Author: Oliver Newton Title: Sophie's Bathtime Subject: A father discovers the joy of intimacy with his young daughter Keywords: Mg, intimate bathing, incestuous thoughts ======================== Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It is a product of a fertile imagination. Under no circumstances does the author recommend or even suggest that a reader should attempt any similar behaviour or actions. Do not try this at home! ======================== It is a rare privilege for a father to bathe his daughter. I felt very strongly that Sophie was allowing me an intimacy that placed all the onus of trust on me. Should my touch become too intimate she would giggle and say 'it tickles!' and it would be expected that I should not trespass further. If I ignored her warning she would gently but firmly remove my hand to some less sensitive area. Her ticklishness varied from bathtime to bathtime so that I never really knew where the boundaries were but tended to go in search of them. On this occasion she allowed the most intimate washing of her vulva that heretofore had always proven far too ticklish to allow even an external caress, far less the gentle parting of her labia and caressing of the small protuberance of her clitoris, the sweet tight mouth of her vagina and her little pursed anus. Sophie lay with her legs wide apart and eyes closed, a slight smile and the flick of her tongue being the only sign of enjoyment. When I gently touched her clitoris she bit her lip and moved slightly as if to make herself more accessible. I told myself to stop, but didn't: it excited me too much. I began to massage her vulva, gently touching her clitoris from time to time and it was obvious now that her breathing had changed slightly. At the next pass I allowed my finger to linger at the entrance to her vagina and, very gently, probe. She took a deeper breath as my finger entered this silky little orifice but I stopped myself from going further than the first finger joint and withdrew, my heart racing alarmingly and my throat dry and constricted. I wanted to stop but Sophie's acquiescence was a greater temptation to continue. I'm not sure how long I spent gently stroking her beautiful, silky soft vulva and its pearl of a clitoris but Sophie just lay there, legs in 'frog' position, her belly rising and falling until, just as I was convincing myself that it was time to stop, her belly sucked in and she clamped her thighs on my hand, shuddered gently and then exhaled slowly. "Time to wash you hair" I croaked, withdrawing my hand from between her tightly clenched thighs and reaching for the shampoo. Sophie sat up but neither spoke nor looked at me. I felt wildly excited and at the same time tormented with guilt for having so completely enjoyed the amazing privilege Sophie had allowed me. Testing the temperature of the water I got on with the business of washing and conditioning her hair, a ritual that required my full attention and allowed me time to calm down. The second part of our bath-time hair-wash ritual since Sophie had been a baby was a massage before reading to her, but this time, as I carried her from the bathroom and laid her on the towel, I was torn again between the temptation and the guilt. But when she lay down, her legs slightly apart, the sight of her soft vulva and labial crease meant temptation won. I tend to lose myself in massage, closing my eyes and experiencing the other person through touch. It had always been like this with Sophie and it had always been an erotic experience, but never so intensely as I smoothed the lotion onto her thighs and firm buttocks, gently allowing my hand to cares her labia and slide up the crease of her bum and over her tight little anal rosebud. She murmured quietly, wriggled slightly and parted her legs just a fraction more in an unmistakable signal of invitation. My heart thumped against my chest and my throat went dry and tight as I fought a monstrous carnal urge to tear off my clothes and thrust myself on her small supine body. It brought to mind a memory from when I was about twelve of Sylvie, who was then about Sophie's age, daring me not to wear a swimsuit on the beach one summer's day a long time ago as she pulled off her tee-shirt and kicked off her shorts and stood there in her pink and white knickers pulling teasingly on the waistband. I was torn between fear of the imagined consequences of getting caught and the fear of being teased further by this girl that I so often dreamed about having sex with as I masturbated and afterwards brutally castigated myself for having had such obscene thoughts. "Don't stop!" murmured Sophie and I was brought back to my present agonisingly tempting predicament. As I massaged Sophie I thought a lot about Sylvie and that afternoon on an empty beach. If only I had known then even a fraction of what I knew now. But there was an irony in that as even now, years and much experience later, I was still being tormented by the guilt of my secret desires, which had intensified over the years. I was conscious of the straining erection in my pyjama shorts just as I had been back then though now I was fighting a desire to get naked and then I had been trying to resist Sylvie's teasing torment. When I finally got down to my underpants the state of my excitement was obvious and Sylvie's 'oh come on, let me see it' simply brought me closer to the boil so that, when I finally stepped out of my underpants and she had taken off her knickers I was dribbling a long silvery skein of precum. Sylvie had giggled and grabbed at my erection and said something appreciative like 'its lovely' whereupon the touch of her hands precipitated a violent ejaculation that spurted over her belly and chest and dribbled over her hands. Sophie murmured and sighed as I let my hand brush her inner thighs, vulva and anus and I gently asked her to turn over. She complied and said 'this is so nice' and spread her legs invitingly wide as I began to smooth the lotion into her legs and belly noting as I did that the her labia seemed to have parted slightly so that instead of the neat groove the lips were puffier and revealed the soft pink inner lips and the small protuberance of her clitoral hood. I closed my eyes and focused all my attention on gently massaging her firm smooth body, working up her legs, over her mons and belly to the tiny firm nipples and back again to her mons and the soft vulva with its pinkishly swollen lips invitingly opening, on to her rosebud anus, then along her delicious thighs to her feet and then back. But each time lingering longer and longer on the enticing softness between thighs that were now spread wide in the 'frog leg' pose that I had always assumed meant complete relaxation. Sophie's labia were widely parted, blush pink and clearly swollen, exposing the darker pink of the inner labia, the pea like protuberance of her clitoral hood and the small dark pit of her urethra with just below it the slightly puckered mouth of her vagina. I could not control myself as I kissed first one small nipple and then the other and ran my tongue down to her belly button and further on down to the mons and into the dear sweet gaping vulva. I fully expected Sophie to push me away, or even scream but instead her thighs relaxed outwards as I moved to apply my lips and tongue to her most intimate places. I had never tasted a young girl before and was surprised how freshly sweet she tasted; quite excitingly unlike the sharper more aromatic taste of a woman. I kissed and caressed with my tongue all these velvet soft places from the the lightest of tongue-tip touches on her clitoris to a probing entry of my tongue first into her rosebud anus and then, when I could control myself no longer, into her vagina itself. For quite some time I was unsure of what, if any, effects my cunnilingual efforts were having. After a gloriously long time her breathing grew deeper and shorter I sensed she was very excited but, as in so many similar previous situations, I began to become worried that I wasn't doing enough to bring her to orgasm. Since I could not ask her, I continued until my jaw ached and still there was no sign of the 'Sally moment'. So I eased a finger into her anus and kept on kissing and licking her clit and pushing my tongue as deep into her vagina as I was able until, just when I thought I'd probably done enough, she clamped my head between her thighs, arched her back, shuddered alarmingly, sighed and fell back. She watched me smokily as I slipped off the bed and stood up. "Read to me?" she suggested with a wry, sly smile. ========================= I hope you liked this little story. My email is optiskeptic[at]outlook[dot]com Any feedback will be welcomed.