("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `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 © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- The Reverend Joshua and His Little Emma - 2 by Sumddy (sumddy@gmail.com) *** In Chapter II the incestuous heat builds between the Reverend Joshua and his daughter, Emma, as sits in his chair smoking his pipe and watches her prepare her bath. (Mf, ped, exh, voy, inc, mast, oral, bd) *** Chapter II: The Bath 2010 Emma carried the kettles of steaming hot water one after another to the small tub in the middle of the room, the sound of the water filling the white porcelain metal basin like a rushing brook, the fire crackling and popping in the hearth. She liked the feeling of her father watching her. Her movements carrying the hot kettle back and forth, the steam filling the tub making her perspire, her thin white nightgown clinging softly to her rounds, a nightly ritual, just her and her Papa, the Reverend and his daughter together on the rural prairie farm. The night before, all alone after her Daddy had gone out to tend to the animals before nightfall, she tingled all over standing in the tub. Pouring the hot silky water over herself, the dripping sounds beneath her, being so naked and wet and soapy and warm; nude, right there in the room where her father had just been too, him just outside. Emma fantasized her soapy hands were his, slipping between her thighs, washing her, her pushing her bottom out so he could get her clean like he had when she was young. Him behind her now, now that she’d filled out, him washing her breasts, squeezing, pulling, his breath hot against the side of her face. Her father hadn’t bathed her in quite some time, and she missed that intimacy together, just her and her father, his little girl. She imagined him now, her fantasy, his growling hot whispering voice, his words now taking on a whole new meaning. “Let Daddy get you all clean, Em. Let Daddy wash you, baby. Bend over so Daddy can wash your bottom, sweetie.” She missed his big hands lathering her hair. Imagined him now, gripping her hair in his fist, the rumbling from deep within chest, his voice spilling out “Em. Oh lil baby, you’ve grown up so much, baby.” Emma imagined her father’s big hands all over her, everywhere at once, touching her, feeling her, making her so wet, so hot. “Nnn, touch me, Papa” she breathed out into the hushed cabin, strumming her soapy fingers through her little slit, “nnngggh, Daddyyy, yess, pull on my nipples, Papa” picturing her father naked behind her, her reaching back, gripping his solid hard erection in her little hand, pulling, twisting, squeezing her father’s hot throbbing cock so huge in her little hand. Emma gushed out a vibrating electric sigh, “Oohhhh god, Daddyyyyy, want, want you in me Papa.” She’d pictured the bull rutting with the young heifer. She pictured washing her father's thick swollen cock, tried to imagine it's thick throbbing hardness in her little hands, sliding her soapy little hands up and down her father's hugely hard erection. The bathing tub was barely big enough for her to sit in anymore, so she stood like Daddy did and poured water over herself at night with the water heated in the big hearth. She was lovely. Her soft round curves. Her narrow little waist. Her little bottom. Her creamy pearlescent thighs. The way she stretched and bent and leaned, her full ripe swollen hot breasts throbbing and aching to be touched. Images of her father's big hands cupping her bottom, her breasts, her soft warm pink little slit. Tending the fire for the tub water, she watched her handsome father sitting and smoking his pipe across the room just as he did each night, just within the flicker of firelight, the few lit candles next to the tub illuminating his little girl to his watchful presence. Emma smiled, and her father smiled back at her. His pipe-smoke sweet and nutty made her feel warm inside. They often went without saying a word like this, him watching her, father and daughter, spending so much time alone together: Just a simple smile full of thoughts and words and subtle meanings, immense intimacies, a gesture conveying their contentment together. They spent every evening like this after a long day on the farm, just the two of them, Emma and her Papa, taking care of each other. Emma sometimes liked to pretend she was her father’s wife, and he her husband; and, not knowing, that was what she was thinking, her father just smiled back, puffing quietly on his pipe, hot, incestuous fantasies of her, his lil Em. If only he knew his little Emma was having fantasies of him too, hot, naughty, wicked incestuous fantasies. That the devil had taken his lovely daughter over too, that she was imagining her father fucking her, sliding her nightgown up over her tender little hips, tearing her gown away, attacking her aching swollen tits. Emma felt the Reverend watch her as she bent over, and leaning further with the emptying kettle, her too large breasts leaning away from her body, her hardened nipples tingling against the material of her nightdress, she wondered if he was hard watching her. If he imagined her under her nightdress laced all the way to her long neck. She had no idea how much her body was changing, how her hormones were ablaze inside her when she caught herself pushing her bottom out, catching herself without realizing, and then remembering it’s what she saw the female animals do as the males mounted them. She shivered. The way they’d lift their bottoms, push up toward the male, lean down, open their legs, let him inside. Standing there, leaning forward pouring the water into the tub, she became acutely aware of her legs slightly spread, aware of her naked little pussy under her billowy nightdress the only thing between her and the room, between her and her Daddy, between her and her Papa’s watching, his smile from behind his pipe. It was a good thing her father couldn’t see under her nightdress, she thought, suddenly self-conscious that her father the Reverend would know her most intimate, private, and impure thoughts. Her holy Daddy, the reverend, or that he would notice her firm young breasts so swollen and tingling with excitement, that she was picturing the farm animals fucking, him, fucking her. That he would notice her glowing hot nakedness underneath her nightdress, her smooth glistening bald little pussy she’d again just rubbed smooth bare, naked and warm and soft and slippery wet, swollen, ripe, the warmth of the cabin brushing up under her nightgown, fluttering between her legs, her little pussy almost exposed as it was under the billowy thin white fabric. Maybe she should tell him now, about how the devil had been tempting her? About how wet her little pussy was, how her breasts ached, how she desired being touched, how she desired him, her own father. How she thought about him that way all the time. Maybe she should ask him to cast the devil out. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. What if Daddy thought she was bad, that she was wicked? She felt like she was bad, a wicked, naughty, dirty little girl. She shivered again. Felt conflicted. Loved the feeling of her wickedness. What if Daddy thought she had invited the devil inside her? Her father was smiling love at her, for his little girl, and here she was having such impure thoughts. Here she was flush with the heat of her breasts and nipples, flush with the heat of images of animals rutting, big hard cocks sliding into warm wet pussies, her so nude under her nightdress, her hot little cunny, that feeling again warm and buttery inside her belly. Reverend Joshua watched his little girl, her every movement, smiling, smoking his pipe, loving her, wanting her, his cock throbbing hard hidden from her view. Emma went on filling the tub, again finding herself acting out the pouring, exaggerating her leans and bends, leaning her weight forward so excited she was almost shaking, her one leg extended behind her, her hair cascading around her beautiful face hiding her glowing warm arousal, the slipperiness between her legs, her nipples throbbing hard under her nightdress. She could barely breathe. Her father in that exact moment was imagining his fingers combing through her hair, pulling her mouth to his, pushing his tongue into his little girl’s warm wet mouth. She felt beautiful and feminine in the candlelight, under her father’s gaze. She wondered if Daddy noticed. “I want him to” she purred inside. “I want Papa to look at me” she purred inside, bending and turning, again emphasizing her breasts hanging down, so firm bumping and brushing and swaying under the cotton material of her gown. “I want him, to, want me” she admitted, her breasts surging with her excitement, her nipples tingling, even aching they’d swollen so big. “Nnn, look at me Papa” she fantasized, looking up under and through her hair to see if he was. She thought she saw her Daddy’s eyes drop to her chest, but she wasn’t sure. She tingled all over. “Yesss, look at my breasts Papa, look at my nipples, nnn, Papa, they’re so, hard, Papa” she gushed under her breath, turning, moving so he could see. She felt at ease with her Daddy there, in the dark of the flickering glow of the candle and fire lit room, and she smiled at him again, bashfully, flushed, looking away blushing as she poured the steaming hot water into the tub. Blushing as the jolts of excitement her father's looks gave her, made her want, made her warm all over, her father's long hot gaze penetrating her shyness, her thin almost translucent gown, her breasts swollen and aching hot for him. She was sure she could smell herself, her sex, worried her father would smell her soft little pussy so dripping hot wet under her gown, steam rising up around her, glowing in the firelight, Emma’s breasts and neck and her face sweaty damp, she poured the last hot water from the large kettle into the wash basin. Her gown clung to the round of her belly. Her breasts sticky damp from the steam, the heat from the fire, her long shiny hair draped over her girlish-round shoulders. Aware her nipples were poking through her gown, humming, wanting her father’s hands, her father’s mouth to touch them, to lick and kiss them, to come up behind her and wrap his arms around her, to cup her throbbing swollen tits in his big hands, she turned and faced him, her hands folded in front of her squeezing her breasts out, the expectant slight smile, her soft lips, the look she gave him, that she was ready, that her bath was ready, was he going out as he did each night while she bathed? She didn’t want him to; she wanted him to look at her, to whisper in a low silent voice, to tell her to remove her gown. She pictured herself unbutton the buttons, it fall from her shoulders, spill from her, undressing her, naked and dripping hot wet, naked, there for his pleasure, his gaze, almost panting hot for her own father, her fantasied incestuous lover. Emma couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her legs together, hoping her Daddy would notice her nipples, notice that she was in trouble, that he would know what to do, offer to heal the squishy feeling there between her warm little thighs. “Nnn, Daddy, if only you knew, Papa” she hummed in her thoughts. She knew her father looked at her, sometimes longer than was comfortable, and she liked that he was. That she was naked under her gown, gave her such a thrilling feeling, so tantalizingly aroused that Daddy didn’t know the things she’d been thinking about. Her secret, her fantasies, that she’d touch herself to in private moments. She was at that age when boys would be looking at a young girl, mirroring her attractiveness. Men too, and she was learning to flirt with her Daddy. There weren’t any boys for miles around to show her those natural attentions, and Emma felt a special new tingling buzz between her legs when her father looked at her that way. She wondered if it was the same for him with no other women around. She'd push her breasts out as they talked, wanting him to look. She knew she wasn’t supposed to feel like she did, her little pussy feeling so warm the way it did, tingling and slippery, her biting her lower lip. The church-women in their tightly bound hair and bound up in their layered dresses had said it was the devil tempting her. That it was Satan’s job to put carnal thoughts into young girl’s minds, to tempt them, and they should resist his temptations with all their might. She should resist wanting to see boys naked, the looks of desire men would certainly give her, if they weren’t already. That out on the farms, so isolated, that men needed relief, and that they'd seek it from her. That they'd look at their wives, their daughters, even their sisters, have the devil's wicked thoughts. That she shouldn't do anything to tempt them. That chastity and purity was the lord's will. She wanted to say to them, that she’d been looking at her father that way, just to make the old hens fret. She noticed they looked flustered as they spoke of Satan and temptation, that they’d look away, and not look her in the eye when they told her what to expect, that their voices would become hushed, that they’d look a little, well, aroused, pretending they weren't. The old women told little Emma and the other girls she shouldn’t blame herself if she asked for help to do better, if she prayed for salvation, like they did, they blushed; but the little girl at times thought salvation might be giving in to Satan rather than opposing him. She began to believe, maybe it wasn’t Satan at all, that maybe she was supposed to feel these things, she wanted to tell them but she didn't. Emma’s body burned with these feelings. She desired the feelings often, each, and every day more, and more, and when she did they’d wash over her until she was slippery wet, her little body humming, her breasts aching for touch, for her father’s big hands, her father’s mouth. She didn’t think about other boys. She thought about her handsome father. The old women told her one day she would marry, and she and the man would procreate they said, but that she shouldn’t enjoy it, that that would be bad. That she should ask for forgiveness, that she should ask that Satan be cast out of her body, her ripe hungry body, that he be pulled from her body, from her thoughts that were his, and banished. Emma wasn’t at all sure she wanted these thoughts or the feeling to go away, not forever, not these deliciously naughty stirrings she delighted in and wanted. She thought about procreating though, her father's seed in her little belly, his big warm hand on the round of her belly. *** Emma didn't realize the fireplace light was illuminating her naked form through her nightdress as she went back and forth between the fireplace and the bathing tub right there in the middle of the room; or, that, where Daddy’s chair was, was giving him a view right through her nightdress, the firelight glowing through, a perfect almost transparent silhouette. That her father was seeing all of her, her jiggling swaying proud breasts, her perfectly round little hips, the gap between her inner thighs, the bulge of her mound. She hadn’t realized how over time he’d moved the chair across the room, opposite the fireplace, across from the middle of the room where they’d pull the tub out to for their baths, or, at least, why he had. Daddy just sat smiling, rocking in his chair, smoking his pipe, sitting in the near dark, being with his little girl in the quiet spring evening there on the farm together. The cabin’s walls of thick timbers packed with hay and mud quieted most all the outside sounds except for the crickets murmur, and the two of them alone together seemed more pronounced, more palpable than usual this evening. Emma decided she liked the feeling, being so close to her loving father, being naked under her gown in the same room with him all alone out on the farm, just her and her loving Daddy. Joshua watched his little girl cross the room, back and forth from the fire to the tub, barefoot, the balls of her bare feet tamping the wood floor as Emma’s night dress began to stick to her damp skin. He watched how the thin white cloth of her nightgown became transparent, where it stuck to her, her breasts, her hips, her bottom, her thighs. He began hoping she’d turn certain ways, that she’d lean over certain ways, almost willing his little girl to do so. The first time he’d noticed, that he could see through her nightdress he thought he should tell her, that he could see through her gown, but he didn’t. Instead, night by night, he'd moved his chair to where he could see right through her gown more than not. He grew to anticipate this voyeurism, to plan for it. He noticed her curves, how his little girl’s allure was becoming harder and harder to resist. He could almost feel her hot damp body in his hands. He was now almost beside himself desiring her. How he’d picture her underneath her gown, her nakedness, her smooth little belly, her bald little mound, her perfect softness, and his cock twitched as he imagined licking his daughter’s smooth bald little cunny. He knew she was using her mother's smooth pumice stone, like her mother had, to smooth off the hair from her legs, from her feminine places. He imagined pressing her to the cabin wall, holding her hands over her head with one hand, kissing her, their tongues entwined as he squeezed her ripe firm pale breasts with his other hand, as he slid his fingers between her legs, separated only by her damp gown as his little baby squirmed on his fingers, pressed on his fingers, whispering, “Deeper, Daddy, deeper Papa” her sweet little soft cunny so creamy slick, her belly warm- hot on the heel of his palm pressing against her pelvic bone, her mons, her bald hot little cunt. He loved his little girl, and yet he was also a man, and it had been so long, too long. He had another aching hard erection, his balls hot swollen with cum, his hugely swollen cock leaking pre-cum into his pants. He kept his throbbing erection tenting his overalls hidden from Emma’s view by resting his forearm over it, rubbing himself, moments when he’d have to fight back the urge to stand up and just take his little girl, consume her, make her his like he had now so many times in his fantasies. When he saw the gorgeous globes of her tiny bottom through the damp nightdress, her firm breasts now sweaty and plainly visible through the wet material of her soft white nightgown, that her nipples were extended, that she was flushed and exuded a radiant sexuality, everything changed for Reverend Joshua. Now he was openly looking his little girl up and down, his cock harder and harder as he rubbed himself with the underside of his forearm imagining little Emma sitting on his knee, her legs between his, her looking down into his lap between her thighs, pulling on her Daddy’s cock in her tiny hands, licking her beautiful lips, wanting to put her mouth on it, wanting to fuck her father’s hugely swollen cock in her hot wet mouth, how he’d tell her to use her tongue, to love Daddy’s cock, that it was the lord’s will. Emma looked back at him and smiled, her Daddy’s eyes suddenly ablaze, his smile heated as she poured more of the steaming hot water into the tub, the sound becoming deeper, more hollow, the tub almost full, her breasts and nipples protruding from under her transparent white gown, swaying beckoning to her Daddy’s mouth, his big hands, intentionally pressing them between her arms into the most delicious shape. She knew it was wrong to want her father, but she wanted him anyway. The Reverend reached down, subtly, and staring hotly at his little girl almost shivered with sexual energy as he squeezed the head of his cock imagining his little Emma, his tiny, little girl squeezing his cock between what were the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. Him fucking his huge hard cock between her soft young full swollen hot tits, her looking up into her father’s eyes, smiling, her mouth open, her breathing so hard, heated into a lusting frenzy, his hot hard cock fucking her tits, her leaning down capturing the head of his cock in her hot little mouth. *** The Reverend Joshua pulled the tub out for Emma as he did each evening. A ritual of them bathing, her first and then him after, using the same water, and he had offered tonight to fill her bath for her as he always did. He looked forward to her bath time, and each night hurried them toward it. Emma knew her handsome father had had a long day and she didn’t mind filling her own bath; she wanted him to be able to look at her, to let him watch her. Sometimes she’d even heat more water for Daddy’s bath, so when he returned, after she’d bathed and dried herself and had gone to bed, Daddy could just come in and begin bathing. Emma’s courtesy however wasn’t altogether selfless, any more than her father's was; he filled her bath for her so he could watch her in her gown in the firelight, taking that precious memory with him out to the barn, his little girl naked under her gown. Emma liked laying in her bed, falling asleep, after her father had come back in from the barn, listening to him bathe, hearing the water falling from her father’s head and shoulders, down his body and into the tub. She liked it when her father would take off his shirt lowering his overalls-straps over his muscular shoulders, after he’d been out in the field under the hot sun, her Daddy, sweaty, suntanned, his smell attracting her, making her want to lean in close, to breath him in, his sweaty hot masculinity. She liked looking at him. She thought he was very handsome, the most handsome man she'd known. She would take quick furtive glances at his hairy chest, his muscles. Sometimes she’d ask for a hug right then, and her father the Reverend would pick her up in his strong arms and laughing she’d wrap her legs around his waist as she lay her head on his bare chest, feel that she was still a little girl as she quieted with want and breathed him in, her pussy pressing into her father, his big hands under her bottom, her weightless in her father’s big, strong hands, his arms like thick warm straps surrounding her. Emma liked the way Daddy’s sweaty hot skin smelled, her father’s smell. She liked her hot skin on his, how it felt. She also liked to lay in her bed and watch through the thin curtain that separated her bed from the main room, thin enough that with the firelight she could see her father’s glowing naked body standing in the tub. She hurried him toward his bath each night too. *** Tonight as every night when Emma was ready for her bath, Daddy stepped out to do the last of his chores so she could bathe in private, and then while she got ready for bed behind the curtain that separated her room from the main room of the cabin, he’d heat the water for his bath. What Emma didn’t know was one night when Daddy stepped outside and was on his way to the barn, he’d passed one of the windows, and the shutter wasn’t all the way closed. Daddy saw his little girl naked and bathing, and ever since, she didn’t know he’d have to touch himself in the barn to find some relief from images of his little girl, her, bathing so close by, so utterly divinely naked. His little girl, her too large breasts on her tiny lovely little body, her nipples thrusting outward, her long hair trailing down her back, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted as the water glistened cascading over her, “a miracle” Daddy fantasized, his tiny little woman, his little girl, Emma. Daddy honestly, diligently tried to cast the devil out of himself, but to little or no avail. No matter how much he jacked his cock, no matter how often he came, the image of his little girl naked standing in the tub bathing, the well developed fantasies he had would again make his cock erect and hungry as if he hadn’t jerked off already. His little girl, so innocent, so pure he fantasized; he berated himself for desiring his angelic little Emma, for having the sexual fantasies of her that he did, the devil’s work no doubt. He couldn’t stop himself though, as he bathed, even after having pulled on his sex-deprived, long, thick, hard cock out in the barn, images of his little Emma naked that one night, images of her in bed asleep just a few feet away, would creep back into his mind and he’d get raging hot hard again. His cock standing fully erect, protruding madly out from his groin, the Reverend Joshua would finally lather his hands with soap, and while he soaped himself standing in the tub of hot water, he’d begin sliding his fist up and down his magnificently swollen hard cock. Sometimes he’d ask out loud through the curtain, “Emma, are you asleep, child’?” and when she didn’t answer, he’d close his eyes, wrap his hand around the thick hunk of his flesh hard cock and begin to stroke himself with the soap, imagining the bar her little hand, thrusting his hips into his fist with rolling abandon, his breathing loud and echoing in the little cabin, rubbing himself, jacking his thick meat, cupping his cum laden balls as he pictured his little Emma, his little girl soaping him, imagining them standing in the tub together, his bathing his little girl. Behind her, cupping her wonderfully large breasts in his big hands, her large sumptuously shaped breasts, blue-veined, pale, so, so ripe and tender hot-soft, soaping them, rubbing her puffy nipples in his fingers, rolling them, pinching and pulling on them, cleaning them. Imagining her asking him, begging him, “Daddy, clean my breasts, Papa, please Daddy" moaning, mewling ”they’re so, dirty, Papa. I’m, so dirty. Clean me Daddy, such naughty thoughts, Papa. The devil Daddy, Satin, in me, Daddy, must wash him from me Papa. So bad, Daddy. So naughty. Your... your hot, wicked little girl, Papa.” Reverend Joshua’s cock surged with heat and lust, he groaned out loud, rubbing the devil out of his daughter’s full young swollen breasts as she reached behind her and pulled on his huge cock in her little hand, to pull the devil out of him, too, together. He pictured her asleep just the few feet away behind the curtain. He came so hard, so explosively, stifling a moan, cumming silky strands of hot cum into the bath water, and then after several minutes, after his erection had quieted, he’d step from the tub, nude and dripping wet. Naked, he’d carry the tub out into the cool night and pour out the water into the dusty pathway, his way of dispossessing himself of the devil’s wickedness, his daddy-cum in his little girl’s bathwater, her damp flowery feminine womanly scent rising in the steam filling the night air, her just a few feet away asleep in her bed almost more than he could stand, in her night dress under the blankets, freshly bathed, naked, his little girl, his own daughter, his Emma. He imagined her laying on her stomach in her bed touching herself, squeezing her big breasts in her tiny, little hands which he didn’t know yet his little girl already did, licking her ow nipples thinking of his hot wet mouth, and was even now, and fantasizing she did turned him on all the more. He imagined pulling open the curtain, and seeing her there, her thin white nightdress still sweaty-damp from her bath, her flowery smell, her nightdress hiked up around those tender little hips roiling around on her fingers, her round little bottom spread open, her swollen ripe little cunt open and shiny wet, her arms under her, her fingers pumping inside her bald smooth bare naked little cunny, her little round bottom humping into the night air. The Reverend imagined himself standing there, naked, dripping wet, hot from the bath, his cock he'd just stroked in his soapy hand, his cock standing erect, him so big compared to his tiny, little girl laying on her stomach, her fucking herself with her fingers not knowing he was standing above her, that Daddy had stepped from his bath hearing his little girl’s hums and moans, Daddy and his magnificent erection watching her. Her father imagined in one motion being on top of her, his knees straddling his young daughter's slightly parted thighs, her little bottom pushed up, her little cunt swollen and gaping open, trapping her underneath him, so incredibly aroused his massively hard cock ruthlessly pushing her little fingers aside, into his little Emma’s dripping wet, ready, bald little cunt, his little girl meeting his thrusts, her fingers turning from her little pussy to massaging and tickling his balls, her crying out, “Ohhhh Papa, yes, fuck me, Daddy, fuck your little girl, your good girl, Papa.” No matter how much responsibility he felt toward little Emma, his darling sweet little Emma, Reverend Joshua didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself much longer. *** Sitting in the darkness he could see more than his little girl’s silhouette. The Reverend could see his daughter’s round firm breasts jutting out, her nipples a darker shade and puffy, swaying against the thin material of the hand-me-down white cotton gown laced all the way up to her long shiny perspiring neck. The Reverend had never witnessed a more ravishing spectacle of feminine desire. The more the steam rose and made his little girl sweaty damp, the more her night dress clung to her, the more deliciously tempting she became. His little girl looked so pure, angelic even, almost glowing with an internal radiance in the firelight, and at the same time, she had an allure, a sexual energy, of a woman far more experienced in the practice of love. He tried not to look, but he couldn’t resist. He felt that feeling again, the devil in him taking over, that masculine energy that wanted needed could have, his little girl. He could see her shadowed curves and the gap between her young thighs as the light shined between her legs from behind her; he’d bury himself in her hot little pussy, he’d lick his little girl, she’d squeal and moan and writhe under his tongue, her first tongue. He’d suck her nipples into his hot mouth. The first time her breasts had been licked, kissed, loved. He’d caress her everywhere, his hands on her back, her shoulders, the nape of her neck, her bottom, their thighs hot pressing into one another. The shadows her breasts made against the glowing nightdress made him hunger for them; he could see his little girl was completely smooth between her legs, and he was reminded of he and his sister as kids playing with each other at night after everyone else had long been asleep. The sight of his sisters’ bald little pussy still with him, how they’d swim together, rubbing under the water where no one could see, and how his lovely little cousin had fucked him, twice, when their parents naively had them sleep in the same bed. How he had been hesitant, his cock hard, naked in bed with his cousin who he’d already fucked at the last reunion picnic weekend, not sure she’d want to again, and how she’d whispered in the dark under the covers, “I want you to, I want to do it again” her warm soft skin burning into his, her hot little cunny already damp as she asked him to suck her breasts again, as she began panting and her little pussy became creamy satiny soft. As she gripped his young hard cock in her little hand, breathing harder and harder, pulling on him. “I want to suck it” she’d said. “I want it in me, again, please, Joshua. I’ve dreamt about the last time. I touch myself every night thinking about it. I love you, Joshua. Please, let me. I want to, I wa nt that big thing back inside me Joshua. It felt so good inside me.” He saw her once years later at a family occasion and there was no mention of those nights as teens in bed together. Joshua didn’t realize, the little cousin still thought about those nights, touched herself at night when her husband was asleep, thought about him when it was her husband inside her. Little did he know that so did his sister. They both watched him that day, at a distance, the one not knowing about the other, him a Reverend now, to their regret, and to his he reluctantly admitted to himself. Emma wasn’t much older than they had been, but Joshua in all his years had never seen breasts like his little Emma’s on a young woman her age. Her breasts were so ripe, so full and round for her tiny petite thin little frame, so big on his little girl, and he knew he shouldn’t but he wondered if she touched them, if she pulled on her nipples at night alone in her bed, if she tried to suck on them. The thought made him hard. He imagined his wife’s breasts, if they were as large as Emma’s at her age; she’d told them they were, that she’d sucked them alone at night in her bed when she was young. He wondered if his mother’s were that big at Emma’s age. He’d jerked off so many times thinking of his little girl’s breasts, her nipples, how in his fantasies he’d show his little girl the pleasures of the flesh, how he’d suck her nipples into his warm wet mouth and draw little circles over cunny until she squirmed under his touch, panted, ground her soaking wet, creamy little cunny on her father’s fingers, "Don't stop Daddy, don't ever stop" she'd whisper in his fantasy. How she’d ask him to let her suck his cock. Joshua stopped suddenly, catching himself, being carried away by the devil. *** His wife had been gone now for years now, died of the flu that swept through the rural farmlands in the 70’s, and thinking of her, the way she used to suck his cock so lovingly, worshipping his huge erection, Reverend Joshua’s cock got steely hard watching his little Emma fill the tub. He anticipated going outside as he did most evenings to the barn, and tonight he’d jerk off again to images of his little girl. This evening he prolonged getting up to go out before she bathed savoring the images of her silhouette through her night dress, images he wanted to remember. Emma sensed her father taking her in, and shifted her weight such that she felt the slipperiness between her young little thighs, lusting after images of her father’s cock from when he was bathing. His little girl, just over five feet tall, as tall now as her Grandma Rose, her beautiful eyes looking up at him, her head bent back, her gown so loose around her, her breasts pushing out the material of the virginal white gown, her thin little frame seemed even tinier. Images of her standing before him, speaking in her soft little voice, almost whispering, "Do you want to see me, Papa? I want you to, Daddy, to see me naked. I want you to to touch me, Papa. I want you, to, suck on my breasts Daddy." The more her nightdress clung to her damp skin, the more it revealed her petite little body, that she had nothing on underneath, the harder her father became imagining balancing his little girl on his burning hot prick, his big hands under her gown, his big hands wrapped around her tiny waist, raising and lowering her on her Papa’s incestuous erection, his own little lover, his own little girl, Emma. Each time Emma poured water from the kettle into the tub, her father watched his little girl bending over, pictured himself raising her gown up over her little hips, “Put it in me again, Papa” the underside of his big daddy-cock against her back, against the small globes of her bottom, “Ohhh, Papa.” His big cock sliding in and out of her tiny, little pussy, how she’d have to raise one leg, press her bottom out to him to accommodate him inside her. “Mmmm my lil baby, so soft, so tight wrapped around Papa’s big cock” he’d growl. How he’d wrap his fingers around her tender little hips, and fuck his little Emma, his little girl, his own daughter, his incestuous little lover, how she’d want him to again, and again. He imagined how she’d stop wearing undergarments, was so he could have her whenever he wanted, whenever she wanted, and she did want him, often. How she’d just raise her skirts and look at him, signaling she wanted his cock in her little cunny again, just the two of them alone out here on the farm. Father and daughter, fucking, planting his seed in his little girl’s belly. Mating with his own daughter, her bearing him children. Joshua felt his cock surge under his overalls. Images of filling his little girl with his daddy-cum. His balls churned with want, pre-cum leaking out and he imagined little Emma in her clinging gown stroking his thick hard cock in her tiny, little hands. He imagined her breasts pressed together through her gown, her tiny hands moving up and down making her breasts quiver and shake, her loose fingers wrapped around her own father’s hugely hard cock, her looking at it, and up into his eyes back and forth, her mouth open, the awe of sexual enticement, the allure of making a man’s cock hard, how hard and throbbing in her little hands she made him, made her wet, her breathing loud and irregular, in a spell. He imagined Emma on her knees in front of him in his chair, her tiny hands stroking him up and down faster and then slower, savoring her father’s cock, both her little hands wrapped around his thick throbbing meat. “Do you like that, Papa?” she’d tease. “My little hands on your big cock, Daddy? Your little girl jacking your huge daddy-cock? Nnn, Daddy, your big cock is dribbling cum, Papa. Let me taste it, Daddy. Mmmnnn, Daddy, love how you taste.” So heavy, so fat, the head so bloated and pale and purplish-red and dripping with pre-cum all over her tiny, little hands. “Cum in my little mouth for me, Papa” she whisper. Her studying the pulsing veins, her biting her lower lip, her just staring at it. Him leaning down to his little girl's lips, and kissing her, their tongues in each other's mouths, his heated breath pouring over his little girl “Nnnn, Daddyyy” as she pulled on her Daddy’s cock in her soft tiny hands in the dark of the firelight, as he whispered hotly, “Good girl, pull on Daddy, Em, you make Daddy feel so good, lil baby.” Reverend Joshua knew how much women loved to handle a man’s cock, to make him hard. How they loved how big he was, how it made them desire him. How being endowed ran in his family. How much they loved to make him cum. He knew his cock would have the same effect on his little Emma. The same effect she had on him. Rising forward to stand, he looked up at Emma announcing unexpectedly "I better go out and check on the mare, Emma," his hand flat over the now huge bulge in his overalls, the head of his cock poking through the material at his waist rubbing his wrist as he walked, trying to hide his heated arousal from his virginal little girl appearing to him like a sexual goddess in her clinging white gown. His cock didn’t want to leave. Emma was startled, she was so completely in the moment, her father’s hot stare, her acting for him, bending and leaning, that fluttering feeling she’d come to love so much. Just before her Daddy stood, she saw him look at her the way the bull looked at the cow that morning as it approached the heifer. Her little cunny felt warm and damp and then slippery wet. She felt an instant sense of alarm, then surrender, prepared, and now, a frustrated momentary sense of disappointment as her father got up and announced he was going out to the barn. She recalled watching the bull mount the girl cow, how that huge thing slid so easily inside her quivering sex, and the way she took it, and Emma blushed hotly as she looked into her Daddy’s eyes. Just as he turned and went out the front door of the timber thick cabin, so isolated and protective, another flash went through her mind, her own father sliding inside her swollen wet little pussy. Him taking her just like the bull took the young heifer so miserably in heat. Her moaning out, “Don’t go, Daddy, Don’t leave me like this. Nnngggg, Daddyyyy, so hot, Papa” just like the young heifer. “Fuck me, Papaaaa, ngggg, yessss!” she’d hiss, her pussy spreading, stretching open, the gash of her pink sex dripping hot wet. Her father’s aching hard incestuous meat deep in her fertile young belly. The image shone through her imagination, her father getting her pregnant, his child in her belly, and Emma sucked in her breath, her pussy quivering hot. Watching him as if outside herself, her simmering breasts in his big hands as she pleaded with him, “Suck on them, Daddy, please, mmm, Papaaaa, nnnnnnnuh, yess, slide it in me, Papa. Feel me, Papa. Cum in me, Daddy, give me your baby, Papa. Suck the milk from my breasts, Daddy. Ohhhh, Papa, yesss.” Emma’s nipples ached. Just as quickly, startled that he left, and why, she talked herself out of her fantasy, telling herself Daddy wouldn’t want me like that. She tried to convince herself, he’s a man of god, and I’m his little girl. She felt bad, wicked. At the same time little Emma had seen the big lump in Daddy’s overalls, how high up in his overalls the tip was, high up and behind his wrist, and she knew what it was. Did I give Daddy that? Maybe the devil is in Daddy, too, she worried. Maybe I need to help him. Maybe he doesn’t realize. She felt a little scared but also very excited, and again tried to regain her senses. Impressions of her father cock buried deep inside her, his baby in her, his cum pouring from between her young legs, from her gaping pink wet slit. She almost moaned out in heat into the empty cabin, flushed and hot with lusting frustration. Emma’s bald little pussy naked under her nightdress tingled and pulsed and itched deep inside. She must be imagining it, her father’s huge cock jutting up under his overalls, her father’s cock, rock hard, so big, because of her. The steam and the heat of the fire is making me imagine things, she thought to herself. Her little body and her intuition though, said the exact opposite. She wanted the exact opposite. She couldn’t not remember and not see that image of her father bathe from behind the curtain as she lay in bed that night. That huge thick thing poking up under his overalls, the big rounded head under his wrist, that thing that was sticking straight out from his body in the firelight, the shadow on the curtain, how she reached out and caressed the shadow on the curtain. She wanted it. She wanted to wrap her fingers around it. She wanted to kiss it, and propping herself up in the bed, she had leaned forward and kissed the shadow of her father’s cock on the curtain. She had almost fallen asleep as she did every night as her Daddy prepared to take his bath, and when she heard him she opened her eyes but she was too sleepy to respond when he called her name, “Emma, are you awake, lil baby?” and because she could see him through the curtain, him standing in the tub, and because she could see what was sticking out between his legs. It was huge, she thought, just like the bull’s, big around, thick, long, ruggedly rigid hard, beautiful. “Ohhh Papa, it’s so, so big, Papa” she gushed under her breath at her father’s shadow on the curtain, reaching her little fingers to it. It seemed as big for her Daddy’s body, as her breasts were for hers, as the bull’s was going into the cow, and Emma again felt the wash of the familiar slippery wetness that gushed between her soft little thighs. She watched her father through the curtain pull on that huge thing between his legs, “Nnnn, Papa, let me, wash you” she whispered, picturing her little hands sliding soapy up and down his raging hard cock, his head back, his mouth open, his breathing louder and louder. She slid her hands down her sides and hiked up her nightdress, “Let me use the soap Papa” to slide her fingers into her creamy wet little cunny. She thought she heard him say her name, “Ohhh, lil baby, Em, yesss, touch Daddy” and it excited her so much she almost came. She thought he must be trying to get the devil out of himself. That she should too. Emma spread her girlish thin legs, raised her knees up to her elbows, and imagined her Daddy was the big bull, and she was the heifer, imagined her father on top of her guiding that huge thing between his legs into her tiny bald little cunny, as he glided inside her, as he fucked her, and she spread her legs even more, reached up and pinched both her nipples imagining they were her Daddy’s big fingers touching her as his big prick slid inside her. She imagined Daddy’s quiet-gravelly voice, “You like Daddy’s prick, don’t you Em” and her mesmerized reply, “Yessss, Daddy, in me Daddy, I love it, in me, Papa” and her father’s reply, “and Daddy love’s my little Emma, Daddy loves being inside my little girl, sliding Daddy’s hard cock into my little Emma, my little girl, my daughter, hard for my little Emma, you make Daddy so hard, lil baby” as she imagined him kissing her, the taste of her little pussy on his lips. *** Standing at the edge of the tub Emma undid the lace string of her gown and remembered how she got slippery between her legs watching the bull move his hips, almost instantly. How she got so wet watching her father in the bath a few nights before, how she almost fainted when she saw him begin to put soap on it, as he began to pull on it. “Nnnnn, papaaa” she wanted to wash her Daddy, for him, she wanted to soap him, rub him, slide her hands on him, stroke him, jack his huge cock for him, “let me, help, Papa.” Her little hands tingled, felt hot and damp as she licked her lips, tasted herself again. She scolded herself, knowing it was the devil getting back inside her. She just had to find a way to get the devil out, or to surrender to him, and as she untied the last ribbon of her undershirt, looked at the huge thing she’d pulled from under her mattress, the huge wooden phallus that had been her Grandma Rose’s, her work dress rumpled on the floor at her feet, her body glowing hot, alive, her little cunny slippery wet with anticipation, every nerve in her body was on fire as she kissed the wooden cock. A feeling of release and freedom and sexual excitement filled her every pore as she murmured into it, hot and hard on her lips, “Need you in me, Daddy, in my mouth, in my little pussy, to fuck me Papa, fuck me with that huge thing, fuck me Daddy. Ohhh god, Daddy, want to touch it, Papa, let me, touch it. I want to kiss it Papa, want to feel it in my little hands” and thinking of how she put the wooden phallus in her mouth, she sucked in her breath at the image of it being her father’s cock. “Let me, suck you, Papa” she breathed out. “Please, Papa. Want you, in my mouth, Papa” she said aloud into the empty cabin, sliding her curling fingers into her creamy wet dripping hot pink little slit, and then the head of the huge wooden phallus, pushing it inside her, gasping out of breath, the big wooden head spreading her open. Next : Chapter III: Reverend Joshua Walks in on Emma *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 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 system. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 70