"Do you miss Mama?" Maggie asked Michael as she sat on his bed in his tiny single berth, holding some books she'd taken off a shelf.

"Sure..." he answered, a bit puzzled by the question. He reached out for the books she held in her lap. "I mean, it's only been a couple of hours, but..."

Maggie handed over the books. "Are you worried?"

"Worried?" he said, taking the books and staking them in a box. "Worried about Robin and Charlie? I don't think there's anything to be worried about." That wasn't entirely true; there's all sorts of things that could go wrong when the transport enters the Martian atmosphere. But as he looked at Maggie's sweet face, he could see that she was troubled. "The crew is good," he made a stab at reassuring her. "They've done this dozens of times. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Are you worried about the baby?"

"Sweetheart," he said, in his most comforting tone, "I'm sure the baby will be fine. Hey," he added, after a momentary pause, "why don't we stop packing for a while and go watch the landing from the observation deck?" He hoped that might help her with her nervousness--make the situation seem more like reality, and not like some distant mysterious thing.

"Okay." she said, giving him an uncertain smile.

The observation deck was crowded already with many of the remaining occupants of the Hi'iaka who were there to watch the landing. And, it glowed. Much as the observation deck had glowed a comforting, motherly blue when Michael had first taken Maggie and Charlie there, four months ago, to watch the final departure of the transport as it returned to Earth, so now it glowed a pale reddish-yellow, comforting still in a way, especially for travelers weary from four months in space, though not, for some reason, quite as motherly. Out the broad expanse of windows on the planet side, one could see many of the features of the Martian landscape that Michael and Maggie had grown familiar with by now from their studies, and from examining them through the telescopes on the observation deck. Some were obscured by clouds now, but they could see the polar caps, Olympus Mons, the great canyon Ma'adim Vallis, the channels and rivulets that were once mistaken for canals and that inspired so many early science fiction writers to dream of life on Mars.

The biodome below, that place that will soon be their new home, was not visible without a telescope, except for when she was shrouded in the darkness of the Martian night. Then, a faint electric glow could be seen from even as far away as the Hi'iaka in orbit 500,000 feet above the surface. Similarly, the transport herself was now too small, too far away, to be seen with the unaided eye, though the Hi'iaka's cameras tracked her flight and the image was projected on the monitors, together with images from a camera affixed to the bottom of the transport--images of the reddish surface of the planet rapidly passing underneath; Michael could imagine Robin and Charlie seeing that same vision of the planet's surface through the transport's windows.

The transport was now completing her third and final transitional orbit, and had slowed her speed, relative to the planet's surface, dramatically. But she must brake even more to make her touchdown, and this was the focus of the crew of both the Hi'iaka and the transport, their voice transmissions playing over the intercom, regularly charting her progress and her speed.

Then the monitors displaying the image from the transport switched to a forward-facing camera, and ahead in the far distance, you could see the landing station, not much more than a three mile long paved runway with a couple of buildings to house the controllers and the plows--plows for sand, not for snow--and some buses poised to unload the passengers from the ship and whisk them the ten or so miles to the biodome.

"Ten minutes to touch-down," a voice cackled over the intercom.

"Rrrroger," came the answer, the pilot of the transport giving a long, trilled "r." Maggie, who had been absolutely silent since the two of them had entered the observation deck, reached over and took Michael's hand, without breaking her stare at the monitors. He realized, as she gripped tight, that while he flattered himself with the belief that his marriage to Robin had filled a hole in Maggie's heart--and maybe it did, in some ways--in truth it must be very hard for the girl; Robin and Charlie were really all she had anymore. Michael was little more than an interloper in her life at this point, and while he hoped to be something more significant than that to her, he was reminded, as she stared at the transport and the landing station that Maggie was still a little girl, facing the possibility of being without the two people that she had relied on entirely for comfort for these many years since her father had died.

It was a long ten minutes, watching the landing station gradually grow from a tiny vision in the distance into a very present reality, the buildings starkly white against the undifferentiated reddish sand, while dad and daughter tightly gripped each other's hands. Eventually, a new voice--a Martian's voice!--broke into the cackle of the intercom.

"All clear for landing."

"Rrrrrroger."

The transport touched down, and almost instantly on touchdown, three enormous parachutes deployed from its behind, and the vehicle slowed dramatically.

"Touchdown!" the transport's pilot's voice cackled, and the observation deck broke out in cheers and applause. Maggie finally took her hand from Michael's, to clap as well, then turned to her new father.

"See? They're safe!" she said, beaming. "I knew they would be!"

Michael just smiled.

"Hello, Dubanes," Captain Ruebark said with his hands behind his back, as he stood before their table in the cafeteria an hour later, "or, at least,.those of the Dubanes who remain with us."

Michael stood and reached out to shake the captain's hand, then Maggie did the same, which caused the captain's eyes to sparkle.

"Do you miss your mother, Maggie?" her asked the girl.

"I'm okay, but Daddy misses her lots!"

Michael rolled his eyes in her direction, and the captain laughed.

"Will you join is?" Michael said, gesturing to an open chair at their table.

"I'm afraid I'm on duty right now," the captain turned down the offer. "However, I would like to request that Maggie grace the flight deck with her presence tomorrow, together with her father of course, The probes'--"

"Yes!" Maggie enthusiastically interrupted Captain Ruebark.

"--batteries are about to wear out, and we plan to send Charlie's probe into a tighter orbit to capture more data before it goes silent."

"Yes!" Maggie answered again, in case the captain hadn't heard the first time. Which seemed unlikely. "We will, won't we, Daddy?"

"Yes, of course," Michael said, smiling along with the captain at Maggie's unbridled enthusiasm.

"Excellent. The crew would not have you miss this. Does eleven hundred hours work for you? That should give us enough time."

"Yes!" Miss Enthusiastic answered.

"I'll have Lieutenant Salem escort you then."

"Perfect."

The captain having left them for his other duties, Michael looked at a nearby clock. "Oh shit," he said, which caused Maggie to giggle, "your mom said she'd call at 7:30. We gotta run!"

A few minutes later, dad and new daughter were snuggled on the couch in the main room of their living berth, Michael's tablet perched on his lap, his wife and son on the screen.

"So how was the flight, Charlie?" he asked the boy.

"Awesome!" Charlie bounced up and down with excitement, and then started making "Vroom vroom" rocket-ship sounds to accompany his hand flying like a rocket-ship through the air. This made Maggie and Charlie both giggle.

"Yes," Robin said among the noise, "Charlie really enjoyed it."

"And you?" Michael asked her.

"Oh, it was fine. I was mostly glad when it was over and we got to start settling in. Maggie, you're going to love our new house! They did up your room so nice!"

"I can't wait!"

"My room's cool too!" Charlie continued his enthusiastic soliloquy. "The curtains and bed sheets are all Commander Laser! How did they know I love Commander Laser???"

Robin and Michael, and Maggie, gave each other a knowing smile while Charlie made some "zap zap" laser sounds. The kid was clearly very excited.

"Well, I'm thrilled that you like it there so much, Charlie!" Michael said to his new son. And it was entirely true; this excited enthusiastic boy bore almost no resemblance at all to the quiet, inward child that he'd first met on that fateful day four months ago. You'd almost think he was Maggie's brother after all! And his excitement was infectious. He made Michael feel excited for the time, still three weeks hence, when he and Maggie would join his wife and son and begin this new and crazy life of theirs.

"Mama," Maggie said, when the chatter about Commander Laser had died down, "what about the baby? Is she okay?"

Robin patted her belly. "Oh, don't worry about this kid. She--or he--" she added with emphasis-- "takes after her big brother and big sister. She's a fighter. A little trip in a spaceship doesn't faze her at all."

"I'm not worried, Mama!" Maggie said. "But I think Daddy is."

Michael laughed, and Robin laughed, too, no doubt understanding exactly the meaning behind Michael's laugh. But she played along. "Don't worry, Daddy," she said. "I've got an appointment with the doctor tomorrow, and I'm sure it will go great."

"Will you call us right after the appointment?" Maggie said. "I mean, for Daddy, so he doesn't worry."

"Of course I will, baby."

"Don't forget, Maggie," Michael said, "we're to go to the flight deck at eleven o'clock."

"You mean, 'eleven hundred hours,'" she corrected him, with the air of a season sailor.

There proceeded an explanation about the pending flight deck visit, and a promise from Robin to keep calling after the appointment until she gets ahold of them, followed by more general conversation, until the parents, if not the children, determined that it was time to get ready for bed. When Maggie joined Charlie in protesting that it was too early for bed, Robin said, "You have a busy day tomorrow, Maggie, you need to get some sleep. If you get ready for bed really quick, maybe Michael will read you a story."

"Okay Mama!"

Robin gave her a sweet smile from a hundred miles below. "Talk to you tomorrow, then, okay?"

"Goodnight Mama."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Michael said to his wife, "and goodnight Charlie. Be good!"

Charlie gave him a sleepy-eyed nod, and the video feed ended.

Maggie looked over at Michael with a conspiratorial smile. "You have to read me a bedtime story!" she said. "Mama said so!"

"Okay,' he answered, hoping to quell her excitement while they were still in the common room. "Let's go get ready for bed then."

"Okay!" Maggie answered over her back, already dashing to their family berth.

Once Michael had joined her and shut the door, Maggie gave him her conspiratorial grin. "So we're going to read a dirty story tonight, right?"

"I suppose we could!"

"Yes, we could," she asserted. 'First, though," the girl added, still with that conspiratorial grin, "I have something to read to you!"

"You do?"

"Uh huh!" She pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. "I wrote this yesterday," she said, then cleared her throat and started to read:

"Daddy misses Mama
Because she had to go away
So tonight he can't have sex with her,
Like they do most every day.

But Daddy has a daughter,
His princess babygirl,
And princess special likes her daddy,
He makes her heart go swirl!

Princess has a special place,
A kitty that quivers and purrs.
It's probably not as good as Mama's,
Because it's littler than hers.

And Daddy's fuckstick is really big--
She isn't sure that it will fit,
But she dreams that it's inside her
When she's playing with her clit.

So Daddy, don't you worry,
It might be a little tight
But you can fuck your princess--
I'll be Mama for you tonight!"

Michael just stood, stunned, mesmerized, for a moment. His silence seemed to disappoint Maggie. "Do you like it? You don't like it. I know it's silly..."

"Maggie," Michael managed to reply, "It's really beautiful and sexy and..." he reached out to her, and she smiled, still looking a bit uncertain, but then, when he added with honest enthusiasm, "Come and give me a hug, my little erotic poetess!" her smile broadened and she fell into his outstretched arms. He allowed her momentum to compel him backwards onto the bed, and once they were prone, he held her down on top him, her legs on either side of his hips, and kissed her on the top of her head.

She lifted her head to smile mischievously at him. "I'm an erotic poetess!" He noticed that she was moving her hips, sliding her pubis against what she surely discovered was the inevitable erection in his pants.

"You are!" he said, moving his hands down to her ass to encourage her.

"Should I write more naughty poetry for you, Daddy?"

"Yes, you should!"

"I like my Daddy's kingcock fuckstick," she said, grinning,
"It makes my cumhole quiver... What rhymes with 'quiver?'"

"Shiver?"

She grinned even more. "When Daddy fucks my dripping cunt,
I start to shake and shiver!" she finished with a triumph.

"You are SO good!" Michael said with shining eyes. "But baby, if you're at all worried... If you're worried that it won't fit, or that it'll hurt..."

"I'm not worried, Daddy. That was just for the poem."

"Okay," he said, not entirely convinced. But he lifted his head to kiss her, and while their tongues flirted and he enjoyed her taste, she went back to her grinding, with the encouragement of his hands still gripping to her ass.

"Do you remember what happened the last time we were like this," Michael asked her after their long, wonderfully wet kiss, "except we didn't have any pants on then?"

She nodded. "We were interrupted." She gave particular emphasis to the word "interrupted."

"That's right. Maybe we should take our pants off now."

Before he had even finished the sentence, Maggie slid off and lithely, unceremoniously, pulled off her pants and panties. When he had done the same, more clumsily, she climbed right back on top of him. Michael reached down with one hand, the other firmly on an ass cheek, pulling her forward so that he could lift his cock and bring his anxious head into contact with her welcoming slit.

"I don't think we'll be interrupted this time," he said.

"I hope not!"

He rubbed his cockhead up and down, and she pushed her hips back, and his head slipped in between her lips.

"I love you, Daddy,' she gasped.

"Oh, princess!" he moaned.

"I know I'm not as good as Mama," she said, "but I want to learn."

"Don't worry..." He was gripping his cock; she was pushing back on it, hard. "You're perfect, Maggie." And just as he said those words, his cockhead pushed through what little resistance her hymen offered, and he was inside.

"Oh Daddy," she whispered, laying down on him entirely, her whole upper body barely covering his chest, as he began rhythmically lifting and lowering his hips, driving deeper with each thrust, her burning cuntlips sliding wetly half-way down his shaft.

And then the two lovers lay together, the man holding his little angel tight, the angel's eyes closed tight and her lips pursed tight, the only sound the soft squeaking of the bed springs and their breath, unified together in rhythm with the springs.

And indeed they were not interrupted this time. Their lovemaking proceeded, the man gentle and cautious, the girl inexperienced but willing, her little pussy tight and warm around his aching cock. His cock thick and hard and hot, and filled her full, fuller than she ever imagined or dreamed that she would feel. Eventually he decided that it was time to finish; her vagina, originally soaking wet, was drying now, and even while the friction was exciting to him, he knew that it was causing her discomfort, if not outright pain. So he hugged her, holding her tightly to him, and began a more rapid pace.

"Princess," he whispered, "I'm gonna cum."

She grunted as her father now delved deeper, his cock impaling her with its full length. She opened her eyes, just little slits, and turned to look at him.

"Are you gonna..." she asked breathlessly, "...are you gonna call me a whore when your cum?"

"Do you want me to?" he asked, equally breathless.

Smilelessly, she nodded.

"Oh Maggie," he said, feeling the boiling of his pending release, "you're my little whore!"

"I am, Daddy, I really am!" And now he felt a new feeling, her pussy loosening, and a sudden gush of wetness flowing as if by magic, bathing his cock, bathing his balls, even bathing his anus.

"Maggie!" he said, much louder, slamming deep into her newly-lubricated cunt, "you're a whore! You're a fucking whore!"

And then the boiling erupted into a fiery explosion, shot upon shot, his aching balls filling his princess, his daughter, his babygirl fucktoy whore.

The act now completed, he held her tiny body tight on top of him, his cock continuing to throb deep inside her as it made sure to give her every last remaining drop of semen. A minute later, she gingerly moved forward, and he slipped out.

She rolled off and smiled uncertainly up at him. He kissed her. "I love you, Maggie," he said.

"I love you, Daddy," she answered.

Many hours later, Michael emerged from the blissful cocoon of a deep and restful sleep. He couldn't remember going to sleep, he couldn't remember when he and Maggie had moved up the bed to the pillows. But he remembered the sex. Oh god yes he remembered the sex! His cock still tingled with excitement of taking Maggie's virginity, from the feeling of being inside her--the tightness, the warmth, the gushing wetness. As he looked down at the still-sleeping girl, at her peaceful, beautiful, youthful face, her head against his chest, an arm draped across his belly, he very clearly remembered the sex. How long did they make love? It must have been at least ten minutes, far longer than he'd intended, longer than a man ought to be inside a girl for her first time. But it was gentle, for the most part, and there was such an intimacy, such closeness, their two bodies united as one, not simply in the usual sexual union of cock and cunt, but everything--their bodies tight against each other, the synchronicity of their breath, even their heartbeats matching stroke for stroke as if they were one being.

And she came, didn't she, right as he was cumming? Even their orgasms were synchronized! He remembered how her pussy had loosened, how her cum had sloshed out of her, soaking his balls, when he called her a little whore. He reached a hand down--he was still naked from the waist down--and felt his scrotum; still sticky, pubic hair still matted, and he smiled at the recollection of his little hussy daughter, the little cum whore. Still in the sleepy euphoria of the memories of their sex, he looked at the clock.

Shit, it was already almost nine o'clock! Lieutenant Salem would be here in two hours, and they hadn't had breakfast yet!

Carefully, he lifted her head and moved it to the pillows. Other than a sigh, she did not respond, and he slipped out from under the bedsheets and went to the bathroom to relieve his bladder and take a shower.

He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, naked, drying his hair with a towel. Maggie was sitting up now, still in the shirt that she had been wearing when they made love the night before, nothing below. She grinned excitedly at him.

"I wrote another naughty poem while you were in the shower!" the erotic poetess exclaimed.

"You did?"

"Yep! Wanna hear it?"

"Of course!'

She picked up the crumpled paper that had the first poem she'd written on it, turned it over to the backside and straightened it on her lap, then read:

"Daddy and me and sex last night," She looked up at him, smiling,
"He took my virginity.
I know Daddy loves his princess,
Because he came inside of me.

I still feel his cock in my pussy,
I feel his sperm in my sluthole,
Daddy fucked me hard last night,
With his big thick Daddy pole.

I sorry I'm not like Mama,
And I'm not a cheerleader either,
I'm sorry I haven't got titties,
And my kitty doesn't have fur.

But I'm happy you like me anyway,
I'm happy that you don't mind.
I'm happy you like to cum in me,
I'm happy that you're so kind.

I'm happy I'm not a virgin now,
I'm happy that you were my first.
I'm happy you like to have sex with me,
And fill me until I burst.

Now Daddy, I'm your little whore,
Use me anytime!
'Cause I want to fuck like rabbits,
But 'rabbit's' a hard word to rhyme!"

Michael laughed, and Maggie smiled trimphantly.

"That was beautiful!" he said.

"I can tell that you liked it!" She grinned, looking down at his cock, which had grown to half-staff during her recitation.

He laughed. "So, Maggie, it's already past nine and we haven't even had breakfast..."

"I know, I overslept, I's sorry Daddy." She sat back and gave a little-girl pout.

"It's okay, princess, but now you've got Daddy all worked up with your naughty poem."

"Worked up?"

"That means it turned me on."

Maggie grinned, looking down at his now fully-swollen cock. "I can tell!" She looked back up. "You used to be disappointed that I wasn't a cheerleader, but now that I'm an erotic poetess, you're happy!"

He laughed and tossed aside the towel he was using to dry his hair and walked up to her. Standing next to the bed, he said, "I imagine you're too sore for sex this morning..."

"I'm okay, Daddy."

Michael wasn't sure she was telling the truth. "...and besides," he continued, 'I don't think we have time to make love."

"Pro'ly not. I'm sorry."

"But I think if we hurry, we might have time for a quick blow job before breakfast."

Her face lit in a big grin. "I promise to get ready really quick!" She crawled towards him, then paused. "Amber always gets down on the ground when she uses her mouth with whats-his-name. Is that what you want me to do?"

"A girl ought to be on her knees, looking up at the man, when she sucks cock."

"Okay!" Maggie climbed off the bed and knelt in from of Michael. Without saying a word, she opened her mouth wide.

With a hand on the back of her head, and the other holding his cock around the base, he directed his head into her. The warmth and wetness, and the soft tactile skin and muscle of her tongue, was a thrilling thing, like it always is for a man, and he let out an involuntary groan, which brought a twinkle to Maggie's eyes as she raised them to look up at him. At the same time, she raised her hands, one cradling his balls, the other wrapping loosely around his shaft. He kept one hand firmly on the back of her head, and the other joined her hand around his cock, and together they began to masturbate him while he started rocking his hips, and with each inward motion, as his head drove deeper into her mouth, she gave him a sweet welcoming suck.

It was an exquisite blow job, her inexperience obvious but not distracting--mostly because she'd read all about how to give proper head in their erotic stories, and had been dreaming of it for so long now. But as exquisite as it was, it was also fast. He was definitely concerned about the time, and as much as he would have liked to have his little daughter spend ten or twenty minutes experimenting, he felt duty-bound to finish with plenty of time for them to get ready for their command appearance on the flight deck.

So to that end, he had his fingers tight around hers and gave her a quick, hands-on demonstration of how to get a man off. She played the part of Amber the Cheerleader as best she could, petting his balls and working miracles in her mouth. The two of them made him cum together; after what couldn't have been more than two or three minutes, he let out a gruff grunt, tightened his grip on the back of her head, and let loose his load.

Maggie was a trooper, and with Michael's strong hand holding her in place, she took the first mouthful of her life. When a thoroughly satisfied Michael pulled back, she just sat there for a moment with her jaw dropped and her tongue slightly out, looking a little shocked. A viscous glob of semen began an oozing drip from the tip of her tongue, and she sucked it back in, closed her mouth, and swallowed.

Michael patted her on the top of her head. "That was awesome, Amber," he said.

"Rah rah rah," Maggie answered, waving pretend pompoms, still down on her knees.

They both laughed, and Michael helped her stand. "Do you like me better as a cheerleader, or a poetess?" Maggie asked.

"¡Los dos!"

She smiled. "Cheerleader Maggie goes 'Rah rah rah,'
Which makes her Daddy go 'Ha ha ha!'"

"Not bad, Rhymemaster MD! Now throw on some clothes and let's boogie to the cafeteria."

"'Boogie?'" She pulled off the shirt she'd worn to bed, and the two of them started throwing on some clothes. "You're silly. Nobody talks like that anymore."

"Let us move rapidly then," he said.

Maggie giggled. "Okay Daddy!"

They held hands as they walked to the cafeteria, which brought smiles to the faces of the people they passed in the hall. Michael got Maggie and him some pancakes while she commandeered a table, and when he found her, she was scribbling on a napkin. He sat down, and she looked up with her usual conspiratorial grin.

"What now?" he said with an exasperated tone.

Maggie leaned forward, smiling, even more conspiratorial. Looking down and the napkin, she began to read,

"Daddy likes my naughty poems,
They get him all worked up.
But I slept too late this morning
And we didn't have time to fuck.

But Daddy wanted a blow job,
He said we have to hurry.
And I promised I'd get ready quick,
'Cause I don't want him to worry.

So Daddy used my mouth today,
Like he always does with Mum,
And I helped him to ejaculate,
And swallowed all his cum!"

Michael smiled and shook his head.

---

For the next chapter in this story, see The Voyage of a Lifetime, Chapter Eleven.

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