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Archive name: cowgirlr.txt (M/f-pre, extr-ped, inc, voy)
Authors name: Gungadick (yataala@aol.com)
Story title : Cowgirl: Redux 

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003.  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.
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Cowgirl: Redux (M/f-pre, extreme-ped, inc, voy, 1st)
by Gungadick (yataala@aol.com)

***

A stepfather finds the joys of being a father are greater 
than he could have imagined. (This is another of my 
previously published stories. A number of people have 
asked to have it published again. Here it is.)

***

This is the story of how I became involved - sexually - 
with my six-year-old stepdaughter. It wasn't planned. It 
wasn't contrived. It just happened. I hear you, adult 
male, six year old, yeah right. Well here's my story.

It was my first marriage. Her second. She'd had a 
sheltered childhood that led into a sheltered teenage 
hood, and into a sheltered young woman hood. She finally 
broke away from her overly protective mother and 
domineering father by going to college.

The break wasn't clean, though, because she was still 
living at home, but she now had reasons to stay out late. 
She met him at the home coming game. He was pre-law and 
she was pre-spouse. The courtship lasted long enough for 
her to get pregnant and then they married. 

He turned into a prick. Yeah I know, 'best part of a 
man', but we're talking figuratively here. Anyway, she 
couldn't really say when she first realized he was an 
asshole, but it wasn't long after they both said 'I do', 
and it was immediately after he hit her with the two and 
half quart sauce pan that she said "Oh, no you don't." 

He boarded the cross-town bus to the Tombs Lockup, and 
she boarded the cross-country bus to sunnier climes. 
That's where I came in.

She had a two-year-old daughter and was managing a small 
apartment complex. I had a two-year-old degree and was 
managing a writing complex. I was supporting my 'career' 
by careening through LA traffic in a yellow cab. I worked 
nights mostly so I was around during the day. I used to 
offer her my assistance. You know, moving stuff, a little 
light plumbing (No! Not that kind!), a little light 
painting, a little yada, yada, yada.

We became pretty good friends. We shared quite a few 
meals and quite a few glasses of wine. She would confide 
in me about the 'asshole-du-jour', and I would confide in 
how I had no sex life. I don't know when we fell in 
'looooooove', but little Sam was four. Samantha was a 
great little kid. Cute as a button and smart as a whip 
(whatever that means). I asked her if she would, she said 
she could, and we both said we did. 

Everything went along fine, I got a day job at a small 
newspaper and did some free-lance for a music sheet. She 
gave up her managerial position and got a job buying 
stuff for a large retail chain. It was a big chain and 
she bought a lot of stuff. Between the two of us, we were 
doing pretty well. She talked me into giving up the paper 
work and going totally free lance. 

I was as happy as a clam (whatever that means).

At the age of five, Sam or Samantha, if we must, 
developed a strange quirk. I told Leslie it was natural, 
but she said it was 'un'. It started one night, right 
before going to bed, Leslie went to check on Sam then 
came to get me. I knew something was wrong because her 
eyes were popping out of her head. She told me to hush 
and pulled me to the door leading to Sam's bedroom. She 
held a finger to her lips and slowly opened the door. 

It was dark in there and I couldn't see anything, but I 
could hear a slight creaking sound and I could hear 
Samantha mumbling. I thought she was dreaming, but as my 
eyes adjusted I could see Samantha clearly. Her little 
butt was in the air, she was face down, and she had her 
pillow between her legs. She was rocking back and forth 
on it. 

Leslie closed the door and pulled me into the kitchen. 

"My God!" She exclaimed, grabbing my shirtfront. "Did you 
see that?"

"Well, hon, I'm not really sure what I saw. What was I 
supposed to see?"

"Well, she, she...." Leslie stammered. "She, well, you 
saw!"
	
"I saw a child rocking herself to sleep," I replied, but 
didn't know how much conviction there was in my voice. 
Apparently there was enough, because Leslie stopped 
fidgeting and said, "You think so?"

"Yeah, that's probably all it is. I don't really think 
she was humping the pillow."

After I recovered from the punch on the arm, we both 
turned in and I thought that was the end of it. About a 
month later, Leslie's mother came to visit. I hadn't seen 
her since the wedding and was hoping that memory would 
last a lifetime. But no, she had to come refresh it. The 
second night she was there she insisted on checking on 
her granddaughter before calling it a night. 

You should have seen her face when she came back. She had 
a pale Irish complexion, but this was ashen. If this had 
been a horror flick, I would have been warming up the car 
two seconds later. She spent the rest of her stay piling 
on that Catholic guilt. Day after day. It was like 
watching Hercules cleaning out the Aegean stables. That 
pile of guilt became a mountain of shit, and it stank.

She convinced Leslie to get rid of the pillow. I agreed, 
because I had a feeling the only other choice was female 
circumcision, and I've heard that ain't a pretty sight. 
Then she went out and bought her a big stuffed elephant 
to make up for the loss of her pillow. Man, was that a 
bad move. After Mama-Lou left, we were treated to the 
nightly vision of Sam humping this stuffed animal. There 
was something a little weird about that, but hey, it 
wasn't that nasty pillow.

Things were moving along smoothly. The marriage seemed to 
be working well. The money was rolling in and then wham! 
We hit that wall called success. 

Let me tell you a little about Leslie. I remember when I 
first met her, I thought, "Brrrrrr!"

But, I later realized that it was the after effects of a 
puritan upbringing. You could never joke around Leslie. 
Well maybe a knock-knock joke or the like, but sexual 
innuendoes and double entendres were received with a mute 
stare or ignored completely. I mean, how's a guy supposed 
to pick up a girl if he can't make her think he's a total 
chauvinist anyway? 

I never understood how she hooked up with those beer 
drinking, butt scratching, crotch adjusting Neanderthals. 
I know a lot of guys, from the apartment complex, who 
tried to hit on her and came away saying, "She must be a 
Lez!" But, she weren't. Quite the opposite. Leslie was a 
sexual organ. Her entire body, once you turned it on, 
exuded sex. It vibrated, it oozed, it glowed, it 
frightened the hell out of me sometimes.

All it usually took for me to get her going was an open 
mouthed kiss and a little nipple action and from there it 
was all frenzy. She didn't care for oral sex. Mine or 
hers. She just wanted me to climb in the saddle and hold 
on. The bell would go off, she'd be out of the gate, and 
I'd be holding on for dear life hoping to hear someone 
yell, "eight seconds!"

She had a dominant streak in bed. She also liked it doggy 
style. I usually had to grab a pillow and place it 
between her and the headboard or she'd have one hell of 
knot on her head in the morning, and she'd be wondering 
where it came from. She liked getting on top. And when 
she did, I felt that I was no longer there. 

Her eyes would be closed and she'd be pumping and 
jumping. She' d grab her breasts and squeeze, and pull, 
and twist, and pummel. She would often have bruises 
around her nipples. She was what all men dream about in a 
wife. A wanton slut. But, once you've got it, you realize 
that maybe it's more than you bargained for; just like 
the old saying.

Her employer solved the problem. The same energy she had 
in bed, she had at work. She went up the corporate ladder 
so fast she had to be using Jacob's ladder. Within a year 
of getting the job as buyer she was promoted to head of 
purchasing for the western district. Luckily, the 
position didn't require us to move. But, she traveled a 
lot. She'd be gone a week at a time. She'd usually be 
home on weekends, but then those started disappearing 
too, which brings us to the crux of this story.

The first time we knew Leslie would be away for the 
weekend, we spent a few days preparing Sam. She wasn't 
too happy with her mommy being gone so often and now she 
wouldn't be able to spend time with her on her non-school 
days. So, I promised her a trip to the zoo, and perhaps a 
movie, if we weren't too tired after getting monkey shit 
thrown at us.

We usually didn't set an alarm on the weekends. One or 
the other of us would wind up getting up around eightish 
to check on Sam and make her breakfast. This was quite a 
switch from weekdays when we had three alarms going. Did 
I mention that Leslie is not a morning person. She had an 
alarm at her bedside which was set to when she had to get 
up. Then she had one on her vanity set for fifteen 
minutes later when she had to really get up. Then she had 
one inside the bathroom, set for fifteen minutes later 
than that for when she really, really had to get up.

After she got the promotion, and was gone many a night, I 
got her interested in a little nookie on weekend 
mornings. Hey! A man's got to have his nookie. This is 
something we hadn't done before because of Sam, but if we 
made sure she had her toys or if she was watching a 
morning cartoon we would rip off a piece. This worked out 
fine until the morning when I felt this excruciating pain 
in my lower back, and the small child, who had just 
struck me with her toy vacuum cleaner, said, "Don't hurt, 
mommy!"

Leslie had ushered her out of the bedroom and explained 
to her that we had just been fooling around. Well, two or 
three hours later when the paralysis eased I had gotten 
up to find a very chastised little kid. I told her it was 
okay and that the limp would probably go away in a matter 
of days, or at least a week or two. 

So a rule was laid down which stated that no one under 
the age of twenty-six was allowed in the bedroom on 
weekends. Non-school days to anyone who didn't know what 
a weekend was. So the stage is set. Mommy's out of town 
for the first time on a weekend and the child's head is 
filled with promises of wild animals and animal cartoons. 

I'd been awake for a few minutes and was trying to decide 
if I should get up and empty my bladder or just try to 
reach the toilet from my prone position when I heard the 
slow creak of the bedroom door opening. I glanced over 
and a large pair of blue eyes was looking through the 
partially opened door. I smiled and said, "It's okay! You 
can come in if mommy's not here."

Well I should of set some stipulations because what 
happened next was this six-year-old child turned into a 
fair imitation of a GI storming Normandy. Sixty odd 
pounds of flesh and bones traversed twelve feet in the 
blink of an eye and now sat astride my ruptured spleen. 

I said, "Shit!" 

And Samantha pressed a hand to her mouth, opened her blue 
eyes wide, giggled, and said, "Daddy, you said the 'S' 
word!" She then bounced up and down on my stomach a few 
times and said, "Daddy, can we fool around?" She'd been 
calling me "Daddy" for a couple of years now.

I said, "What?" Having been caught off guard by her 
choice of words and then remembered that Leslie had used 
that term the previous weekend when we had been caught in 
'flagrente'. Her sitting on my bladder made me realize I 
hadn't gone to the bathroom so I pushed her further down. 

She bounced up and down a few times and I started to 
worry about ever fathering children again when she landed 
square on top of my piss hard-on. She rocked to and fro 
like kids do when they're playing horsy and she said, 
"Giddup, horsy." 

I said, "Whoa there, cowgirl." And was considering 
extricating myself so that I could attend to my morning 
duties.

Suddenly, she stopped for a moment and I felt her make 
slight adjustments to her position and realized she was 
lined up square on my engorged cock. She made a couple of 
experimental forward and back motions and I saw a smile 
appear on her lips. My mind went into high gear and it 
yelled, "Do something quick!" And then it yelled, "Wait! 
Don't scare her! Move slowly!" 

But, by then it was too late. She was rubbing her little 
cunt along the length of my cock like a fifty-dollar lap 
dancer. My cock was pointing towards my belly button and 
she was rubbing on the tender underside. I hadn't had any 
in a week and it only took about four seconds for that 
good feeling to show up. 

Her little face was the perfect picture of concentration. 
Her eyes were unfocussed, she was chewing on her bottom 
lip, and a small frown creased her small forehead. 

"You've got to stop her," I said to myself. "Oh, but, you 
don't want to traumatize her," I then replied to myself. 
"You, moron," I added, "what trauma, just ask her to stop 
so you can take a leak."

Suddenly the quiet was broken by a slight humming sound, 
and it wasn't coming out of me. I watched her face and 
realized it was coming out of her throat as though she 
were purring. Her tongue came out and licked around her 
entire mouth. I guess all that heavy breathing was drying 
her lips, and she was breathing heavy. She sat, rocking 
and going, "Hhmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm..."

I was fascinated. Hard as rock and fascinated. Close to 
cumming into the sheets, hard as a rock, and fascinated. 

I hadn't dry fucked anyone since high school, but I 
didn't remember it feeling that good. I realized that I 
had my hands on her little hips and was helping her keep 
the tempo. 

My mind finally reached out and slapped me in the face 
and I was about to lift her off when her mouth formed a 
little 'O' and her eyes opened wide. The humming stopped 
short and she moaned a little, "ooh-ooh," and then 
collapsed on top of me. She snuggled her head into my 
chest and I thought she was going to sleep.

I laid there stunned. My stepdaughter had just used me to 
get herself off. My little six-year old stepdaughter. 

I heard her tiny voice ask me something, but I couldn't 
make out what she said, so I said, "What?"

She raised her head a little and asked, "What was that?"

"What was what, sweetie?" I asked, wondering if she was 
asking what an orgasm was and how was I going to explain 
that one.

"That thing in your pants?" She asked innocently. 

"Uhhh, that's daddy's pee-pee," I answered cautiously.

"It's was really big," She said. More a question that a 
statement. Leslie and I had tried not to force prudish 
conventions on her and she had seen both of us naked on 
occasions. It was hard for Leslie, but she was trying to 
break the tradition of inherited guilt.

I coughed and said, "Well, daddy has to go pee-pee real 
bad, and when daddy has to go pee-pee real bad like that 
his pee-pee gets big." All that talk about pee-peeing 
sort of brought the necessity to the forefront and I 
wound up proving the statement by pulling the sheets off 
my naked body and letting my cock lead me to the 
bathroom. 

I noticed Sam's eyes had once again gotten rather large 
as she stared at my fast moving and swollen member. Well 
I stood in front of the urinal, but you know how hard 
taking a leak is when the wrong tube is opened up. I went 
back to the bathroom door and told Sam to go watch 
television and that 'daddy' would be taking a shower. 

Her gaze never left my cock and she muttered, "hunn-
hunn."

I walked into the glassed in shower stall and turned on 
the water. I grabbed the soap and started lathering up. A 
moment later, I felt a sudden release and let a torrent 
of urine flow down the drain. (Hey! Ladies! Remember, the 
definition of a sissy is someone who leaves the shower to 
take a leak. So, if your husband does, hmmm?)

I let the golden shower mingle with the regular shower 
until nothing was left and then went back to scrubbing. I 
got down to my crotch and realized that my cock was still 
as hard as a broom handle. I hate to admit it, but 
visions of Sam ridding my cock kept popping up in my 
head. So I did the only possible thing I could think of 
and started stroking my meat. I kept applying soap to 
lessen the friction and I was having a grand old time. 

I felt my balls contract and that good old feeling 
started working up my shaft. I reached down with my free 
hand and gently fondled my balls. I arched my back and 
let a stream of cum splatter against one of the glass 
panels. Then another and another and another. When the 
last rope of cum had sprung from my loins, I opened my 
eyes to admire my handiwork and there was my cum oozing 
down the glass shower wall and right on the other side of 
that wall was Sam. 

Her eyes were wide and she stared at my cum as it 
slithered down the wall. I noticed that she had a hand 
shoved down into her pajamas and a tell tale motion 
indicated that she was working on round two. 

I thought she would stop when she realized I was 
watching, but she kept on looking between my cock and the 
slime it had spewed. I let the water drip off my body for 
a while then reached for a towel.

"I thought daddy asked you to go and watch some TV?" I 
asked.

"Your pee-pee isn't big anymore, daddy!" She replied.

"I told you it was only big because daddy needed to go 
pee-pee, and I did, so now its small again."

"Unn hunh," she nodded. Her hand was still in her pants, 
but it wasn't moving around anymore. She placed a finger 
on the shower wall opposite of a large blob of cum that 
hadn't washed away. "Does that taste good, daddy?"

"Wha...?" I tried to say. My mind went into high gear. 
Where the hell did that question come from. I tried to 
remember if Leslie and I had had any oral sex, where Sam 
might have seen us, but like I said earlier, Leslie 
wasn't big on sucking cock and if she did she didn't 
swallow.

I tried not to sound weirded out as I asked, "Why do you 
ask that, sweetheart?"

Samantha looked up at me and immediately looked away. A 
blush crept up into her face and she half whispered, 
"It's supposed to be a secret."

You can imagine the thoughts that went through my head. 
Was someone trying to get her to suck them off. Had they. 
Had she. I was standing there naked. The act of drying 
off totally forgotten.

"Who asked you to keep a secret, Samie?" I figured this 
would be a better approach than lifting her up and 
shouting, "have you been sucking cock!" into her face.

She was still staring at the floor and there was a slight 
sway in her body as she mumbled, "Debbie."

Debbie was her closest little friend. They had known each 
other since we had moved into this duplex. Her family 
lived a couple of doors down from us. She was also an 
only child. The husband was a warehouse manager for some 
food chain and the mother worked at an electronics 
assembly plant. We had little interaction other than 
watching each other's child and ferrying them to school 
and such. 

"When did Debbie tell you that that stuff tasted good?" I 
figured if I asked direct questions she would be more 
likely to provide me with pertinent answers.

"A long time ago," she answered, no longer whispering. 
She had turned to face me and I realized she was once 
again staring at my dangling prick. I wrapped the towel 
around myself and squatted down to her level. I smiled 
and continued my interrogation.

"Why did Debbie say that it tasted good?" 

"It's supposed to be a secret," she once again supplied.

I thought for a second then a light went on. 

"Did Debbie tell you it was a secret or did someone tell 
Debbie it was a secret?"

I thought I had lost her with that one. I could see her 
eyes focus on a distant point as she digested the 
question. She smiled suddenly having reached a 
conclusion. 

"It was Debbie's daddy. He told Debbie it was a secret."

"Oh!" I nodded. Inside I said 'gotcha'. "So, Debbie 
didn't really ask you to keep a secret she just told you 
about one?"

Sam frowned a little and said, "I guess."

"So," I pressed on, "why did Debbie tell you that stuff 
tasted good."

"Because her daddy told her." 

"Did Debbie say it tasted sweet?" I asked and then 
wondered where the hell I was going with these questions.

"Noooo!" Sam replied with a smirk. "Debbie didn't taste 
any. She just said her daddy said it tasted good."

"Ohhhhh!" I replied accepting her correction. Where do I 
go from here I wondered and thought for a moment. 
Samantha was staring quizzically at me and I realized 
that my face must of given away some of my thoughts, so I 
stood up and walked into the bedroom. I grabbed a clean 
pair of pajama bottoms and we headed for the kitchen and 
some breakfast.

We had been sitting there for a few minutes, crunching on 
our individual breakfast choices. Sugar Pops for her and 
Cheerios for me. I was trying to think of a way to resume 
our conversation without making her feel self-conscious. 
I needn't have worried because she did it for me. I guess 
she was as curious about the subject of cum as I was 
about how she had found out about it.

"Debbie's daddy does the same thing you do, daddy!" She 
informed me.

"Oh?" I asked, "he writes stories?

"No, silly!" She giggled, knowing I was misleading her. 
"He plays with his pee pee."

"He, does!" I intoned, trying to sound interested. 

"Hun-hun," she nodded, "but he plays with it in bed." She 
was on a roll now. She was looking at me, a drop of milk 
rested on her chin, spoon poised over her bowl.

"Debbie says that when her daddy's home alone with her, 
they go into her bed and he lets her play with his pee-
pee. Debbie says that it gets big and hard, just like 
yours did. Debbie says that her daddy likes it when she 
plays with it. Debbie says that when she plays with it 
for a while that that stuff shoots out of it. Debbie says 
that one time it shot out and hit her in the eye. Debbie 
says she cried."

"Debbie said that hunh?" I supplied, wondering if I 
wanted to hear more of what Debbie had said. But, I 
wasn't to be spared.

"Debbie says that her daddy wanted her to taste it, but 
she was scared it would hit her in the eye again so she 
just tasted a little bit that was on her hand."

"I see, and she said that it tasted good?" I asked, never 
having known anyone who said that cum tasted good.

Sam hesitated for a moment and then leant forward and 
stage whispered, "Debbie's daddy told her it tasted good, 
but Debbie said it tasted like medicine."

I stifled a smile and whispered back, "I see."

We both went back to our breakfast cereals and our 
separate thoughts. I didn't know what she was thinking 
about, but I was thinking about whether I should do 
something about Debbie's dad, which I found ironic having 
just this morning allowed my step daughter to rub herself 
to orgasm on my cock.

It had been under the sheets and there had been no actual 
touching, but technically I was in trouble.

I also wondered how long before Debbie found out about 
this secret.

I had just taken a mouthful of little 'Os' when Sam 
asked.

"Daddy, can I play with your pee-pee next time?"

Have you ever passed a toasted little O through your 
nose? I don't recommend it. I held my napkin to my mouth 
and tried to stem the spray. My eyes watered and it took 
a moment to regain my equilibrium. I looked at Sam. She 
sat stunned. A fine spray of milk drops were splattered 
across her face.

"Daddyyyyy!" She whined.

"I'm, I'm," I coughed and a little 'O' came hurtling up 
out of my lungs. "I'm sorry, sweetie. It just went down 
the wrong pipe," I wheezed. I reached over and wiped her 
face off with a clean napkin. I took her bowl and asked 
if she wanted more, but she said she was done. I was 
trying to ignore the question. I figured the near 
necessity of doing the Heimlich on her dad might have 
driven thoughts of cocks and cum out of her mind. But, of 
course, you know I was wrong.

"Daddy? Can I?"

"I don't think so, sweetie. That's not something daddies 
and their little girls do."

"But, Debbie's daddy did it!" She whined.

"I know, honey. But he shouldn't. That's why he told 
Debbie it was a secret."

Her eyes got bigger as she realized she had violated her 
little friend's trust.

"Daddy!" She cried. "You can't tell anybody!"

"I won't, sweetie." I said, hoping to alleviate her 
anxiety.

"Do you promise?" She asked.

She had me now. She knew I felt that a promise to her was 
just as good as a promise to her mother. I had taught her 
that a promise was not something to give easily and that 
one should always keep her promises. I figured, 'what the 
heck. I'll promise this and figure out a way around it."

"Not even to mommy?" She asked. Her arms were crossed and 
she had an eyebrow raised. She looked just like her 
mother.

I said 'Damn!' And out loud I said, "Okay, Sam, I 
promise." She put out her hand and we shook on it.

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, as though 
she was sizing me up, and added, "If I promise, will you 
let me play with your pee-pee?" God, she was quick. There 
was no moss on this kid.

"No, honey. I don't think so," I replied, shaking my 
head, but inside of my pants there stirred an objection.

* * *

We'd had a great day. The Southern California weather had 
even cooperated. The temperature had remained in the low 
eighties, the air had that quality to it. You know, just 
below eye watering, throat burning, wheezing, let's-sit-
and-rest-for-a-moment-this-oxygen-tank-is-getting-heavy 
type of day.

At the zoo, some animals had actually deigned to grace us 
with their presence. I didn't have to hold Samantha high 
up in the air and say things like, "you see that little 
piece of brown stuff over there. No that's a turd. Over 
there closer to the rock. Well that's the tip of the 
lion's tail. Uh-hun, that is exciting." Even the fucking 
Panda had been out, well actually we don't use the word 
fucking to describe a Panda, because no one has ever 
proven they actually do!

Then we went to see the latest Disney movie. There were 
lots of animals in that too and every few seconds Sam 
would say, "Daddy, we saw one just like that at the zoo." 
And the little kids sitting around us looked upon her 
like a god. One little kid leaned over and asked, "Were 
the lions really outside?" And Sam, basking in the 
adoration, went on to describe all the animals that had 
been outside, even the asexual Panda.

To top the day off, we went to Chucky Cheese's. I know, I 
know, sainthood can't be far behind. She smacked a bunch 
of gophers on the head, and we tossed and rolled a number 
of balls. We even ate some pizza or maybe it was the box. 
Sometimes I can't tell the difference.

Home at last. I was pooped. My ankles hurt, my legs were 
sore, even my butt ached. I could have dropped off right 
then and there. Samantha had that glassy eyed, flushed 
face, vibrating muscle look of the 'can I stay up late' 
child. We bargained for a while and I told her she had to 
take her bath now and then we'd bring it to the table 
again. I made sure the bath was nice and hot. 

Samantha was never one of those 'toss me a few toys and 
I'll be in the tub till dawn' type of kids. She liked to 
get in, wash, and get out. Or actually, she liked to get 
in, sit for a while, and then get out. So, even at the 
age of six, we would 'assist' her in her bathing. I told 
her to get out of her clothes and to go get a clean pair 
of pajamas for when she was done. She came back naked 
with her favorite 'Sailor Moon' pajamas. 

I'd seen her naked a thousand times, but this was the 
first time my mind turned to sex as I looked at her 
hairless genitalia. Six is that age when a lot of 
transitions occur. They're in their first year of real 
school. 

Their personalities are developing rapidly and you begin 
to realize what sort of person your child will become. 
They stop using so many baby names for things and their 
interests expand from drawing with crayons to cutting out 
things and pasting them into a 'collage', which is sort 
of redundant since 'collage' is French for 'pasting-
things-together' so we should just say cutting things out 
and making a 'pasting-things-together' thing or whatever.

This is also when their bodies begin to change. They lose 
that cherub look and start to gain definition. Their 
bodies grow so quickly that all that baby fat just 
stretches upwards. Sam had never been fat, but she wasn't 
thin either, just sort of average I guess. She had the 
cutest little rounded tush. That's not just my opinion 
either. On many an occasion some strange lady in a mall 
or other public place would ask, "Is that your daughter?" 
and then would go on to say, "She has the cutest little 
tush!"

Anyway, there she stood, naked. Her cute little round 
tush sticking out back. She still had enough baby fat 
that there were fleshy little mounds on her chest where 
her breasts would some day be, and her cunt pouted out 
front. Her cunt didn't have that flat to the contours of 
her crotch aspect, it was more of a rounded sticking out 
you can fit your hand around my mound kind of quality. If 
you ever wanted to do that that is. And at the moment, 
that's the thought that was going through my mind. 

I shook my head and lifted her into the bath. I guided 
her through the let's-put-some-soap on that wash cloth 
stage and encouraged her to reach places heretofore 
unknown to soap and water - behind the ears, the back of 
the arms, anything below the knees. We would usually have 
to help her clean her butt. She didn't seem to be able to 
reach in there and do a good job. I would have her assume 
the position, which was on all fours, with butt sticking 
up in the air and run the cloth between her cheeks. 

This time I couldn't help but notice how her cunt stuck 
out between her upper thighs. She usually stayed in that 
position so that we could then wash her hair. I kept 
glancing back at that inviting slit and my cock responded 
equally.

I stood her up, rinsed her off, and let the water run out 
of the tub. I grabbed a big fluffy towel and started 
drying her off. I was kneeling by the side of the tub and 
my cock was rubbing against it. I pressed harder and it 
felt pretty good. I picked her up and set her down on the 
bathroom rug. I tried to keep her back to me or the towel 
between us. But, I had to put the towel down to help her 
slide into her pajamas and I looked up to see her staring 
at the bulge in my pants.

"Daddy, why is your pee-pee big?" She inquired. "Is it 
because you have to use the toilet again?"

What a bright girl. Ask and embarrassing question and 
supply an appropriate answer at the same time. Oh, she 
would become quite the woman.

"That's right, sweetie." 

We stood there facing each other for a moment. I, waiting 
for her to leave. She, apparently waiting for me to whip 
it out and urinate. I turned her around, patted her cute 
little tush, and sent her out to choose a book for me to 
read to her. I closed, and locked, the bathroom door and 
fumbled with my zipper. 

It took fewer than twenty strokes before jets of white 
cum splattered into the sink. I placed a hand on the sink 
and leaned forward, breathing heavily. 'Jesus! Get a hold 
of yourself' I said to myself. I looked down and realized 
I already had. This was getting weird on more than one 
level. I would have to find a way to deal with this.

I read to her from her current favorite, a book about a 
young magician who gets into strange and weird dilemmas. 
I tucked her in and went to my room. I was exhausted. It 
was only nine o'clock and here I was stripping down to go 
to bed. My head had barely hit the pillow when a tiny 
voice said,

"I miss mommy!"

I rolled over and looked at Sam standing by the edge of 
the bed. She was holding her favorite stuffed elephant 
and looked like she was about to cry.

"I know, honey," I commiserated. "So do I!"

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" She pouted.

She hardly ever asked to do that, usually only when she 
was ill. So, I patted the bed and she climbed in, 
dragging her usual sex partner with her. I rolled back 
over and she snuggled up to my naked back. The elephant 
was between us and his fuzzy coat was irritating. I 
figured she would soon drift off to sleep and I would 
then remove the irritation. 

I must have dozed off first, because the next thing I 
remember was being awakened by a strange noise. The 
bedside clock said ten o'clock. I listened and realized 
that it was Sam that was making the noise. She was 
humming to herself. I then realized that the bed had a 
rhythmic motion to it and realized she was riding the 
elephant. 

I stifled a snicker and lay there listening to her 
rapture. Her breath caught in her throat as she reached 
her climax and then the motion and the humming stopped. 
Within a minute, the silence was broken by a tiny snore. 
I smiled and soon drifted off myself.

I had strange dreams that night. I dreamt of hunting 
lions from atop elephants. I hunted with this huge fleshy 
spear. The lions would all run away and from the rear I 
could see these fleshy, protruding labia. I would throw 
my spear, but I always seemed to miss. Then finally, I 
dreamt of my wife. I dreamt of fucking her. The dream 
seemed so real. 

Then I realized I was awake and I could hear Sam 
twittering and could feel Sam's hand on my cock. Or was I 
still dreaming? I lie still for a moment, feeling her 
small hand stroking slowly up and down. If this was real, 
she was pretty good. Then I heard her speak,

"Oooh, look Nosie." Nosie was the name of her elephant. 
"There's more stuff coming out."

Jesus, this wasn't a dream. I was about to sit up and say 
something when she said,

"Do you want to taste it this time? No! Okay, I'll taste 
it again."

I felt a warm moistness pass over the head of my cock and 
my eyes shot open. Sam was kneeling at my waist. The 
sheets had been kicked off during the night. Something 
Leslie always complains about. Sam knelt there with her 
trusty sidekick standing by her side. Her right hand was 
on my cock and she was raising her head away from my 
little one. Her lips smacked a couple of times and she 
told Nosie, "It doesn't taste like medicine!"

Her eyes traveled past Nosy and she saw me watching her. 
Her eyebrows shot up and looking away she sheepishly 
said, "Morning, daddy."

"Morning, Samie," I replied, "what are you doing?"

We both damn well knew what she was doing, but I had to 
ask.

"I was just looking at your pee-pee, Daddy!"

"I see that," I replied. "Didn't we already talk about 
this. How would you feel if daddy played with your pee-
pee without asking?" 

Man, was that a poor choice of words. Her face lit up 
like it was Christmas. 

"Would you, daddy?" She asked.

"No, Sam!" I answered aghast at her question. "I 
wouldn't!"

She turned a pouting face away from me and went back to 
exploring my prick. She started stroking again and I 
suddenly realized how close I was to cumming. In quick 
succession, I reached out a hand and started to warn her 
about what was coming. She had leant forward, tongue 
extended, to swipe at another clear drop of fluid. 

Finally, my cock gave its best impression of Mount St. 
Helens. The first spurt went into her mouth and she 
pulled away quickly. The second, third , and fourth hit 
her square in the face. And the last few just sort of 
bubbled out and oozed onto her hand. 

She turned a wide eyed and stunned looking face to me. 
Strands of cum adorned her face, from forehead to chin. I 
watched her throat work as she swallowed what was in her 
mouth. A strange look crossed her face. Her tongue poked 
out of her mouth and took a swipe at a strand of cum that 
hung from her upper lip. 

Suddenly she smiled and her tongue went to work dragging 
cum into her mouth. She was like a kid licking melted ice 
cream. I couldn't believe my eyes. The sight of her doing 
that was so erotically charged that my cock changed 
direction in mid deflation and swelled back up. 

Sam watched as it swelled in her hand and she giggled. 

"That feels funny, daddy!" She chimed. She bent forward 
and licked at the cum that was still oozing from the tip 
of my cock. I took my first breath in what seemed like an 
hour and I moaned.

Sam looked up quickly, thinking she had hurt me, but she 
realized that it was a moan of pleasure and she bent back 
down to her task. I saw her wrap her lips around the head 
of my cock and her cheeks caved in as she tried to suck 
more cum out of it. I threw my head back. The sensation 
was indescribable, so I won't try. I finally reached out 
and pulled her away from my cock.

"Enough, Sam. Enough!"

Sam giggled at the choked up sound of my voice. She then 
took our encounter to the next level. Sam threw a leg 
across my pelvis and sat astride my newly rampaging cock. 
She pressed her cunt onto it and started sliding back and 
forth. 

It was at that moment that I started having sexual 
relations with my step daughter. If you could only have 
seen her. Her little, angelic, cum dripping face was 
beaming with pleasure. Her little chest was pumping in 
and out quickly. Her little cunt splayed out on top of my 
cock. Her labia were big enough to splay half way around 
my cock shaft. There was a lot of heat coming from her 
cunt and every time she hit the head of my cock I moaned. 
And then she started to moan. A

Pretty soon the room was filled with moaning. Her mouth 
soon formed that little 'O' of pending orgasm and she 
suddenly said, "Ooh, ooh, ooh," and then collapsed onto 
my chest. Her little body shuddered for a few moments and 
then she sighed deeply. I looked up and could see my 
rampant cock sticking up from between her thighs. I could 
just barely reach around her, as I sought to finish 
myself off. 

I guess my arm repeatedly jogging her as I stroked my 
cock must have roused her to what was going on. She slid 
off to my left and watched my hand go up and down for a 
while. Then she leant forward and swiped her tongue 
across the tip of my cock. I moaned and my eyes rolled 
back and fluttered. I felt her little hand join mine so I 
let go. She resumed the stroking motion and we both 
watched her work my cock. 

It took a little longer this time and she had plenty of 
opportunities to experiment. She went fast, then slow, 
then used both hands, then played with the head, then 
played with my balls with one hand as the other stroked. 
That last one was my suggestion. She would repeatedly 
lean forward to lick the fluid bubbling from the tip of 
my cock. I don't know how long it was before she realized 
that every time she did that that her daddy would moan in 
pleasure. But, she suddenly bent forward and placed her 
mouth around my cock head. 

"Oh, sweet Jesus!" I mumbled. Then added, "watch it, 
Honey! Daddy's about to spurt again."

But, instead of pulling her mouth away she just started 
sucking and stroking faster. My cum raced out of my cock 
and bounced off of her tonsils. There wasn't half as much 
as earlier and she had no trouble swallowing as she 
continued to suck. This kid was a pro. It had been a long 
time since someone had sucked me off, but I still had a 
fair recollection of how it felt and this was much 
better.

She licked, and sucked, and literally washed my cock with 
her tongue. I finally reached out and pulled her away 
from it. She lay across my chest and murmured:

"Did I do good, Daddy?"

"Oh yes, Sam! You did really, really good!"

She snuggled in deeper and made a satisfied sound.

"It does taste good, Daddy!"

"That's nice, Samie!"

"Can we do it again, Daddy?"

"Not just yet, sweetie!"

She giggled and said, "I know, Silly! But can we do it 
again some other time?"

"Maybe, Sam. Maybe."

"I won't tell anybody, Daddy!" She informed me. Which 
made me realize she knew this had been taboo. But, there 
was a quality to her statement that made me think that 
'anybody' didn't include little Debbie.

"You promise?" I asked, putting her on the spot.

She hesitated for moment then in a slightly disappointed 
voice said, "Yes, Daddy."

* * *

It was Sunday evening, and Samantha and I were at the 
airport waiting for Leslie's flight to unload. I had 
spent the entire day in a daze. I had a myriad of 
emotions going through my mind, but none of them were 
guilt, which caused me no end of distraction. 

I should have been feeling terrible about having sex or 
rather allowing Sam to have sex with me. It had been 
highly erotic and in the back of my mind was the desire 
to repeat the act. 

I glanced at Sam, who sat next to me in one of those 
molded plastic chairs that should come with a seat belt 
because if you relax your legs your butt starts sliding 
out of it and you wind up feeling guilty because you keep 
remembering how your mother told you it wasn't nice to 
slouch.

Anyway, she sat there watching people and the big planes. 
Her legs didn't reach the floor and she was swinging them 
back and forth. I felt a warmth go through my body as I 
looked at her. I blushed as I realized it wasn't just the 
feeling of parental love, but there was a slight sexual 
glaze to it. 

I looked around quickly at all the slouching people to 
see if there were any mind readers among them, but no one 
was glaring at me so I figured I was safe. 

The door to the jetway opened and people started pouring 
out. They all had that dazed expression people have 
coming off of a long flight. They look like their 
aircraft had crashed and they were the survivors. 
Wrinkled clothing and flat hair were 'de rigeur.' Sam and 
I watched the door closely for the first signs of Leslie. 
Sam was standing on her chair and holding onto my arm so 
that she didn't fall down. 

I was distracted for a moment by a large pair of breasts 
and the next thing I knew a six year old was screeching 
in my ear.

"Mommy!"

I looked back towards the doorway in time to see Leslie 
search the crowd for the source of the screech. I 
recognized the next person out of the gateway. It was her 
coworker Chuck. He of the tailored suit and two hundred 
dollar haircut. I had never seen even a single hair out 
of place on his head. I bet even high winds wouldn't be 
able to budge one. He was the epitome of "shmarm." And, 
he was always hovering around my wife. 

At every soiree, I was forced to go to, and at every 
picnic her store put on, there he was, hanging around my 
wife. Wearing his Izod polo shirts, his charcoal colored 
hundred dollar slacks, and his plastic fucking hair. I 
didn't like the guy, in case you were wondering.

He was leaning over and saying something to Leslie and 
she was scanning the crowd as she nodded and he walked 
away. Chuck thought he was God's gift to woman kind, and 
to give him credit he always had a good looking babe on 
his arm, but never the same one twice. 

I suppose an evening of listening to Chuck tell you how 
great he was, was sufficient for the average woman to 
realize he was as plastic as his hair. I'm not being 
harsh because of my dislike for the guy, I'm merely 
repeating what someone had told me.

Sam jumped down off the chair and went running to her 
mother. I walked up and found Leslie down on one knee 
giving her daughter a hug. She stood and I put my arms 
around her for a hug, but she only returned it half 
heartedly. 

"Long flight?" I asked, needlessly.

"Yeah!" She replied and her eyes didn't make contact with 
mine. I shrugged it off as her being tired, but I think 
in the back of my mind some little voice was saying 
something was wrong.

We went down to the luggage carousel and waited for her 
bags to show up. Sam was excited to have her mother back 
and was peppering the air with questions. Leslie, smiled 
weakly, and tried to pay attention to her daughter. I 
scanned the crowd and my eyes fell on Chuck. He was 
looking our way. I smiled and nodded. He merely looked 
away.

"Asshole!" I muttered.

"What?" Samantha asked.

"Nothing, sweetie! Just wondering when the luggage will 
arrive."

The carousel started and people gathered around like 
dowagers at a Macy's white sale. There was so much 
pushing and shoving you'd have thought they were giving 
stuff away. I gathered the bags and we wended our way to 
the parking lot. We drove home and Leslie sat in brooding 
silence. Sam gave her version of the weekend. She was 
excitedly telling her mother about the trip to the zoo 
when she realized her mother wasn't paying attention.

"Mommm!" She cried out. "You're not listening!"

"That's a fact!" I said, adding my two cents worth. I 
glanced over at Leslie and she saw the concern on my 
face.

"I'm just tired!" She insisted, but she didn't look it. 
She looked preoccupied. I figured something had gone 
wrong on her trip. Some deal hadn't materialized or 
someone had screwed up royally. 

We got home and I offered to fix her something to eat. 
She declined and said she would be going to bed early. I 
looked at the clock and it was barely eight. I reminded 
her that she had a daughter who hadn't seen her in a 
while and was anxious to do just that. Leslie sighed and 
said she'd try to stay up for a while. The phone rang and 
I answered. It was Mr. Shmarm himself. 

I asked what the fuck he wanted since he'd just left my 
wife an hour ago, although I didn't quite phrase it that 
way. I yelled to Leslie who was in the bedroom and she 
picked up the extension. She came out a few minutes later 
looking like a wrung out dish rag. I was really concerned 
now and said so. She said they were having problems with 
a supplier. 

"What," I said, "and Mr. Plastic Hair couldn't wait until 
tomorrow to talk to you about it."

She looked sharply at me, which was a first, since she 
was the one that had first used the name Mr. Plastic Hair 
to describe Chuck. 

"He just wanted to remind me that we have an early 
meeting tomorrow!" She glared.

I shrugged and turned back to getting Sam a glass of 
milk. 

"Your daughter's waiting for you to read her a bedtime 
story," I told her and handed her the glass of milk.

I went in and said good night to Sam and then went into 
the den to do some work. I had gotten a piece of work 
rewriting a script. An old friend from college days was 
now a big wig at Sony Pictures and having seen my by-line 
in the L.A. Times one day had gotten in contact with me. 
We had gotten together for drinks and to rehash old 
times. He had also started passing some work my way and 
they paid damn good. I was working on their latest teen 
horror flick. Working on the cut-aways. I had done a good 
job on the last script and they liked my work. There was 
even talk of making me head writer on one of the next 
projects. Now that was big money.

I glanced at my watch and realized it was nearing eleven. 
I turned off the computer and went in search of my wife. 
I walked into the darkened bedroom and saw her lying 
there. She was rolled onto her side facing away from me. 
I stripped and brushed my teeth and clambered into bed. 
Usually, when she's gone to bed before me she fusses 
about how much noise I make coming to bed, but this night 
she didn't say a word. She didn't even move. I realized 
that she was wearing a night shirt. Something she never 
did. Leslie slept in the nude, always had. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked. I was starting 
to worry. Things weren't right. Something must have 
really gone wrong on that trip.

I got no reply. I rolled into her an put an arm around 
her. 

"Don't!" She said and threw my arm off.

"What the fuck is wrong?" I asked, giving caution to the 
wind. Leslie loved to cuddle and had never refused.

 She turned towards me and said:

"I'm sorry! I'm just really tired and irritable. I just 
need to sleep."

"Yeah!" Came my cutting retort. I rolled over onto my 
side and fumed. I hated cuddling and had made the 
ultimate male sacrifice only to be rebuffed. 

I was shaken awake in the morning and I opened my eyes to 
find Leslie completely dressed and on her way to work. I 
hadn't even heard the alarms go off. Like I've said 
earlier, Leslie isn't a morning person and I usually have 
to drag her out of bed and physically throw her into the 
shower with her cursing my ancestors the entire way. I 
lie there in shock. She asked if I could take Sam to 
school and reminded me that it was our week to give 
little Debbie a ride. I moaned into my pillow. I glanced 
at the clock and it was only six a.m. 

"Jesus!" I stated. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" She insisted. "Look, I've got to go. 
Are you up?"

I told her that I was and she left. I sat on the edge of 
the bed and scratched my chest. I looked at what I was 
doing and laughed. I had written this scene into the last 
script I worked on and was told that no one actually 
awakes and scratches their chest. I took a bracing shower 
and when I came out Sam was standing there clutching Mr. 
Nosie and watching my dick. I told her to scoot and she 
ran into the kitchen. 

I fixed her breakfast and we worked through her 
disappointment of not seeing her mother before she had to 
leave for work. I silently decided that Leslie and I 
would have to have a talk. We chose a nice outfit for Sam 
to wear and we primped and brushed and washed and brushed 
and brushed and brushed until she resembled a little girl 
and not something raised by wolves. She has thick, dirty 
blonde hair and becomes tow headed in the summer. She has 
naturally wavy hair, to quote every beautician I'd run 
across, which is another way of saying your going to 
spend half your life untangling knots and bringing tears 
to her eyes. 

We went out and found that Leslie had taken the SUV from 
the prior evening and left me with her 'beamer'. Great I 
said to myself, she took the freaking booster chair. I 
strapped Sam into the back and told her she was like a 
big girl now and pre-empted any complaint she may have 
wanted to voice. I drove down the street and stopped 
outside of Debbie's duplex. Her mother came out almost 
immediately, dragging a crying bundle of joy. She 
strapped her sniveling daughter in next to Sam and gave 
me the 'it's been one of those mornings look'. We bid 
each other good day and I took off.

Sam regaled Debbie with tales of the zoo and Debbie 
quickly rebounded from whatever grievance she had had 
that morning and was soon asking if the lions had really 
been out.

I looked into the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of 
the two little blonde heads talking. Suddenly the 
salacious thought of what it would be like to play with 
those two went through my mind and I quickly looked away. 
I felt the blood rushing into my face and I silently 
cursed myself. 

"Where the hell did that come from?" I said aloud. And 
both girls giggled. It was as though they knew what I was 
thinking.

"You said the H word, daddy!" Samantha chimed.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," I replied, looking at her in the 
rearview. God she was cute.

I drove into the school parking lot and freed the two 
little back seat prisoners. I walked them to the door and 
they said good by and scampered down the hallway, joining 
the other little people in the land of Lilliput. I saw a 
knot of ride share parents and went over to join the 
crowd. I joined the conversation and found out about 
sales on kids' clothes; a great recipe for leftover 
chicken; how the Dodgers could get out of their slump; 
which parents were rumored to be breaking up; and how to 
make an atom bomb. A very diverse group.

I was asked to join some at the local Denny's and I went. 
We were sitting having our not so grand breakfasts when 
someone mentioned that today was a half day at school. I 
cursed myself for forgetting to look at the school 
calendar and excused myself to call Debbie's house. Her 
mother was just leaving and she told me that she had 
worked it out with Leslie. I was going to keep Debbie 
until she or her husband came to get her. 

I used all the tact I knew how and told her that perhaps 
she should make those arrangement with me since I was the 
stay at home parent. I guess I didn't use enough tact 
because she said if it was too much trouble she would 
take the afternoon off. I told her no, that I had just 
said that because Leslie had a way of forgetting to tell 
me these things. We broke off on a reconciliatory note 
and I went back to my congealed eggs, cold sausage, and 
tiny triangles of wheat toast.

The morning went by slowly. I sat down in front of the 
computer to do some work, but wound up staring off into 
space. Several times, I would shake myself from my 
reverie and realize I hadn't done a bit of work. I 
thought it was funny that I also couldn't remember what I 
had been thinking upon with such focus. 

I gave up trying to work and gave Leslie a call. I hardly 
ever called her and when I did she would usually rush to 
the phone asking if Sam was all right. This time I was 
informed that Ms. Deakan wasn't in the office and wasn't 
expected back that day. I left a message for her to call 
me if she came back to the office. 

As I bade the secretary farewell I said, "Guess I should 
have called earlier?"

And I was informed that it wouldn't have helped because 
Ms. Deakan had taken a personal day after a long buying 
weekend in New York. I thanked the secretary once again 
and was about to hang up when a thought crossed my mind 
and I asked to be connected with Mr. Charles Norris. I 
was informed that good old Chuck was also absent that 
day. 

I cradled the phone and then calmly ripped it off the 
wall and threw it across the room and into the living 
room where it bounced harmlessly on the sofa. I was even 
angrier now that I had been deprived of the satisfying 
sound of a phone crashing against something made of 
glass, or wood, or ceramic. I looked around for something 
else to rip apart or throw and then realized I was acting 
like a fool. I braced my hands against the counter and 
took deep breaths. 

I heard a chime and looked at the clock and realized I 
had to go pick up Sam and Debbie. I don't know how I made 
it to the school in one piece. I didn't remember any of 
the trip over. 

There were about two hundred kids pouring out of the 
school as I pulled into the lot. I searched for the two 
that belonged to me. I'd always told Sam to stay by the 
front door and that I would find her, but she always got 
caught up in the melee and ran about like the rest of the 
misguided. 

To make matters worse, all of the little six year olds 
had face paint on and it was like trying to tell goldfish 
apart. Every other little blonde-headed girl had on a 
lilac jacket and my eyes were starting to hurt. It was 
like looking for Waldo. Suddenly a little hand grabbed 
the crease in my pants and tugged. 

"Daddy," a frowning Sam said, "who are you looking for?"

I looked down at Sam and Debbie's wondering faces and 
couldn't resist.

"I was looking to see if I could find a couple of better 
behaved little girls. I thought I might trade up!"

"Daddeeeee!" Sam intoned. Debbie giggled as she realized 
I was pulling their little legs.

We stopped at Carl Jr's on the way home and had a 
nutritional lunch. I watched the two little urchins play 
with their food and gossip about other kids at school. I 
suddenly realized I was looking at them as kids and not 
sex objects. Thank God that had passed, or maybe it was 
only because I kept picturing Leslie with Mr. Plastic 
Hair. The urge to throw something passed quickly. 

The girls stopped showing an interest in their meal so I 
went about cleaning them up and putting their jackets 
back on. I've never understood how if little kids only 
eat half of their burgers they can get that much stuff on 
their faces. I even found a dollop of catsup on the back 
of Debbie's ear. 

We got back home and the girls ran to Sam's room to play. 
I told them I'd be in the den and to not leave the room 
without coming to tell me. I finally settled down to do 
some real work and got wrapped up in what I was doing. I 
finally looked at my watch and realized I'd been working 
for an hour and a half without being interrupted. I found 
that strange and got up to check on the girls.

I walked down the hallway and could hear a low murmur 
coming from Sam's room. I figured I'd let sleeping dogs 
lie and just stood out of sight and listened for a 
moment. 

"..... then he puts his thing in here!" I heard Debbie 
whisper.

"Ooohhh!" Sam whispered in amazement.

"It really hurt the first time and I cried!" Debbie 
informed Sam.

"The first time?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, he did it again a couple of times and the last 
time it felt good!"

"It did?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yeah! And you know what else?" Debbie said, urging Sam 
to ask her.

"What?" Sam obliged.

"I've been putting Mr. Banana up there at night and it 
feels really nice now."

"Mr. Banana!" Sam giggled. 

Mr. Banana was a little plastic banana about eight inches 
tall and an inch thick. It had a painted face and little 
arms that came out about half way down its banana shaped 
body and could stand on little feet. Sam had one just 
like it.

'My God! She's telling Sam about getting fucked by her 
father!" I told myself and pictured little Debbie lying 
in bed with a big cock stroking in and out of her. My own 
cock stirred and rose mightily in my pants. I pushed down 
on it, but that only felt good so I left it alone. I was 
all ears now and listened intently. I wondered if I 
should go in there and thus end their conversation, but I 
had to know what else they would say.

"You should try it!" Little Debbie urged Sam. "I'll show 
you!"

I leaned back against the wall and clapped a hand over my 
mouth. I had almost let out a loud, "What!" when I heard 
Debbie make the offer. I heard the rustling of clothes 
and waited. About ten seconds later I heard Sam exclaim:

"Oohhhh!"

I couldn't resist, I slowly poked my head around the door 
frame. Little Debbie was lying on the floor, wearing only 
a tee shirt, her hand was pushing Mr. Banana into her 
hairless little cunt. I stood transfixed as I watched the 
little plastic man slide slowly into her. Sam knelt next 
to Debbie and watched with amazement. Debbie pushed the 
little man in up to his little arms and then slowly 
pulled him back out. She repeated the process with quiet 
deliberation. Mr. Banana had an easier time getting into 
Debbie now and he started going in and out a little 
faster. Soon, the lucky little bastard was rushing in and 
out without any hindrance whatsoever. 

Samantha watched the toy closely. She had stuck a hand 
into her pants and I could see it moving about. Little 
Debbie lie with her eyes fluttering as she pummeled her 
cunt. My breathing was coming in gasps now and I suddenly 
realized that I was standing there with my cock in my 
hands. I was stroking in tempo with Debbie and was 
imagining it was my cock sliding in and out of her. 

I must have groaned loudly because Sam's eyes shot up to 
the doorway and she saw me standing there. Her mouth fell 
open in sudden fear at having been caught, but then she 
saw my cock and sat there staring at it instead of her 
friend. 

Debbie kept on doing the horizontal bop with Mr. Banana, 
unaware of my presence. Unaware until Sam placed a hand 
on her chest and shook her. Debbie opened her eyes and 
saw Sam looking away. She followed Sam's gaze and saw me 
standing there. She gave out a loud gasp and pulled poor 
abused Mr. Banana out of her sopping little cunt. She 
quickly sat up, eyes wide opened, in anticipation of my 
wrath. It was then she noticed my swollen cock and she 
too stopped to stare at it.

I gave way to my emotions and damned common sense. I 
walked into the room and stood in front of both girls 
with my cock bobbing up and down. A small strand of 
precum hung from the head. It slowly stretched and headed 
for the floor. Sam scrambled forward and stuck out her 
tongue. She captured the strand and followed it up to my 
cock. I groaned at the erotic sight of my little cum 
eater licking up my juices. She put a hand around my cock 
and slid her mouth onto it. I groaned loudly as the moist 
warmth of her small mouth wrapped itself around my 
throbbing sexual organ. 

Little Debbie moved closer and watched her friend 
perform.

I let Sam suck on me for a while then I pulled out of her 
mouth and offered my cock to Little Debbie. Debbie looked 
up at me quickly as though to reassure herself that it 
was okay and then she took the head of my cock into her 
mouth. I felt her tongue play about the head of my cock 
and savored the feeling. She pulled her mouth off and 
holding my cock in her hand she moved it slowly from one 
side to the other peering at it closely. 

"Your thing is different than my daddy's," she informed 
me. She slid her hand up and down the shaft and watched 
as my foreskin slid part way up the swollen head of my 
cock. She smiled and did it again, then again, then 
again.

It felt good, but I wanted better.

"Put it back in your mouth, sweetie!" I urged her.

She looked back up at me and smiled. She bent forward and 
returned my cock to its proper place. She slowly bobbed 
up and down on my cock. Her tongue played about the head 
and she sucked voraciously. Her father had taught her 
well. I let her have her way with me for a while and knew 
if I let her go on that I would soon be spraying the 
walls, ceiling, and floor with gobs of white.

I pulled out of her mouth and knelt down in front of 
them. I looked at Sam, who had been rubbing furiously at 
her crotch, and helped her take her clothes off.

"Lie back, honey," I told her and then bent down to feast 
on her cunt. I placed my hands under her little buns to 
raise her up and to give me better access. I ran my 
tongue up and down her slit and she moaned as I brushed 
against her sensitive little clit. I drove my tongue into 
her cunt and worked at opening it up. I managed to push 
my tongue into her and she groaned some more. I returned 
to her clit and sucked on it. Her hips were moving around 
in little jerks and I had to hold her ass cheeks tightly 
in order to continue. I focused on her clit and licked 
and prodded. Her little legs suddenly slammed shut and 
she let out a loud keening wail. 

"Daddeeeeeeee!"

She let out large gasping breaths and her body spasmed in 
response to her orgasm.

Little Debbie knelt next to us and watched wide eyed, 
breathing harshly through her mouth. I let Sam down 
gently and she curled into a little ball with her hands 
clasped between her legs. I told Debbie to lie down and 
she quickly scrambled into position and thrust her pelvis 
up at my face.

"My daddy never did that!" She announced in wonderment. 

I smiled and lowered my mouth to her little treasure box. 
I repeated my efforts with the same results. Debbie 
wasn't a wailer though and she let out a series of quiet 
little "Ohs." Her little body jerked in time with my 
licks as her orgasm washed over her and a smile played 
about her lips. She laid on her back and sighed 
contentedly. I looked down at her red and swollen cunt 
and couldn't resist. I leaned forward and brought the 
head of my dick to the mouth of her cunt.

She looked down at my cock and spread her legs wide. I 
slowly pushed and my cock slowly entered her hot, moist 
cavity. Her cunt had been well used and she took me in 
easily. She was very tight and I could feel the walls of 
her cunt clutch at my shaft as it slid by. I watched as 
four inches of my cock disappeared into her obscenely 
stretched cunt. I was amazed that it went in without more 
trouble. 

Even though I was in her it still looked like I was too 
big. I slowly pulled out and my glistening cock shaft 
slowly appeared. Her inner lips rolled out as I pulled 
out and it looked like a little mouth was sucking on my 
cock. I pushed slowly back in and then out again. I 
started pumping faster and soon had a nice rhythm going. 
I caught a motion and looked to find Sam had risen to her 
knees and was watching my cock go in and out of her 
little friends cunt. Sam sought out Mr. Banana and slowly 
lowered herself onto it.

The plastic toy quickly reached her hymen and she 
grimaced at the discomfort. She looked up at me 
pleadingly and I stopped porking little Debbie. She 
moaned at the loss of my cock as I took it out of her and 
looked up to see what I was doing. 

I moved over to Sam and she quickly laid back and spread 
her legs. She looked over at Debbie with a gleam in her 
eye and smiled. I slowly lowered myself and placed my 
cock at the entrance to her virgin cunt. 

"This may hurt, sweetie!" I informed her.

She swallowed and nodded her head. I pushed slowly and 
the head of my cock came up against a barrier. I slowly 
pushed the head back and forth to loosen her. I leaned on 
one hand and brought my other to her cunt. I rubbed my 
moistened thumb against her clit and soon she was moaning 
loudly. I kept pushing in and out and would push a little 
harder every time. 

I waited and timed it so that she was cumming when I gave 
the crucial push. Her hymen resisted for a moment and 
then gave way easily. I stopped pushing quickly so as not 
to cause her too much pain, but she didn't even seem to 
notice as she was rocked by her orgasm. Her only reaction 
had been a sharp gasp. 

I resumed my slow rocking and was soon fucking most of my 
cock in and out of her. The tight feeling was amazing and 
my cum boiled up and out of me. She was so tight that I 
felt the cum splash against the walls of her cunt. I 
moaned loudly as I shot strand after strand into her. My 
arms felt weak and my body shook. I couldn't hold myself 
up and slowly collapsed on top of her. 

Debbie giggled at the sight and soon Sam complained about 
the weight.

"Daddeee! Your heavy!"

It must be a genetic thing. I rolled over and my cock 
pulled out of her sopping cunt. It lay plastered against 
my thigh. I sighed and closed my eyes. I must have dozed 
off for a moment because the next thing I knew I was 
being awakened by a warm wetness wrapping itself around 
my flaccid cock. 

I looked down quickly and found Sam and Debbie wiping off 
my cock with a wet face cloth. They giggled as my cock 
responded to their ministrations. They finished and my 
cock stood up proud and clean. The girls giggled some 
more and then Debbie grabbed hold of it and lowered her 
mouth to it again. 

I didn't know if I could do this again and whispered, "My 
God!"

Debbie giggled and pulled her mouth off me long enough to 
tell Sam that that was the same thing her father said.

She returned to sucking my cock and soon I was awash in 
pleasure. Debbie handed off to Sam and quietly watched 
Sam practice her technique. I enjoyed both and would have 
given them high marks in the sexual Olympics. 

Debbie then informed Sam that it was her turn and she 
straddled my body. I watched as she grasped my cock and 
aimed it at her small opening. She pressed down on me and 
I slowly disappeared into her. I could still see light 
between her and I when she stopped and pulled up. She 
slid back down and struck bottom. She slowly stoked up 
and down until she got used to my size and then started 
banging away. 

She couldn't get all of me inside of her so when she 
stroked down my cock would bend at different angles. It 
was a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, but I let her 
continue. Soon, her mouth was wide open and she was 
breathing loudly. Her eyes had a glazed look about them 
and her tongue kept poking out and moistening her lips. 
She went on for a goodly while and then she started 
'oohing' quietly again as she slowed and finally held 
herself impaled on my hard cock. She pulled off and knelt 
next to me with a dreamy smile on her face. 

I was close to cumming so I reached down and started 
stroking. I closed my eyes in anticipation and suddenly 
felt a little hand grab hold above mine. I opened my eyes 
and saw Sam staring intently at my cock as she helped me. 
I let go and she looked at me and smiled. She continued 
stroking for awhile and then the precocious little thing 
bent over and took me into her mouth. I moaned loudly and 
pushed my pelvis up driving my cock deeper than she had 
anticipated. She gagged and coughed and said:

"Daddeeee!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," I consoled her, "I won't do it 
again."

She gave me a side long glance and bent back down to her 
task. She was learning quickly and each time was getting 
better. Her warm mouth slid up and down my cock in its 
hungry search of cum. I didn't want to disappoint her. I 
warned her that I was cumming and she slowed as the first 
gobs spewed into her mouth. 

Once again, this being my second load, she had no problem 
taking all of it into her mouth. She swallowed, but some 
oozed out and ran down my shaft and onto her hand. I had 
both hands on top of her head as I held it in place, 
stopping her from pulling away too soon. As the last 
vestiges of pleasure washed away I let her go and she sat 
up and smiled at me with her glazed chin.

I sat up and pulled both girls into my arms and hugged 
them tightly. I figured I'd be going to prison now and 
this would be the last chance I got to hold either of 
them. They put up with my affection for a moment and then 
Sam said she was hungry. I glanced at my watch and 
realized that it was five o'clock and one of Debbie's 
parents would be arriving soon. 

I told the girls to hurry and we all put ourselves 
together. I looked down and found a large wet spot at my 
crotch and reminded myself to take off my pants the next 
time I fucked someone. I went to my room and changed. 

I found the girls in the bathroom washing their faces. I 
told them to brush their teeth and went to put together a 
meal. 

The phone rang and I had to walk all the way to the 
bedroom to find a working phone. I picked it up and found 
Debbie's mom on the other end. She had a strange tone to 
her voice and I wondered if mother's intuition worked at 
a distance. But, I soon realized that the quality of her 
voice was more a hesitation as she told me that both she 
and her husband were running late and would it be okay. 

I realized she was still stinging from our conversation 
of the morning and I told her that it was fine. I told 
her I was about to fix dinner and that I would feed 
Debbie also and then, if she didn't mind, I would walk 
her home.

We had a pleasant meal of tomato soup and peanut butter 
sandwiches. The girls both sported red mustaches and 
brown smiles as we sat and talked about the zoo and 
school and fucking. The talk about fucking pretty much 
revolved around keeping secrets from mommies, daddies, 
and pretty much everyone else in the world. Both girls 
agreed that that would be best, but I figured I should 
keep a packed suitcase in the back of my car and should 
also look into opening an account in the Grand Cayman 
Islands.

We ate slowly amidst much giggling and story telling. I 
kept steering the conversation away form sex, hoping that 
they didn't get so used to talking about it that they 
wouldn't accidentally say something when they were with 
someone else. 

At seven I had the girls put on their jackets and I 
grabbed Debbie's little backpack. We slowly ambled down 
the street and walked up to Debbie's house. I knocked and 
her father opened the door. He thanked me profusely for 
taking such good care of his daughter. I was glad his 
porch light was burnt out because I knew I was blushing. 
The girls screamed their good bys and Sam and I wended 
our way back home.

When we arrived, Leslie's car was in the driveway. We 
walked into the house and found Leslie standing in the 
kitchen. The broken phone lie on the kitchen table and 
she had a drink in her hand. I stared at her and she 
looked back pleadingly. I took my keys off the hook and 
walked back out the door. The last thing I heard was Sam 
asking where I was going. I got into my car and drove 
away.

Finito

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not "real life." Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a 
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 23