This is an age-play fantasy intended for adults.  If you are 
offended by such things, the simple solution is not to read it.  
This fantasy story is in no way advocating for any actual minors 
to be involved with actual adults.
---

EMMA
---

Being a parent is hard.  Being a single parent is even harder.  
Being a single father to a young girl took all my energy and 
then some.  There are all those moments you can't prepare for 
with kids.  Your own parents and your friends who have already 
gone through this will tell you to just do your best, do what 
seems right, hope for the best.  They'll tell you you're bound 
to screw up sometimes but that if you make decisions with love 
and the best interest of your kid at heart, things will be ok.  
I want so badly to believe this is true.  I want to believe what 
happened last night was a one-time screw up but that things will 
be ok.  But deep down I know, it wasn't a screw up, it will 
happen again, and lord help me, I want it to.

Friday evening had started normally enough.  Emma running down 
the school steps after hugging a half dozen other little girls 
goodbye, her auburn hair glinting in the sunlight, and hurling 
herself into the car with a smile. She was always smiling; even 
as a little baby she always had a smile and a giggle for me.  
She handed me her report card triumphantly.

I quickly scanned it, saving the long (and likely glowing) 
comments from teachers for later.  "All A's!  Well done baby 
girl!"

She scrunched up her face at me.  "I'm 13, not a baby!"

"Ok, ok," I said, chuckling.  "Well done to my very big grown up 
girl.  What would you like for dinner to celebrate?  Pizza?  
Burgers?  Mexican?"

"Um, actually, can we try the new Indian place?  Tori said her 
parents said it was really good."

Well, this was new.  Normally Emma wanted standard kid food, but 
she was at the stage of starting to push into that transitory 
teenage time, and the new Indian place, Fazilka, had an upscale 
adult feel to it.  She had Indian a few times before, normally 
if we were visiting my sister Grace and her family.  Grace 
couldn't bear to make and eat what she considered standard bland 
American food so she'd helped expose Emma to a pretty wide 
variety of things over the years.  So, while Emma wasn't a picky 
eater thankfully, she didn't normally request anything too 
exotic.  I wasn't going to let the opportunity for something 
less kid oriented pass though, so I put the car in gear.  "Sure 
thing, Fazilka here we come!"

Emma passed the short drive by singing along to pop songs on the 
radio and telling me about various 8th grade dramas.  I loved to 
hear her voice and made the appropriate noises when prompted to 
do so to encourage her to keep on talking.

At Fazilka, we got a table and I helped her navigate the menu, 
settling on samosas, naan, and butter chicken for us to share.  
I decided to treat us both to mango lassi's as well.  She looked 
so grown up sitting across from me in a "real" restaurant, with 
a linen napkin on her lap and soft candlelight flickering across 
her features.  Her delight in the mango lassi was infectious.  I 
don't even remember now what we talked about, just the 
overwhelming joy of spending time with her, of how enchanting I 
found her.  Nothing I had feared about her becoming a teenager 
had come to pass yet.  She was polite, respectful, and didn't 
push my buttons any more often than she normally did.  As I 
watched her enjoy the food, I realized how lucky I was to have 
such a mature, intelligent, and beautiful daughter.

We lived a good half hour outside of town in the country.  Like 
she normally would if she wasn't talking up a storm, Emma fell 
asleep after 10 minutes.  I smiled at her curled up on the seat 
and turned on MSNBC to keep me company on the rest of the drive.
At home, I carried her inside, still asleep, but she woke up as 
I shut the door and wiggled down.  "Go get your pjs on and we'll 
watch the Daily Show," I said.

She scurried off to do that while I poured a glass of milk for 
her and wine for me.  This had become our tradition over the 
past year.  I recorded the Daily Show and we watched it the next 
evening while I had a drink and she had a glass of milk.  Then, 
bedtime.  She re-appeared a minute later in a nightgown and we 
headed to the couch.

Snuggled up against me under a blanket, we laughed and groaned 
at the commentary.  The guest was discussing climate change, so 
that spurred a discussion after the show that went on for 
fifteen minutes before I declared it was bedtime.  I could tell 
Emma was getting sleepy anyway because she didn't argue and went 
off to brush her teeth.  Ten minutes later I was kissing her 
goodnight and closed her door behind me.  It wasn't overly late, 
but I didn't have any work to do so I poured another glass of 
wine and went to lay down.  As usual, this was the time that 
being single came to the forefront on my mind.  Work and raising 
Emma kept me so busy that I really didn't think about not having 
a wife or girlfriend until the quiet moments.  I laid down and 
read over Emma's report card.  All her teachers raved about how 
smart she was, how kind, how mature.  I was so proud of her and 
resolved to make sure she knew that every day.

Setting aside the report card, I flipped on the TV in my bedroom 
in settled in to watch something mindless until I drifted off.  
Reality TV -click- news -click-  more reality TV -click- ooooh 
that scene in Wild Things where the two girls kiss in the pool.  
That got my attention and caused my cock to wake up a little.  
So, I did what any guy would do, I started touching myself.  
Just gently gliding my fingertips up and down the shaft at 
first, then, as the scene on TV ended, I turned that off and 
laid in the dark stroking a bit harder, a bit faster.  Not 
rushing though; drawing it out.  Eyes closed, just focusing on 
the sensations.

"Daddy?  Daddy I don't feel good."

My eyes flew open and Emma was standing right beside me looking 
sad.  I adjusted as best I could, pulling my boxers back up 
under the covers, hoping she hadn't really seen anything.  

"What's wrong babycakes?," I asked as I turned the bedside lamp 
on.

"My stomach feels bad, and I'm warm," she softly said with a 
small whimper.

Mentally thinking over what we had on hand... pepto was on the 
grocery list, we were out.  Shit.  "Maybe just lie down here for 
a minute and see how you feel sweetie?"  I was trying to buy 
time to figure out how serious her complaint was.

She walked around to the other side of the bed and lay down on 
top of the covers.

"Can you show me where you hurt?" I asked gently.

She sat up and pulled her whole nightgown over her head and then 
pointed at her tummy, just above her underwear.  I wasn't sure 
what to make of her doing that.  Over the past several months 
she had started to be shyer, usually, about me seeing her body.  
But tonight there was no shyness, just her frowny face and a 
hand held gently on her tummy.  "I feel cooler now," she stated 
and laid back.

"Ok, good, that's a good start sweetheart.  So your tummy hurts?  
Do you think it's the food?"  That seemed like the likely 
culprit, although I felt fine and we'd eaten the same thing.

"No Daddy.  It doesn't hurt like that, it's a bit lower," She 
frowned at me.  The pain in her eyes was evident and she bit her 
lip.

"Oh sweetie," I lowered my voice, "is it time for your period 
maybe?"  Emma had gotten her period about a year ago but it had 
been irregular at first.  She was still getting used the rhythms 
of her cycle, and so was I.  Thank god for Grace helping me 
navigate what to do when it came to some of these things.

Still biting her lip I saw her think it over and then her eyes 
flashed.  "Yes, that's probably it."  She blushed suddenly.  "It 
hurts more than normal though," she said with another sad look.  
"I took some advil before I bothered you.  I'm sorry."  She 
started to sit up but I couldn't let her go without finding a 
way to help her.

I pressed her back down by her arm and said, "It's ok sweetie, 
never be sorry for coming to me for help.  I have an idea.  It 
might help the pain a little.  Hold on for a second, just lie 
here, ok?"

She nodded and I checked to make sure things were still tucked 
in, then got out of bed and went to the linen closet.  Somewhere 
in there I knew we had a heating pad.  It took a few minutes but 
I found it behind a stack of towels.  Then a quick stop into the 
guest bath to snag some girly smelling lotion.  An ex of mine 
from back in college used to beg me to rub her back and then her 
stomach when she was cramping.  And, well, she also found a lot 
of relief from orgasms and loved to fuck right before her 
period.  I could try at least the first half for Emma.

I turned on the hall light and closed the door most of the way, 
letting just a little light into my room, and then turned off 
the lamp.  I knelt beside Emma's side of the bed and plugged in 
the heating pad, then laid a towel over it.  "Flip onto your 
tummy and lay on this.  I'm going to rub your back and that 
should help things a little."

She did as I instructed and I noticed for the first time that 
her breasts were now big enough to move a little when she rolled 
over.  It was an odd feeling of sadness for how fast she was 
growing up mixed with pride that I had a beautiful young lady 
for a daughter; then a touch of lust pinged deep down.  I 
shrugged off the last bit and sat down beside her.  "How does 
the heating pad feel baby?" I asked.

Her muffled reply from her face pressed into the pillow seemed 
affirmative, so I tucked her hair to the side and pumped some of 
the lotion into my hand and rubbed it between my hands to warm 
it.  The scent of roses bloomed in the dim light.  I watched her 
back rise and fall gently as she breathed and then started to 
rub the warmed lotion into her skin.  Gently at first, getting 
her muscles warmed up, then going a little deeper and harder.  
Soon she was making happy moaning noises.  There was something 
intoxicating about touching her smooth beautiful skin and 
feeling her body warm and relax under my hands.  I almost fell 
into a trance; everything narrowed down to the feel of her, the 
smell of roses, the moans she made, and the unshatterable love I 
had for her.

As is the natural course of things, I touched her whole body 
less as she grew up.  As a baby and young child, I touched her 
everywhere - changing diapers, giving her baths, getting her 
dressed.  As she got older that transitioned to plenty of hugs 
and kisses and cuddles, but less and less full body contact.  
I'd rub her back through her nightgown if she had trouble 
sleeping.  I'd let her curl up in my bed if she had a nightmare, 
although that had pretty much stopped around age 7.  We curled 
up on the couch to watch TV.  But now that I thought about it, 
it really had been a while since I'd seen her this naked and had 
touched her all over.

I'm not sure how much time passed but eventually I paused and 
leaned my head down beside her face.  "Baby, roll over for me," 
I whispered.

She flipped herself over and smiled at me.  "That felt really 
good Daddy.  Thank you!"

"Does your tummy still hurt sweetie?" I asked, helping her 
position so that the pad was now under her lower back.

"It does a little, but you don't...," she got out before I cut her 
off.

"Shush baby, I'm going to rub your tummy a bit, that'll help," I 
said.

She nodded and blinked at me, relaxing her head back into the 
pillow.  I repeated what I'd done before, warming the lotion, 
and then I gently started to rub her belly.  I scooted her 
underwear down just a little so I could reach her lower belly 
and hips and kept rubbing.  I moved up towards her shoulders and 
my left forearm brushed over a breast.  Well, it was impossible 
to reach over her without that happening so I just kept rubbing. 
 
I felt her nipple harden and scrape at my arm as I kept going.  
She let out a soft moan that was unlike her previous happy 
noises.  I looked down at her face - her eyes were closed and 
her lips parted open just slightly.  In the dim light I could 
see a faint pink blush moving down her chest and her other 
nipple, untouched so far, joined the party, standing at 
attention.  My little girl was turned on and it floored me.

My hands trembled and I sat back, not sure what to do with this 
information.  She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at me, 
propping herself up on her elbows.  She must have seen a look of 
utter confusion on my face because she reached one hand forward 
and cupped my cheek.  "Daddy, what's wrong?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second, trying to 
get my bearings.  I had aroused my child and I was shocked to 
feel that pull of arousal echoing within my own body.  Fuck.  
This was not supposed to happen, I thought to myself.  Another 
deep breath and then I looked at her.  "I'm ok sweetheart.  I 
just realized I was touching you where I don't normally and I'm 
sorry if that, um, bothered you.  If your tummy feels better 
now, maybe you should go lie down in your own bed."

"It didn't bother me Daddy, I liked it.  It felt like little 
sparks traveling down to my tummy and back," she said with a 
smile.  She ducked her head down and softly whispered, "I wish 
you'd keep doing it."

My cock jumped at that request.  It'd had always had a mind of 
its own, and now was no exception it seemed.  But I could 
control my actions.  I lifted her chin with my fingertips and 
looked at her beautifully blushing face.  "I'm glad it didn't 
bother you, but you're getting too old to have me touch you 
there.  Someone your own age should do that, in, ah a couple, no 
make that ten or so years."

Emma frowned at me.  "But it feels good now.  It felt good when 
you touched me there.  Why can you rub my back but not there?"

"Emma," I pulled my best serious voice out, "remember when we 
talked about good touch and bad touch?"

A nod from her.

"Ok, so Daddy's don't touch their daughters that way.  It's just 
not something that happens.  Or it's not something that's 
supposed to happen anyway.  If I kept doing that and anyone 
found out I'd be in a lot of trouble."  I wasn't sure I'd just 
made the best argument for why I had to stop, but I was working 
with a semi-erection and a really confusing situation.

"I'd never tell anyone then.  And it felt good so it's a good 
touch, right?" Emma looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes.

I gulped.  Shit, how was I supposed to explain this.

Emma laid back down then, and looked up at me with her pretty 
sparkling brown eyes.  "Daddy, please rub more.  It helps me 
feel better."

I could have said no.  I could have scooped her up and put her 
in her room.  I could have just rubbed her stomach and nothing 
else.  But what I did was lean forward and place my hands on her 
soft breasts.  They were warm and I could feel her nipples 
pressing into my palms.  I gently squeezed and felt her areola 
pucker up.  She shivered but kept looking into my eyes.  "Ok 
Emma, I guess you're old enough to decide if you want this.  If 
you want me to stop, tell me, and I will, I promise.  I won't 
ever hurt you.  But you can't tell anyone, ok?  Swear."

"I swear.  I like this and I won't tell anyone if you say so," 
she said.

I nodded and lay down beside her.  I felt under her to see if 
the heating pad was too hot, but it seemed ok.  I brought one 
hand up and gently cupped a breast, rolling a nipple between my 
fingers, watching her face carefully.  She moaned and arched her 
back, her lips parting again.  I kept touching her breasts, 
squeezing them, pinching the nipples (but not too hard), and 
watching her reactions.  She was enjoying it, clearly.  Before I 
could think about it I had my mouth on a breast, my tongue 
running circles around her nipple while my hand kept playing 
with her other breast.  This caused an even bigger moan.

"Soooo good, that feels so good Daddy."

My semi-erection had gone to full force rock hard aching at this 
point.  I shifted and kissed down her chest towards her stomach, 
rubbing a hand on her lower belly where she had been cramping.  
Bursting through the rose scented lotion, I smelled her.  The 
smelled of an aroused woman... nothing compares.  It broke 
something in me and I let out a low growl of my own.  My hand 
dragged down across her cotton panties and they were wet.  She 
pushed her hips up against my hand and I yanked her panties down 
without further thought.  I was gone.  I had to taste her, that 
was all I could think about.

I moved my body down between her legs and pressed her thighs 
apart.  She tensed up, confused about what I was doing I'm sure.
  
"This is going to feel amazing sweetheart, just relax," I bit 
out before my face landed in-between her legs.  She had a very 
light dusting of hair along the top but was mostly bare.  Her 
lips were swollen already, a dark pink.  I ran my tongue up her 
slit and around the edge of her little clit.  She shuddered 
under me and I reached a hand up to lace my fingers through 
hers.  She squeezed back and I dove back in.  The smell of her 
had me in orbit.  The taste of her, sweet and tangy, was the 
best thing I'd ever tasted in my life.  I licked up and down, 
kissing her, sucking her labia into my mouth, gently licking her 
clit, then moved my tongue down and pressed it inside of her.  
My other hand moved under her ass, pushing her into my face 
more.  She was moaning and trembling and squeezing my hand.  
Then I felt her other hand in my hair, pushing my head down.  I 
smiled against her beautiful pussy and kept licking.

We were both moving against each other in synch now.  She was so 
wet, and I could see the entrance to her vagina fluttering open 
and closed a little, like an invitation.  I ran one finger 
through all her wetness and then gently pressed it against her 
opening.  "Tell me if this hurts you baby."

I felt her nod and then pushed my finger in, just up to the 
first knuckle.  Nothing had ever felt as right as her vaginal 
walls tight against my finger.  She was so hot there, so soft 
and slick and silky.  I pushed it in up to the next knuckle and 
felt some resistance at going further.  I started moving my 
finger in circles, then in and out, but not going deeper, and 
leaned back down to suck on her clit.  As she got wetter and 
pushed against me more, I added a second finger.  It was much 
tighter and she gasped, but didn't seem to be in pain.  I spun 
my hand so it was palm up and felt around for the spot I knew 
would make her feel so good.  Ah, there, a slightly rough patch 
amidst all the softness.

I curled my fingers up and stroked forward while continuing to 
lick and suck her clit.  She was panting now, her hand fisted in 
my hair.  I didn't feel any pain from it though, I was so 
focused on my task.  My cock was rubbing against the bed as I 
rocked my body and face and it felt wonderful.  I was sure being 
inside Emma would feel even better but there was no way I was 
stopping this to find out right now.

I kept stroking my fingers against her g-spot and lifted my head 
up to murmur, "Emma, let it all go.  Whatever you're feeling, 
just relax into it and let it happen.  It's ok.  This is what 
big girls' bodies do.  You're so beautiful."

My head went back down to suck on her clit and moments later I 
felt her tighten around my fingers extra hard.  Her thighs 
trembled against the sides of my head and her stomach bunched up 
tight then released.  She let out a long moan of 
"Daaaaadddddyyyyyy" and then I felt her spasm around my fingers 
and release a gush of liquid.  That put me over the edge and I 
came in my boxers, like a teenager.  I didn't even care; it felt 
amazing, jets of cum releasing from me in time with her spasms.  
I don't think I'd had such a big load in a very long time.

I gently kept stroking as she calmed down, feeling little 
tremors, like the after-shocks of an earth quake or ripples from 
a stone thrown in a pond.

Once I felt she was done enough, I slipped my fingers out and 
scooted up beside her.  I pulled her against my chest and kissed 
the top of her head over and over.  Her silken hair an echo of 
the silken feeling of her cunt.

She curled into me, so content, so peaceful.  "Thank you Daddy," 
she whispered against my chest.

I kept holding her, kissing her head, and stroking her back, 
until I felt her relax into sleep.  Then I got up and turned off 
the heating pad.  I pulled off my sticky boxers and tossed them 
in the hamper and used a warm washcloth to clean myself off.  I 
got another washcloth and went back to the bed to wipe gently 
between her legs.  She made a small noise but didn't wake.

I turned off the hallway light and carefully walked back to the 
bed in the now dark room.  I pulled back the covers and cradled 
her body against me, tucking us both in.  I was passing out 
myself.  I couldn't even begin to process what just happened.  
But I was happy.  She was happy.  That was enough for now.  I 
let sleep take me.