Oh impossible sweet home for my stiff shaft of flesh,
yet your tiny hole between two hairless puffs opens for it.
Progress hurts you, my little blonde angel,
your sweet blue-eyed face beneath me pained.
For this, I am sorry.

I run a hand through your hair, over your little skull,
and were you taller I would be kissing your mouth.
But I knew our wedding night would be a challenge thus,
and I carefully push thick hips between tender short legs.
Open them wide, I gently say.

Slowly I stab-stab my top two inches
in a narrowness which clams and drags my skin.
It hurts me too, I say, exaggerating
a little and gasping over your cute young head.
Gotto fuck this little girl, my brain rages.

Your sobs are a bitter-sweet melody to me,
my husky adult sighs harmonizing it.
I tossed off the covers to better see
your fragile flat white form I'm loving.
Moreover, to see my grown one fucking it.

Your little feet around my back,
you're such a good brave girl I moan.
On my elbows, my big strong groin
pushes precise on your tender small vulva.
Half a penis rhythmically fucks it.

Your sapphire eyes are watery and distressed,
this not so easy as our earlier loving,
but now is not a moment I can stop.
"It's okay, my darling, nearly done."
Balls, cock - all of me clenches.

You don't understand why I'm gasping and groaning,
erratic and crazy as if I'm ill.
But I expect, sweetie, you will learn to connect it
with the thick hot flow passing into you now.
Oh God, I've fucked your child-vagina!

I roll off my wife of a day,
my hand still on your head, soothing your tears.
I do so want you to enjoy our love,
in as many of its forms as possible.
Just understand now, that this was affection.

Mostly semen, a little blood down there.
You 'll be okay, you did wonderful my sweet.
Our mismatched sizes is nought but a hurdle,
to be overcome with practise, patience and time.
You're only eight years old, after all, Amy.