, and she's just moping because she's grounded." "That's Sylvia? I thought she was only just out of diapers?" "No, you jackass. You're thinking about Cybil. Sylvia is Jane's kid." Mary sighed. "If you want to sit over there, fine. Just don't complain to me when you miss something and you don't know what's going on." She turned her back and rejoined the adults at the table. I grabbed a couple of plates already adorned with a slice of pizza and brought one to Sylvia. "Hi, Sylvia. I'm Uncle Mark," I said, handing her the plate. "I know," she said. "Aunt Mary sends mommy pictures on the computer sometimes." She looked at the plate in her hand, looked at her mom, and then back at the plate. "Thank you," she muttered into the pizza, then started picking at the toppings. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Mommy and Daddy grounded me." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. How long are you grounded for?" "Well," she sighed. "We can't really go outside, cause we might get lost in the fields, and Grandma and Grandpa don't have TV, so mommy said I can't be grounded from that, so mommy said I can't go watch the fireworks tonight, and now she's really pissed cause she said she spent all her money on the big fireworks in Indiana, and now she won't be able to even see them cause I'm grounded and I can't stay by myself." I looked over at my wife, who was talking to Jane as if her life depended on it, and I started hatching an idea. I'd get the short end of the stick, but Mary might be happy, and even a fifty-fifty chance of that would make my life at the in-laws more bearable. I excused myself from Sylvia and walked over to where the other adults were finishing up the pizza. "Honey, can I talk to you for a minute?" I asked, pulling gently at her arm. "What?" she snapped. "Just for a minute, then I'll leave you alone." Grumbling, she excused herself from the table and followed me onto the balcony. "What do you want?" "I realize you haven't seen your family in almost a year, and I know Sylvia got into trouble, but I think I have a way to work it so everyone can go watch the fireworks." Curiosity replaced irritation as she looked into my eyes. "I've seen plenty of fireworks, and I brought next year's lesson plans to work on if I get bored; why don't I watch Sylvia, and even the babies? Then everyone can go watch the fireworks and no one will have to worry about the noise bothering the kids?" "I'll find out," she said, and walked back into the house. Two minutes later, Mary poked her head outside. "Mark, do you know CPR?" "Yeah, we're required to recertify before the beginning of each school year." She pulled her head back and I could hear her relaying the information. "What about infant CPR?" "They train us infant, child and adult, and in order to work at our school, I needed to pass all three." She disappeared back into the house. Five minutes later, she same strolling out, her face the picture of relaxed. "You know how to change diapers, right?" "Yeah, why?" "Cybil is out of diapers, but her mom wants her to stay here, cause we're thinking of going to the theater after the fireworks, and that would get a little late for a three year old. Chris and Dani are still in diapers, though, but Jane thinks Sylvia's still a little too young to change a boy's diaper." "That's fine," I said. "What time should the kids go to bed?" "We're going to leave around seven, and the youngest two can be put in bed then. Cybil can stay up until eight or so, and Sylvia can go to bed any time she wants. Without a TV set, I don't think that will be too late, anyway." "Don't forget, I brought the portable DVD player with us, too. Is she allowed to watch a couple of movies?" "JANE!" she yelled, and moments later, Mary's sister peered out the door. "I forgot Mark brought his portable DVD player with us; can Sylvia watch a couple movies?" "As long as they're not rated "R" or anything like that, I don't care," she said, disappearing back into the house. "Thank you, Mark," my wife said, kissing my cheek and walking back into the house. I followed her back into the house, walked to the living room, and sat down next to Sylvia again. "What did you say to them?" Sylvia asked. "One minute, mommy was all angry at me, and the next, she's smiling all over the place!" "Your mom was upset because she wants to go to the fireworks, but couldn't think of how she could go since you misbehaved. I just gave her a solution that she can agree with." The confusion on her face told me no one had told her of the solution. "I told your mom I can watch you and the three youngest kids while they go watch the fireworks." "Why would you want to do that?" "Well, I work with kids a lot. I'm a teacher, and I like to solve the problems my students have. I guess I like to make sure the next generation learns as much as they can before they head out into the grown up world, and when they get upset, I try and find ways to fix what they're upset about." The seven year old seemed to mull this over in her mind. "But aren't you missing a lot of fun just to hang out with a bunch of babies?" "Well," I said, impressed with the amount of reasoning this girl could do. "There are a lot of reasons I'm staying tonight. Mary hasn't seen you mom in a long time, so both of them going will make my wife and your mom happy. I also noticed the bigger kids were sort of ignoring you, and I thought you could use a friend. And I also thought since you are so good at watching the babies, you might impress your mom by watching them, and who knows, maybe your mom and dad will let you start babysitting." "But you still miss out on the fireworks," she said. "I understand it you watching me and the babies will make everybody else happy, but doesn't it still make you sad?" "I've seen plenty of fireworks in my life, so I don't mind. Besides, I enjoy making other people happy; when I make someone happy doing something I don't really want to do, it makes me happy to think how I am making them happy." "Oh, I see," Sylvia said, her face clearing. "Because you helped make someone else feel better, you feel better too?" "In a way, yes." "Ok, Uncle Mark," she said, and with that, she stood up, walked over to me, sat on my lap, and planted a big kiss on my cheek. "Mommy says always say thank you if someone does something for me, so Thank you, Uncle Mark." "Your welcome, sweetheart. Now, why don't you go grab yourself another piece of pizza if there's any left." Two hours later, the house was in a bustle to leave. The infants were already tucked into their bed, the bottles already washed, filled and put in the fridge with instructions on how to safely warm up the bottles, which bottles belonged to which baby (apparently one mother was breastfeeding, the other was not), poison control and emergency numbers pointed out, cell phone numbers written down; in other words, everything a parent has to go through when dealing with a new babysitter. After thirty minutes and three false starts (one for the matches, one for Billy's wallet, and then someone realized all the fireworks were in one of the other vehicles), the house was empty except for two sleeping infants, one energetic three year old, one very bored seven year old and one very tired thirty eight year old. Between false starts two and three, I had gone to the rental car and retrieved the DVD player and a stack of movies. I separated the movies the kids could and could not watch, putting all the questionable films on the kitchen countertop. I put an animated kid movie (for some reason, I like the movie Cars, so I bring it everywhere I bring the DVD player), and sat on the couch. Cybil quickly lost interest in the blocks she had been chewing on and came over to the couch and climbed on my lap. Sylvia sat at the other side of the couch and curled into a little ball, her eyes glued to the small screen. Cybil didn't last long; thirty-five minutes into the movie she slumped sideways in my arms, and I saw she was fast asleep. I carried her to the room she and her parents were sharing, and put her in the playpen that had been set up for her. I made my way back to the couch, realized Sylvia had taken my place, and walked to where she had been. Now, I have to admit, I was extremely tired at that point, but that was no excuse for falling asleep. One minute, Sylvia's eyes were glued to that little screen, and the next I thing I knew, she was screaming. "Uncle Mark! I think something's wrong with Chris!" I was instantly awake, on my feet, and running toward her voice. I turned the corner and into the room, ready for anything... ...except for what I found. Sylvia was standing in front of the changing table, Chris laying on it (cooing up at the open window), his ass covered in shit, playing with his feet. "What's wrong?" I panted. "His privates are falling out!" she wailed, pointing at his penis. Suddenly, my wife's voice rang through my head "Jane thinks Sylvia's still a little too young to change a boy's diaper", and I realized I was in as deep of shit as the kid lying on the changing table. "No, honey, that's just how boys are. That's the way it's supposed to be." I took the wipes out of her hand and scooted her back to the living room. "I'll handle this, OK?" She nodded, backing her way out of the room, her eyes not leaving her cousin's dick until she left the room. I finished cleaning Chris up, wrapped the shitty diaper and threw it in the Diaper Genie and walked out to the living room. Sylvia was sitting on the couch, balled up in the place she had been before Cybil had gone to bed, so I sat back down on the opposite side. "Sylvia?" I asked. No answer. Shit. If I couldn't get this girl to forget, or at least get over what she saw, I was going to go from the golden boy of the family to the leper by the wayside. "Sylvia?" I asked again, reaching out and touching her foot. "Honey, can we talk?" Her head poked out from under her arms, and she nodded yes. "I know you don't understand, but we need to talk about this." "Are all boys like that?" she blurted. Wow, that wasn't how I expected this to start. "Well, yes, to start with. As a boy grows up, it does change, but at that age all boys look pretty much the same." I wasn't going to go into circumcision - too much info, and all that. "Oh," she said, and then the contemplating look crossed her face again. "My daddy is a grown up boy, right? And you too?" "Yes, sweetheart. Your Daddy was a boy, and I was too. We're grown ups, now, but we used to be boys." "So you're like Chris, then? I mean, do you have one of those things, too?" I've never been one to lie, especially to a kid, but I could see the stack of lies I was going to have to tell my wife and In-Laws growing faster by the minute. "Well, it's a little different, but yes. I will answer your questions, but you cannot tell anyone, cause your parents think you're too young to know these things, ok?" "Yeah, I know my mommy and daddy can get strict about boys and girls. I won't tell anyone, I promise!" Somewhat relieved, I leaned back on the couch waiting for the questions to start, but none did and I eventually closed my eyes. Fifteen minutes later, the house phone rang. It was my wife, calling to make sure everything was going ok, and that the youngest were in bed. I assured her they were, and had barely got the words out of my mouth when I heard a bang in the background. "Oh, it looks like they're starting, I gotta go!" she said, and abruptly hung up. "Alrighty then," I muttered. "They're just getting started?" "It takes a long time to get to the firework pit," Sylvia said. She had stretched out again, no longer curled into a ball, and I noticed she had changed the Cars movie for one of those Pirates Of The Caribbean movies; not r rated, but definitely more of an adult movie than I would have picked. "Can't I please watch it?" Sylvia begged as I got up to turn it off. "What would your mother say?" "I don't know, but I like it. I'll keep this secret too, I promise!" I looked at the girl, wondering if she could actually keep this secret as well as seeing her infant cousin naked. "Ok, fine," I said, "but if it gets too scary, we'll turn it off, ok?" "Ok Uncle Mark, I will." Her eyes glued themselves back to the small screen. I was almost asleep again, when I felt her flop down on my lap. "I'll sit here in case it gets scary, OK?" "Fine, sweetheart," I murmured, drifting off to sleep. I struggled back from the pit of sleep, knowing I had to wake up, and fast, but not knowing why. I didn't hear the babies crying, and Sylvia's weight was still on my lap. I could hear the pirates fighting, so it wasn't the movie, so what was the fucking emergency? And then I felt it. There was a small hand poking and prodding at my pecker, which was half-way to erect. "Whoa there, sweetheart, what are you doing?" "You said it was different and I was wondering how it was different." Sylvia's voice didn't betray any nervousness or embarrassment in her answer. "But it's not nice to touch people there," I said. My voice didn't have the same calm as this seven year old girl. "But you said you'd answer my questions, and that was my first question." Now her voice was touched with tears. "I know I did, but I thought you'd ask with your voice, not your hands." "Ok, then I'll ask a question. Is it different cause it's bigger?" "Well, yes. There are other ways it's different, but that's just because I'm a grown up and Chris isn't." "Oh," she said. "It got bigger when I was feeling it. How does it get bigger?" I had to think a few minutes before I answered this one. "Well, when someone touches a grown up's privates, they do get bigger." "Does it hurt when it gets bigger so fast? Did I hurt you?" "No, sweetheart, you didn't hurt me. It gets bigger like that because it feels good." "But then why did you make me stop?" "Sylvia, little girls and grown up men aren't supposed to touch each other in those places. It's against the law and I could go to jail if you ever told anyone you touched me there." She sat back against my shoulder, and I thought the questions were done. She started watching the movie again, but before I could drift off again, she said something that startled me awake. "Why would you go to jail if I touched you? Wouldn't I be the one to go to jail?" "No, sweetheart. People would think I told you to do it, so please keep your promise not to tell anyone, ok?" The relief I had felt earlier was gone, and I had a sneaking suspicion this little girl was going to get me into a lot of trouble. "Don't worry, Uncle Mark. I won't tell anyone." As if to reassure me, she patted my arm, then took both of my arms and wrapped them around her slender frame. I closed my eyes, and almost drifted off again when she tucked her arm under mine, planted her hand on my recently deflated pecker (which of course reinflated with frightening speed) and said "I want to see it." "Wait a minute," I said, moving her hand. "You want what?" "Please?" Oh, great. Here I am, panicking, and she thought I was telling her to mind her manners. "Sylvia, why would you want to see it?" "I want to see what makes it different. I mean, I've felt daddy's before, and yours, but I've only seen Chris', and I want to know what makes it different." "Wait a minute, you've touched your dad's?" "Oh, yeah, all the time. When mommy starts cooking dinner, daddy has me sit on his lap, and I rub his thing through his pants until it starts jumping." "And your mommy knows this?" "No, of course not, silly. It's a daddy/daughter game, and daddy says mommy doesn't even like to hear about those games. He says that since I'm more mature than everyone else, I can play the games even if the other kids in my class can't. He says that good girls help their daddies and all the mean girls won't, and there's no way to tell the good girls from the mean girls, so I'm not supposed to tell my friends either, cause one might just be pretending to be nice." I sat there, processing the information. "Does he ever touch you between your legs?" "Sometimes, but that's usually when mommy has to run to the store. It doesn't feel good, though. Most of the time it hurts. Is that another way boys and girls are different?" My mind was still reeling as I said, "No, sweetheart. It's supposed to feel good for boys and girls." "Show me," she demanded, and forced my hand on the crotch of her jeans. My hand darted up, away from the heat radiating from under the denim material. "What are you doing?" I gasped. "I want you to show me how it feels good. Maybe that way I can teach daddy so he doesn't hurt me so much." "What?" "I said; show me how it's supposed to feel good for girls." By this time, my pecker was rock solid, twitching with every rapid beat of my heart under this girl's hand. Numbly, not able to think any more, I moved my hand down from her stomach, and cupped it over her crotch. I could feel her heat again as I slowly rubbed my fingers on the denim covering her baby pussy. "It doesn't hurt, at least," she said, "but it doesn't really feel good, either." I tried pressing down harder. "Now it's starting to hurt," she complained. "It could be your jeans," I said. "Does your dad ever do this when you don't have your clothes on?" "You mean all bare naked?" she screeched. "With Daddy?" "I take it that's a no." "Well, he did have me take my pants off once when mommy went to the store, but I guess mommy forgot something and I had to put them on really quick before she got in the house. I don't think he ever asked me to take off my pants again." She looked at me and bit her lip. "Does it feel better without pants?" I looked into her eyes, fell in love, and nodded. She jumped up from my lap, peeled her jeans off and let them drop to the floor. Sylvia turned to me, and I could see her panties had Hello Kitty on the front. "Very funny," I thought, "considering that she apparently wants me to say hello to her kitty." "Won't it feel better if you take your pants off too?" she asked. I nodded mutely, unsnapped my jeans, and lifted my hips enough to peel the jeans from under me, my pecker causing a noticeable tent in my tidy whities. Sylvia spun around, letting me see her cute little ass for just a moment before planting that ass on my lap, my pecker pressing her panties into her ass crack. "Ok, here's what daddy does," she said, grabbing my hands and placing them on her hips. "Then he just moves me around until his thingy starts shaking." she started moving her hips, in effect dry-humping herself against me. "Does this make you feel good?" I asked, totally lost in lust. "No, but daddy said if I didn't do this a lot, he could get sick." "Ok, stop a minute, sweetheart," I said, worried that my "thingy" would start shaking if she didn't. "Oh yeah, that's right! You were gonna show me how this can feel good to a girl, too!" She spread her legs, dangling them on either side of my lap, and my pecker, still confined by the underwear, rose up between her pale white legs. The credits of Pirates of The Caribbean started playing, but neither of us noticed. All of our attention was riveted on the white mountain rising between the seven year olds creamy thighs. I reached one hand between her thighs, cupping her crotch, feeling my finger nestle itself along the crease of her tiny little pussy, and the phone rang. I jumped, startled at the sudden noise, but by the time I thought to reach for the phone, Sylvia had already picked it up and pasted it to her ear. Oh, Shit! "Hello? Yeah, Uncle Mark is in the bathroom. Yeah, we're doing fine. Well, I changed Dani's diaper about two hours ago, but Uncle Mark didn't let me change Chris for some reason. Yeah, we watched Cars and Toy Story. Hold on, I think I heard the toilet flush." She buried the mouthpiece in her hand, turned around and winked. Then she said "Uncle Mark, telephone. I think its Aunt Mary." "Thank you," I said in my calmest voice. "Hello?" "Hi, Mark. We just got done with the fireworks, and everyone wants to go to the theatre. I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and see if you needed any help." "No, we're fine," I started, but she interrupted. "We can bring one of the older kids to baby-sit if you need us to." "No, I'm fine. It wouldn't be fair to exclude a teenager from the movies just to baby-sit. There isn't really anything playing right now that I want to see that badly anyway." At that point, I looked around at my situation. Here I was, sitting in my mother-in-law's house, in my underwear, with a seven year old girl, also in her underwear, with my slowly deflation pecker still standing between said seven year olds spread thighs, and talking to my wife on the phone. That thought made my pecker wilt even more, until Sylvia reached between her legs and started rubbing it. My pecker sprang back to attention, and to this day, I don't remember how the conversation to my wife actually ended. I know she said bye first, so I know she didn't suspect anything, but I was, almost literally, flying by the seat of my pants. "Ok, hands off," I said once the phone was back on the couch. "I'm supposed to be showing you how it's fun for girls, remember?" She sighed and leaned back against my chest. I slipped my hand around her waist again and gently started rubbing her pussy. "Ooh, that does feel good," she said, squirming on my lap. I had to move her onto one leg so I didn't shoot off into her ass crack. Sylvia started to moan, rocking herself on my leg, and I could feel my leg getting damp under her little body. After only a few minutes, she squeezed her legs together, almost pinching my hand off, her body tightening against mine. I stopped rubbing, not wanting her to cross from pleasure to pain. My other hand, though, went from propping us up to rest gently on her stomach. My finger found her belly button easily enough, but apparently her every orgasmic twitch made it tickle, so she moved my hand further up her body. Directly on her undeveloped chest. I could feel her tiny nipples under her shirt, and couldn't resist rubbing my fingers over them. Sylvia moaned again, pressing her chest against my hand. I slid my hand back down her front and underneath her t-shirt to feel the hard little pebbles with no cloth to interfere. "It feels even better underneath," she whispered. "It always feels better when there's no cloth in the way," I whispered back, breathing into her ear. She moaned, and I could tell she was having a mini orgasm, caused solely by her nipples being played with. I held my hand on what would eventually be her left breast, feeling as her racing heart slowed to a more normal pace. Her skin was slick and sticky with sweat, but I held her tight against me, my underwear-covered pecker still jutting between her slowly parting thighs. "You were right, Uncle Mark. It can be fun for girls too." She paused, and looked into my face. "Does everything feel better when you're bare naked?" I nodded, and she stood up in a flash, peeling off her underwear and t-shirt in fluid motions. I saw her bare ass for a quick moment before she turned, and then my breath stopped. Her long blonde hair framed her "just losing the last baby fat" face, with its blue eyes and small, smiling mouth. Her neck was slender, sloping gently to her shoulders. Her chest was flat, without a hint of the breasts that would grow in some day, her nipples light pink circles on pale skin. Her belly had a small pooch to it, another fading remnant of her baby fat, and sloped down to her bald little pussy, which gleamed in the scant light of the blue screen of the DVD player. Her legs, long and lithe, trembled slightly as she stood and looked at me. "I'm not gonna be all bare naked by myself, you know," she said, pouting. With a groan that was part urgent sexual longing, part horror at what I had been doing (and what was happening now, of course) and part helplessness at being managed so readily by a seven year old, I stood up from the couch, pulled my shirt off and stood in front of Sylvia in nothing but my tented drawers. "Are you sure you want me to take these off?" I asked my thumbs under the waist band. Instead of answering, she responded by reaching out with both hands, grabbing the waistband where my thumbs were, and yanking my underwear down to my feet. She stood up, and for the first time, saw a man's erect pecker. "Wow," she breathed. "It's a lot different than Chris." At first I thought it had intimidated her, but then she reached out and gently touched the head. "It must feel real good," she said. "Yes, sweetheart, you make it feel real good." I sat back down on the couch, and she sat back on my lap, my pecker now jutting naked from between her bare thighs. I could feel the heat and moisture from her naked pussy on the top of my pecker, and that sensation was heaven. I reached down and slid my fingers along her pussy lips, spreading her natural moisture around her undeveloped sex. I swirled the juices around until my finger found her clit, and Sylvia gasped. "Wow, that feels good!" "I'm glad it feels good. You're making me feel real good too." Her small hand was gently rubbing the head of my cock, and I was getting close to cumming when she jumped off my lap. "I know what!" she exclaimed, and ran into the bedroom that she shared with her parents. She came back out a few minutes later holding what looked like a homemade DVD. "Daddy usually watches this before we play daddy/daughter games, but I've only seen a little bit of it. He tells me he likes it, but he doesn't want me to see it." She walked over to the DVD player and put it in. "He keeps it in his country CD's, and since Mommy doesn't like country music, she never looks there." Sylvia smiled. "I don't like country either, but I saw daddy put it in there once." She walked back to me, turned around and jumped into my lap, putting her legs on either side of mine. We were sitting there, my cock jutting out in front of her bare little pussy, and the movie started. At first I couldn't understand why Sylvia's dad would like this so much. It appeared to be a home movie showing a family playing in a park. I was about to ask Sylvia to turn it off, when the scene changed. Now it showed a girl of about twelve dancing around a bedroom in a bikini. At first I thought it was going to me more of the same family activities, but then a hand reached into view, obviously the hand of the person controlling the camera - an obviously male hand. In fact, I could even see the wedding ring. The hand reached toward the dancing girl as she danced back toward the camera, snagged the tie string tying the bikini to the girl's neck, and yanked. Immediately the bikini top fell, still attached to the girl's midsection, but obviously no longer doing its job of concealing the girl's breasts. She spun around, but the angry look I expected wasn't there. "Daddy," she said, laughing, and not bothering to cover her breasts. "I was dancing." "I know, honey, but I think it's time to play our daddy/daughter game," the cameraman said, and I realized this was where Sylvia's dad had come up with the phrase. "Ok," the girl said, immediately pulling her bikini bottoms off her body. Sylvia gasped as she did that. "She just got naked in front of her daddy!" All I could do was mumble "I guess so," and reach around Sylvia's body again. My right hand found its way between her legs again, fingers tracing across her hairless little pussy lips while my left hand went to her tiny chest and started caressing her nipples. On the screen, we watched as the camera moved as if being put down, and then a man entered the screen. He walked behind the girl, reached around and started doing to the screen girl the same thing I was doing to the seven year old girl sitting naked on my lap. "Hey look, they do it too!" Sylvia said, excited. "Maybe this is where daddy learned about our game!" I couldn't answer her. All I could do was watch the movie. It went in the usual progression, from finger play to the girl giving the man a hand job (at which point Sylvia started stroking my cock in the same manner, mimicking the motions on the screen). The scene switched to another few minutes of kids playing in park, then fuzzed out to a bedroom scene, where the man had set the camera at the end of the bed, pointed directly at the girl's peach-fuzz covered pussy. Sylvia stopped what she was doing and stared at the small screen, then gasped as the man crawled between the girl's spread legs, aimed his cock at her small slit, and pressed forward until the entire shaft disappeared into the small body. "How is he doing that? Did he poke a hole in that girl?" "No, sweetheart," I said, trying to calm her down. All girls have a hole down there; he just put his privates into the hole in her privates." "Nuh-huh," she said, shaking her head. "I only got a pee hole and a poo hole." "Have you ever touched yourself down there?" "Mommy says to only touch down there when washing or wiping, anything else is naughty and dirty," she said like she was following a script. I thought for a minute before responding. "Well, we have to try and follow what mommy tells you, if you want to find your hole, you have to touch down there." The seven year old thought this over for a minute, then reached down and joined my fingers with hers. I guided her little fingers to her pussy opening, easing the tips into her body. She shuddered as her fingers invaded her body, then she hunched her hips into her hand as if trying to get more into her pussy. I ran my fingers down the back of her hand, one finger following the curve of her fingers until my finger was buried with hers in her immature body, but only as far as her small fingers had been able to penetrate. She gasped with the increased pressure, and I could feel her internal muscles clenching against my finger. She pulled her fingers out, but I left mine inside her, gently finger-fucking her through her afterglow. After a few minutes, she looked up at the movie still playing. The girl in the movie had mounted the man, who was lying on his back and videotaping the girl bouncing on his cock. "Doesn't that hurt?" "Well, the first time, I've heard it can hurt, but it's supposed to get better the more you do it." I didn't want to lie to her, but I didn't want to scare her away, either. "Did you want to try it?" Concealing the excitement in my voice, I said, "Only if you want to, sweetheart." She spun around on my lap, face to face, bare chest to bare chest, and my raging cock lined up along the neat little slit of her juvenile pussy and pointing at her belly button. "You have to lift up a little, Sylvia," I whispered in a barely heard gasp. She lifted herself onto her knees, and I reached between us and firmly grasped the shaft of my cock. I ran it along her slit, spreading her moisture and my precum until the head was well lubed. I pressed it forward, first splitting, then spreading her little pussy lips until the head of my cock disappeared into the tightest opening I had ever felt. I took my hand off my cock, grasped the girl by her slim hips, and slowly pulled her down. I watched as millimeter by millimeter my cock disappeared into Sylvia's hairless pussy until I felt her hymen stretch over the head, then snap back to size (causing Sylvia to hiss in pain a little), trapping my cock head past her hymen and the rest of my cock nestled against it. All in all I only had about two and a half inches inside the girl, but I didn't want to actually pop her cherry without knowing when the rest of the family was going to arrive. "Ok, stop here, sweetheart," I panted. "But it's not all in," she said, also winded. "It won't go any farther," I started, but she interrupted. "It's all the way inside her," she said, looking over her shoulder. The movie showed the twelve year old girl bent over a bed, her dad standing behind her and roughly ramming his cock into her pussy as hard as he could. "You're younger than she is," I said. "Don't worry, it will still feel good," I said, moving my right hand across her hip until I could reach her tiny clit with my thumb. I started rubbing her clit, reveling in the feel of her pussy muscles rippling and squeezing against my invading cock. I struggled against the urge to cum, wanting to feel the movements and motions of her muscles as I worked the seven year old through three orgasms. It was tough not to bury my cock to the root in her hot little pussy, but I managed to resist the temptation. I think the only reason I was able to resist was the belief that even if I burst past her hymen, I couldn't really get all that much farther into her little body, and would only cause her unnecessary pain. All this flashed through my head as I worked her down from her third orgasm and up to her fourth, and I could feel my own orgasm pushing past my struggling will, and she settled down a tiny bit farther on my cock. I couldn't handle it anymore. The pulsating pressure of this child's pussy had successfully replaced the feel of friction, and I was driven over the edge, still careful not to bury my cock as deep as I could go in this little girl, but losing all control of my own orgasm. Jet after jet of cum shot from the tip of my cock and painted deepest recesses of Sylvia's pussy. If she had been seventeen instead of seven, I have no doubt she would have turned up pregnant even if it hadn't been her time of the month. I held her as her final orgasm ebbed away, not wanting to let her go. Eventually my cock softened enough to fall out, releasing a torrent of cum that was, thankfully, not stained with her blood. I had somehow been able to slip past a little without actually breaking it. I lifted her up and lay her naked little body on my large naked body, loving the feel of her erect little nipples against my chest. We lay there, and I could feel my cum leaking from her baby pussy and onto my stomach, and that was when the phone rang. "Hi, honey," my wife said on the other end of the phone. "The movie just got out, and I was wondering if you wanted anything from McDonalds." "Um, sure," I said, hoping she couldn't tell something was wrong from my voice. I don't know whether or not I was convincing, or if she just couldn't tell, but in either case, she didn't ask what was wrong, and she hasn't since, either. She just kept talking about her night, and I just kept on pretending I hadn't just committed adultery with her seven year old niece. The conversation ended, and I stood up, hugging the near unconscious naked little girl tightly to my chest and brought her to the bedroom she shared with her parents. I got a rag and carefully cleaned my cum from her swollen little pussy and legs. I marveled at the complete lack of hair around her pussy. I had never seen a completely bald pussy before; completely shaved, yes, but never without even a hint of hair. After I had cleaned the cum, I couldn't resist bending over and running my tongue over her slit. Sylvia shuddered in her sleep, and I stopped, not wanting to wake her up. I found her underwear (these had Strawberry Shortcake or something on them) and her pajamas and got her dressed, being careful not to wake her, then left the room quickly. I went to the bathroom and washed my hands and cock, not wanting them to smell like little girl pussy when everyone got home, then went to the living room. I realized the kiddy porn video was still playing (different people than before; in this a skinny little blonde of about five was on her hands and knees on a bed while some fat jerk fucked her roughly from behind), and I took the DVD out of the machine and brought it to Sylvia's room. Her dad's bag was open, and she had left the CD carrier open to an empty page, so I assumed it was where the DVD belonged. Once it was back in place, I went back in the living room, and sat down for about thirty seconds before I heard the cars pull back into the drive. No one suspected what had happened between Sylvia and me, and any fears I had of Sylvia spilling the beans were laid to rest as she acted just as she had before, except now she had a friend. I have to admit, she did grope me a couple times when no one was looking, and once I was able to sneak a finger into the leg of her shorts and stroke her clit a couple times when everyone was distracted by an argument, but that was the only contact we had for the rest of that vacation. But it wasn't the last time we played; in fact, it was far from the last. I took her virginity without popping her cherry, but the next time we played, I did pop her cherry - and that's not all. Maybe someday I will tell you all about it! To be continued??? ------------------------------------------------------- As I stated at the beginning, this is entirely fiction. I write fiction, and do not believe fiction should be censored, but neither should it be followed. If you have an urge to have sex with a child, seek immediate help, or cut off your pecker. Kids need to be cherished, not ravaged, protected, not exploited. As an author, I appreciate any kind of constructive feedback for my work. I do not write for profit, so the only payment I get is knowing what my readers think. Fitfully Yours(fitfully_yours@hotmail.com)