("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006. 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. -------------------------------------------------------- Emma by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com) *** Even in the best families, you never know what secret lives are being played out. Sometimes confessing to a stranger seems like a good idea! (Mf, ped, inc, 1st, mast, rom) *** I received this "confession" if you like, from a man in Western Australia just last week. He refers to himself as "Phoenix" and in subsequent emailed communication, has given me permission to reproduce his story here, although I have where indicated, corrected his grammar, and punctuation as well as amending his sometimes unsupported phraseography. He is not proud of his accomplishments and readily admits to being weak, if not a slave to lust. My guess is that he is just one of many fathers - some who have acted on their impulses - many more who would dearly like to. I have not submitted this that he should be judged one way or the other. It is simply a case-study as might be deemed "Harper Valley" itself. Strictly on account of the girl's tender age, some readers will find the unfolding events reprehensible - others possibly tantalising. It is after all, much like beauty itself - somewhat in the eyes of the beholder! Herewith his communique. "Dear Pan, Reading many of your stories, one in particular - "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" struck a chord with me. I have assumed this tale is true mainly because the feelings you describe, mirror to some extent, the experiences with my own very young daughter here in suburban Perth. I am sure you love your daughter/s dearly and you must know how easily things can get out of hand. I have had a fixation I suppose you would call it, with Emma ever since she was eight or nine. I have managed to keep my feelings from my wife (Emma is an only child) and I am sure she had never suspected a thing. It would destroy our marriage and obviously her trust in me if she ever found out the truth, but I have desperately wanted to confess my desires and lately - actions - just to vindicate myself in some small way. Of course, I can never do that. In writing to you, I am in part clearing my conscience by openly sharing with many readers (if you do decide to reproduce this) my weakness and paternal downfall. Emma has just turned eleven and what I am about to tell you started when she was little more than nine. No pun intended, but I suppose you could call me a hands-on father. I had helped out with Emma's upbringing right from the start. Changed as many diapers as her mom and fed her just as often. From babyhood I had bathed her, washed and dried her hair, dressed her and all the things so many fathers should do but haven't the time or inclination to fulfil. Not surprisingly a strong father-daughter bond developed and during her pre-school period she would always find some excuse to "snuggle up with daddy" late nights. Susan didn't care - her sleep on the far side of the bed wasn't disturbed! Throughout these years I never once had a sexual thought about Emma - she was just my beautiful little girl that I could never wait to get back home to. As a family, we scaled the heights of contentment and loving interaction. I remember precisely the day something insinuated itself into my subconscious. I had taken Emma to one of those kids' playgrounds in a neighboring park while her mom got dinner ready. Having always push-started her on the swings, at eight now and with a growing independence, she wanted to do it all by herself, insisting I stand in front of the swing to watch her progress. It was I think her third down-swing when a gust of wind blew her skirt up just marginally. Uninhibited and without any real sexual awareness at that age, the fact that her panties were fully displayed momentarily caused her not a second's thought. She made not even the least attempt to preserve a degree of modesty, such that any teenager would most certainly have seen to. That delightfully exposed triangle of light-blue cotton undies, triggered something in my frontal lobes that had lain dormant all these years. I was privy suddenly to something other than my eight-year old daughter on that swing, and even as I smiled my appreciation of her new trapeze-like skills, my mind was riveted on areas of Emma's anatomy that might best be termed inappropriate! When shortly after, she was wanting me to push her again, I found myself gazing with unfettered delight at that compact young bottom nestling there on the seat of the swing. My hands encircled those firm little cheeks as they had done so many times before, though now incurring a delightfully new sense of tactility. I ached to see her sans that tight little skirt. Emma giggled as I pushed her yet higher, as innocent and blissfully unaware of her father's decadent thoughts as only a child can be. I found myself studying her closely as we walked home. The way those pretty blonde curls danced around her shoulders, the softness of her tiny hand as it nestled lovingly in mine. The girlish features as she would look up at me with that expression of childlike trust and affection. And what was my contribution that day? Simply to glance at her top taking in the temporary flatness of her chest and the image of those soon to be swollen nipples within. Her very lack of development in that area, I found to be of considerable arousal itself. How might she react to being licked there even at this stage I wondered? before chastising myself for such wickedly left-field contemplations. In the following weeks, although I did nothing overtly inappropriate, I THOUGHT plenty. Mainly I suppose, how I might get to see Emma's panties on a more regular basis. As it happened, opportunity presented itself within days. Invited to a friend's birthday party, Susan had bought Emma a couple of new dresses. I was just putting the finishing touches to the pasta creation I had been working on, when I was called upstairs. "Emma's not sure which dress looks best honey," Susan said, as I walked in. My nether regions stirred with unprovoked interest as I stared at our beautiful daughter, looking years older in that velvety flounced outfit with pretty lace edging. Emma smiled at me and muttered "What do you think daddy?" If I had told her what I was thinking right then, Susan would have been tossing up which to call first - her attorney or 911. I just sat down in the chair alongside her work-desk and said "You look like an angel sweetheart." "Can I show daddy the other dress?" she gabbled excitedly to my wife who then to my total and everlasting shock, helped her out of the velvety creation, leaving her standing momentarily right there before me, in simply a pair of skimpy little white bear-print cotton undies. If I had been forced to stand up for whatever reason - questions would most definitely have been asked. For the briefest moment, as Emma held her arms skywards for her mother to slip the other dress over her head, my retinas were subjected to the murderously hot aspect of two tiny but noticeably puffy pre-teen nipples as they adorned an otherwise flat but fully girlish little chest. Following adjustments to the hemline, sleeves and shoulder straps - a vision of under-age temptation stood before me awaiting the verdict. Well Nadia Comeneci may have scored a perfect "10" all those years ago, but in terms of judging poise, beauty and feminine perfection - Emma would have consigned her to the support team! "That one honey" I said, "Trust me on this!" All the way to the party and back, my mind was a maelstrom of unholy images. My hands itched to smooth their way up between her slim legs where so rich and innocent a prize lay hidden beneath its cotton guardian. My warped perspective allowed me the luxury of imagining the feel of those tiny nipples as I caressed them outside her dress as she urged me on to even greater daring. "You seem very distracted tonight," Susan's statement dissolved the mirage instantly. "Nah, just a thinking about work," I lied effortlessly. I knew I had crossed the line and I didn't even care. The first recorded "contact" as we may as well term it, occurred a week or so later. The circumstances brought to mind immediately, your story entitled "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear." Having said prayers with Emma she was about to pull up the covers when she remembered something she had to put in her backpack for school the next morning. She was still fussing around at the foot of the bed, her shapely little butt teasing the life out of me as she tried forcing a couple more books into the flap when I said "C'mon cheeky face, hurry up and get into bed." So saying I gave her a playful little smack flush on her bottom. At that second she spun around and the look she tossed me was both questioning and evocative in ways I couldn't immediately describe. "That's naughty daddy," she laughed, but something in that cute expression took her meaning to another level. "Was not she wanting me to do that again?" I couldn't help thinking. Tucking her in, I kissed her on the forehead and left the room. An hour later, mid some quite passionate lovemaking, Susan whispered "What's gotten into you tonight?" I figured it was best I didn't tell her! The evening then came, that I found myself nuzzling Emma's neck as I kissed her goodnight. It was only for a second or two but long enough for me to know that she wanted it. The next night I kissed her a little longer and the night after that I kissed her lips. I was on a roller-coaster to somewhere and we hadn't even hit that first big drop yet. A few nights later, after prayers Emma turned onto her tummy and looking at me with what I could only translate as "expectation," whispered "Good night Daddy - I so love you." She had never added those last four words and it rocked me momentarily...they didn't come across somehow as the innocent outpourings of a nine year old (that she now was) Right then my arm was around her waist and for some reason I felt impelled to seek out more intimate contact. I allowed my hand to rest up on her curvy little bottom. Far from objecting to my borderline indecency, the brief wriggling of her hips suggested she liked the familiarity. "I love you too darling," I whispered, kissing her whilst smoothing my hand across her rear-end and fully aware now that this was meeting with her complete approval. I almost raped Susan to death that night. It was only a matter of time. For several nights I had been holding her firstly around the hips, then the waist, then higher up. The night in question (and I had resolved to make my play this night whatever the cost) my hand first encroached upon her upper chest. I felt her stiffen slightly but as my palm came to rest across that vaguest of swellings I knew it had been worth it. "Ohh Daddy," she whimpered, pulling me to her, those sweet-tasting lips seeking out contact with my own. I kissed her harder and longer than ever I had, all the time smoothing my fingers across her PJ top, beneath which those girlish nipples could just be felt. She brought up her own small hand and laid it across my own, eyes willing me to maintain the contact. "We shouldn't be doing this sweetheart," I involuntarily mumbled. "Please forgive me," I made as if to leave. "Don't go daddy," she pleaded...."I won't tell anyone, I promise....I just love you doing that...it feels really nice." She wasn't far wrong! "Can I just slip my hands underneath?" I whispered, never for a second expecting her acquiescence. At the point she nodded and looked up at me with those pretty eyes inviting further carnality I just slipped a hand up beneath her top and discovered a tiny island of uncharted land-mass - two actually. Manipulating that indescribably pleasurable teat between thumb and forefinger, I watched as Emma first gasped with surprise then began wriggling with unhinged delight, her eyes betraying the pleasure her nine-year old body was experiencing. As for me... what lay now between my own legs was a penile ramrod of hitherto unexperienced solidarity. "You are just so beautiful Emma," I muttered goofily, not entirely sure how long I could hang on to my sanity here. Rather then engage in further pointless epithets I lowered my face and began kissing her lips passionately... all the time fondling, rubbing and gently pulling on her nipples. Her lips it must be admitted, met mine with an equal fervor. "Can daddy see?" I murmured. My eyes directing her gaze to the buttons of that top. "Uh huh," she responded, arms now up over her head. She looked up at me teasingly. Even as I undid that last button and drew aside her top, I could feel her stiffen with anticipation. The stiffening I myself was undergoing, doesn't bear mention. I suppose they were erect but all I could see was the perfection of nature's handiwork. Prominent but tiny nipples atop the merest hint of a mound either side of her sternum trembled with her increasing respiratory rate. Leaning forward slightly, I inclined my face to her right nipple and kissed the softness there. Emma's sudden intake of breath betrayed the young girl's probable confusion. An instinctive understanding that what her father was doing was wrong but an equally natural response to the newly discovered pleasures his lips were bestowing on so sensitive an area. Unable to call a halt to proceedings as I knew I must, I began to draw down on Emma's nipple and the sighs of pleasure issuing from her palpably young lips filled me with even greater desire. I sucked deeply as my hand involuntarily worked its way to the elastic of her pyjama pants. It was the contact with this, her last line of defense, that recalled some degree of parental responsibility. Withdrawing both my hand and my lips I got to my feet, drawing the two halves of her top together as I did so. "What's wrong daddy?" she asked, "Have I done something wrong?" "Oh God Emma," I replied, "Of course not, I just think its better if daddy goes to his own bed now sweetheart... mommy is probably wondering why I've been so long." She looked up at me with that angelic smile of hers - it melted my heart. "Can you kiss me like that again tomorrow night?" she asked with such heart-wrenching innocence I wondered how I was ever going to leave the room. "Yes darling of course I will," I told her. "It will be our little secret - just something for you and I to share forever cheeky-face." She was still staring up at me lovingly, even as I reached the door. This ritual was to be repeated the next couple of months and despite my burgeoning need to slip a hand down inside her panties, and seek the Holy Grail of perverted desire, I managed to content myself with suckling both her undeveloped breasts that she would now freely expose to me nightly without even being asked. On more than one occasion I would enter her room to hear some crazed giggling, only to discover her snuggled up under the sheets fully topless. Running my hand the length and breadth of her pyjama- clad bottom became part of our sex-play although that last bastion of little-girl modesty - her PJ pants, had yet to be lowered. It was a few weeks later that Emma herself seized the initiative during a particularly arousing nipple sucking session. Pausing as always at that smooth ribbon of exposed skin between her pants and top she whispered quite without provocation "Do you want to put your hands in my panties daddy?.....you can if you like" I almost bit her nipple in shock. "Are you sure darling?" I asked tentatively. "Daddy really would like to if its OK with you." That heat-seeking smile drew me to her and slipping my hand beneath the elastic of her PJ bottoms I was on my way to Hell all right. Rather than enter the Holy of Holies first up. I allowed myself the luxury of simply smoothing over her panties right to the point they curved down between her slim legs. Rubbing her softly there, I heard the onset of a moan - not a fully fledged adult groan - more a sigh of expectant pleasure. "Does that feel nice Emma?" I whispered. She simply nodded. I could feel now the outline of her tiny pussy and the cleft of her wholly innocent little vaginal lips. As I pushed in a fraction, I felt her wriggle her hips in encouragement. That I definitely did not need! Backing up the requisite few inches I slipped my hand inside her panties. I was finally doing it... feeling- up my nine-year old daughter. Thing is though it was most definitely with her consent - not that the Courts would have been taking that into account I realise. As I cupped her pussy, Emma spread her legs, enough that I could slip my index finger between her labia and enter her tiny receptacle. "Tight" does not adequately cover it. We're talking strictly a "No Entry" sign! It was enough though and able to caress gently her developing clitoral hood, I was in hog heaven as I fingered my little girl's pussy stupid. I don't think Emma came close to an orgasm... I wasn't trying for such... but the sensations afforded her sexy little body that night had her respiratory rate nudging the red-line and her hips thrusting every which way. I had in fact to leave her a short time later to go and relieve myself in the bathroom. I only just made it! "Our little secret" it may have been, but it wasn't enough. Nirvana never is, is it? Working from home simply aided and abetted our clandestine get-togethers. Home from school at least an hour and a half before Susan was back from her legal firm, afforded me and Emma the time we needed to push even further back the boundaries of social acceptance. No sooner would she be home, than I would whisk her off to her bedroom for all manner of indecent pleasures. Having her pose topless on her bed while I suckled her breasts - both of which, once she turned ten, were noticeably rounding out nicely, was a standing request. I could hardly fail to note either her introductory cleavage which the purchase of her first training bra highlighted to perfection. Happy to walk around for me in just that skimpy little bra and panties I would ask her to then sit on my knee whilst I fondled her nipples and kissed her silly. She never failed to gasp as I slipped a hand inside her panties and proceeded to finger that needful little slit while she wriggled her curvy little butt all over my lap, thereby laying siege to my own unfulfilled equipment. "Am I making you hard daddy?" she would giggle as my agonies multiplied. So much for Sex-Ed! It progressed to play-spanking her, stripping her outright, laying her on the bed quite naked whilst I licked her pussy until she was begging me not to stop. It was only a matter of time naturally until she experienced that first wondrous orgasm. I can still see that expression of sheer ecstasy on her pretty face as the shock-waves radiated outwards from her openly abused but wholly contented pussy. And Susan never suspected a thing, although twice we lost track of time and I was still sucking those arousing little breasts and fingering her stupid even as my wife pulled in the driveway. Emma though, carried it off without so much as a hair seemingly out of place. I lived for the following day and the school bus pulling up just two doors down from our front gate. For more than eighteen months now Emma and I have transgressed most every social dictate there is. All but one of course To sicken you further, let me admit to the most damning of eventualities. I am completely in love with her, needing only now to consummate that incestuous reality. As I said, she is now eleven...and as it happens, Susan will be interstate all weekend! Regards, "Phoenix" (c) Peter_Pan 2006 "The Complete Harper Valley" www.lulu.com/content/106537 Visit also "The World of Peter_Pan" http://www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/intro.html *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 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. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 44