I HELD HER HAND tightly feeling it grow cold. Looking into her familiar eyes my sight blurred, tears welling and pressure growing in my sinuses. She smiled faintly, weak and still so brave.

"It's okay, Jim. I'm not scared," she whispered.

"But I am," I replied softly, gripping her ever colder hand tightly. My heart froze when her beautiful blue topaz eyes lost focus. I breathed again when my love came back to me.

"Don't be scared. Ellie needs you," she whispered.

"Do you believe in heaven?" I asked, trying to distract us both from the inevitable, now so close.

Mary smiled slightly. "I do."

"Do you believe you'll see all and know all in heaven, everything answered?" I asked, squeezing her hand.

My wife nodded yes slightly, her eyes studying me.

"Will you forgive me when you see the truth of me?" I asked.

"Always," she whispered faintly and tried to smile. Her chest strained. The beep-beep of monitors played an ugly intrusive noise in the background reminding me where I was, the situation, the desperateness and futility of my agony.

My heart clenched when her eyes lost focus again. I bent near, my cheek against hers. "I love you, always," I whispered.

The slightest grip from her cool hand in mine was her only response and my tears finally fell as life departed those beautiful blue topaz eyes that had loved me unconditionally for so long, her hand falling limp. The ugly continuous drone of life-measuring monitors filled the room announcing my arrival in Hell.

Ellie looked up at me from the plastic chair in the hall, her pretty face full of questions and fear. I couldn't stop tears from falling. I couldn't find false bravery. She took one look at me and started shaking her head. "Noooo," she cried out in agony and burst into tears, jumping up and throwing herself at me. I held my little girl tight. She was my lifeline, the only thing left worth living for.

To the sounds of innocence sobbing - my nine-year-old wracked in a pain she should never have had to experience - and unable to help her or take her agony away, my heart shattered permanently. Numbness descended. It was more than I could handle.

Living became immensely difficult.

Ellie held onto me for dear life in the taxi bearing us home. I left our car behind, my tears and agony making driving impossible. She cried her soul out, her face buried into my neck, deep wracking sobs that tore at my heart. No words would do. No actions would help my child. I could only hold her tight.

The house was dark and empty, coldly echoing our loss back at me, ghostly memories of her voice and laughter filling the air and making a house a home. Carrying Ellie upstairs, I let her down onto her bed gently. She moaned and hugged refusing to let me go. Too drained to think I collapsed onto her twin bed fully dressed, kicked my shoes off, and hugged my child tightly.

My mind tortured me relentlessly, hurling images and memories at me. Tears fell silently and I prayed for just a moment's peace, just a brief respite, a period of grace so I could catch my breath and displace the hitch in my throat, the agony in my chest, and the pressure in my brain.

Ellie quieted down in my arms. I concentrated on her breathing, nothing but her breathing. My universe was her gentle breathing, its rhythmic cadence, its soft gentle beauty, a child alive in my arms, my little girl; my lifeline.

Morning light woke me. For one brief, wonderful but fleeting moment memory failed me and I was holding my wife, my love, my partner. Reality crashed in and a wave of heavy burden crushed down on me. Sinuses blocked. A lump grew in my throat. Tears were hovering when Ellie stirred, perhaps wakened by my sudden tight hug.

She lay quietly for a minute or two before she started shaking, tears returning, loss a pain no child should suffer. I had no idea what to do. Life didn't prepare me for this. No one explained how to heal a young daughter's soul.

Feeling helpless and useless and frustrated and wanting to cry out in anger, I hugged my little girl and did the only thing I knew how; I murmured softly into her ear, sweet nothings, words of love, letting the gentle sound of my voice remind her she wasn't alone in the world.

For three weeks I lived in a fog of numbness, participating in but detached from the world. Through funeral arrangements, lawyers, insurance companies and an endless stream of caring friends - a testament to Mary's vivacious personality - Ellie clung to me either at my side or in my arms. We were inseparable.

Another numb month passed.

Food tasted like sawdust. I lost weight and worried about Ellie endlessly. By rote she ate, slowly, almost robotically, her gentle blue topaz eyes empty. When conscious thought returned to her I knew it. Tears would gather in her sweet eyes and tumble, my heart would break yet again, and together we'd hug and cuddle and fight against the barren hopelessness that assaulted our psyche like endless waves of an angry ocean battering the shore.

Ellie refused to bathe or brush teeth alone. Only with my presence would she do the most basic of hygiene; shower or go to the toilet. She was numb, staring at me with big eyes echoing emptiness that scared me to death. I prayed for her return.

Every night Ellie would cling to me refusing to be left alone. Every night we slept together in her narrow bed. I held her tight as if tightness would leave insufficient room in her small body for nightmares to take hold. It never worked. They came and punished a small child at her most vulnerable moment, asleep, and wreaked havoc on both of us, her sudden plaintive cries, "Mommy!" breaking my already broken heart.

In the mornings she'd cry silently in my arms, "I hurt so much, Daddy." Pain gradually turned into fear, "I'm so scared. Don't leave me too, Daddy," and my psyche was stressed to beyond its limits. I could no longer think clearly. I plunged into a hell of helpless pain unlike anything I'd experienced in my lifetime.

But life moves on, incapable of standing still. Time heals all but the worst of wounds and time touched Ellie every day. Nightmares faded slowly. Eating resumed. She began paying attention to the television instead of just staring, although joy still eluded her.

And one morning, one wonderful morning, Ellie woke up and twisted around in my arms. She kissed my cheek softly and, when I opened my eyes, she blinded me with her smile. "Morning, Daddy. I'm hungry."

"Morning, sweetheart," I answered with a smile. Inside me I rejoiced. Inside I thanked God for giving my little girl a taste of happiness again. In her smile I found a state of grace. Squeezing her tight I kissed a soft cheek, inhaling the calming scent of her I'd become addicted to; sunshine and innocence and clean soap.

That first morning I made waffles to celebrate. Ellie slathered them in butter and syrup and ate as much as her shrunken tummy could handle, one and a bit. She managed to get butter and syrup on her cheeks, fingers, and even in her long auburn brown hair. I didn't care.

"It's time for a shower," I suggested as she failed to wipe any of it off with a napkin.

"Kay," she agreed, slipping off the chair.

Picking up her plate and empty milk glass, I deposited them in the dishwasher. My mind was racing with information overload. Ellie's eyes had sparkled with pleasure when she ate her waffles. She'd smiled, too. Suddenly I realized the fog of numbness that had hovered in my mind and muted life had begun to dissipate. It seemed with Ellie's recovery mine had started and Lord it felt good, like a single ray of sun breaking through dark clouds after an endless winter to bask me in warmth.

"Are you coming?"

Glancing over my shoulder I saw Ellie standing in the kitchen doorway, an expectant expression on her face. "Coming where, honey?" I asked.

"To the bathroom. You told me to shower. You have to come with me."

It seemed her recovery was not as complete as I'd thought. "Okay. Hold on a sec."

Once I'd disassembled the waffle iron and dropped it into the sink, I poured another cup of coffee, turned and, taking Ellie's hand, led her to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet seat I watched her tug her pajamas off leaving them in a heap on the floor, and reach into the tub to turn on the shower. Ellie had lost weight she could ill afford. She'd never been substantial. The growth spurt that had assailed her body starting at eight years old had stretched her vertically. Weigh loss was starkly evident; her legs were thinner, I could count her ribs easily and her bum had almost disappeared. Her arms were far too skinny, too, and elbows too stark.

Through the gap in the shower curtain, sipping my coffee, I watched her wash her hair, thick suds running down her body in white bubbly clumps. They followed invisible curves on her body and, as I followed one clump down, it slipped around a rather starkly outlined, plump little pubis. Suds passed revealing her small, hairless pussy and a short, tightly closed little cleft that disappeared between the wide gap of her too-thin legs.

It must have been my partial recovery that made me see my daughter differently. I actually studied her with no small measure of pride. She had small pink areolae on a small chest, a couple of narrow but prominent hip bones, legs too long for her body, knobby knees and feet slightly too large, too. Her feet were a bit pigeon-toed. She looked beautifully awkward as her body raced towards her tenth birthday, just forty-odd days away.

With her head thrown back to wash her hair, face upturned to the water and completely naked, she projected beautiful youth and innocence. I suffered a pang of pride. I also decided she needed some meat on her bones rather desperately.

Sitting on the toilet seat while she washed, I developed the "Plan". It was a carefully thought out plan to return Ellie to health, both mentally and physically. It would start with me resigning from my job as a chemical engineer at the plastics plant. Mary's life insurance had been extensive. My plan required I stay with Ellie at the beginning.

I planned a regimen of activities for mental health balanced with any nutrition to help her regain some weight; in other words, go out a lot to see things and eat in restaurants. It would distract her and nourish her.

Day one of the plan would be shopping for clothes. She didn't need clothes, but like all girls she loved to shop - at least she used to.

Ellie ended her shower. She smiled when I handed her a large, fluffy towel. Lord I had missed her smile.

"Thanks. Your turn."

I dropped bathrobe and boxers, something I'd become used to doing in her presence over the last nine weeks. Ellie, looking lost and bedraggled in the big towel, her hair dark and straggly when wet making blue topaz eyes loom larger in her face, parked herself on the toilet seat.

"Go get dressed," I suggested.

She shook her head, refusing. "I'll wait."

ELLIE WATCHED DAD UNDRESS and step into the shower, an act she'd seen a lot of times recently. This morning when she'd woken up she'd felt different somehow. This morning, with Dad hugging her gently, she'd felt like smiling for some reason and the painful ache that had suffocated her since Mom left was almost gone, now just a dark shadow inside she tried not to think about.

This morning when she'd turned and seen Dad, an avalanche of love had hit her. His smile was so full of pleasure, something that had been missing. His soft brown eyes had twinkled at her and she just knew everything would be okay. At breakfast he stared at her the whole time, smiling at her with such pride. But when she left the kitchen to go shower a tremor of remembered fear stopped her in her tracks. She needed Dad with her. Inside she was still scared Dad would leave her too.

Sitting on the toilet seat she actually studied him through the gap in the shower. He looked thinner. The small stomach he'd had was gone and his arms and legs were thin, too.

She studied his penis, small with dark bushy hair above it. A line of hair formed up to his belly button and up to his chest. He had more hair there and she knew from pressing her face against him that it was soft and tickled. His chin and cheeks had darkened. Dad needed to shave. When he turned to rinse his hair, Ellie studied his bum and grinned. Dad had a nice one.

I WRAPPED A TOWEL around my waist, shaved and brushed my teeth, waited for Ellie to brush hers and led her out of the bathroom, grabbing clean clothes for myself before heading to her room.

"I think we should shop for some new clothes today," I said, watching her pull on powder blue cotton panties, wiggle to seat them properly before grabbing a dark green T-shirt. I slipped boxers on.

"Okay," she replied when her head emerged. "What are you gonna buy?"

She made me smile. How considerate of her. "For you, not me," I mentioned, sliding my leg into jeans.

Ellie paused and looked at me, startled. "You mean buy me clothes?"

"That's what I thought. But if you don't want to . . ."

"I want to!" she exclaimed, smiling with pleased anticipation and, with a flurry of movement, finished dressing, mismatched yellow and blue socks and all. "Hurry up, Dad," she urged. "New clothes! Yay!"

Her smile hurt in a wonderful way.

Shopping went well. Dinner at a mall restaurant, Pinoccio's, was a success even if Ellie only ate part of her chicken tenders. But all was not well. Ellie never left my side when in clothes stores. When her hand wasn't seeking mine she'd stand close by me within arm's reach. Her joy at having a new pair of jeans and a pretty blue blouse to match her eyes, and even new undies, was beautiful. But she stuck right to my side.

At home when I recommended a fashion show she immediately and enthusiastically agreed and as soon as she charged out of the den she stopped suddenly, turned back to me and told me I had to come with her.

Despite the return of smiles all was not well with her.

Ellie proudly changed into her new clothes and struck a pose, her eyes shining with pleasure. She inspected her jeans in the mirror and judged them acceptable. When she spotted her new undies she added those to her fashion show, too.

Perhaps fatigue, or perhaps the long period of stress was responsible. Perhaps it was something else. Nothing happened when my daughter tugged her jeans, blouse and cotton panties off and slipped her T-shirt back on. I'd seen it before. Nothing happened when she was naked from the waist down. But when she pulled new lemon-yellow panties on something did happen.

Those panties were soft, thin cotton and much smaller than I'd thought; bikini-styled with narrow side bands, plain and decorated with a tiny bow on the waist. Light and shadows gave depth to her shape underneath. Soft cotton nestled to her immature little pubis, elastic slipping deep on either side, the skimpy panties tight enough they made her vulva stand out sharply. A little camel toe formed along her cleft. It hit me while Ellie was bending her head looking down and inspecting her panties, T-shirt gathered up in her hands to her tummy - my little Ellie was a real, honest-to-God female.

Up to that point Ellie had been my child, one I regarded with love and pride, sort of an androgynous little girl. But, based on my fascination with those panties on her, Ellie was very definitely not androgynous. Those shockingly sexy panties reminded me of my wife and the intense joy of her flashing lemon-yellow at me, and sexy groping and exploring and fondling. I even knew where that same pair of panties were in the dresser in our bedroom.

"They're pretty, Dad," Ellie exclaimed with pleasure. "I like them."

"Yes. They are . . . um," I agreed, nodding.

She yanked them down, her attention on a pastel pink pair on the bed. Her small pubis appeared and, for me, everything was different. Now it looked fascinatingly plump and petite, a hairless little peach that moved in incredible ways when Ellie lifted each leg to put on her other panties, sort of pouting and pooching. Soft pink formed tightly to her pussy, elastic snugged deep. A little camel toe emerged. She turned to show me the back and I was struck by the perfection of her small bum covered by a triangle of pink. The simplicity and style of the panties gave my little girl's bum shape. A natural dip hinted at a valley formed by two buttocks and pulled my eyes down to a fascinating gap between slender legs, her pubis so plump it was evident even from behind.

When I reacted physically in a way I'd done only with her mother - the long forgotten stir of arousal - I forced myself to look at her face, only Ellie's face.

"It feels nice, too," she enthused. "Here. You feel," she ordered reaching for my hand.

Suddenly I had my daughter's sexy little bum in hand, small, two buttocks - one perfect handful. Pink thin cotton slipped sensually across her cheeks when I felt her with a gentle and inappropriate caress. Arousal that had been hovering came roaring in like a runaway freight train.

Jerking my hand away, inhaling deeply, sharply, I sought the fatherly innocence of pre-panties to no avail. It was stress, just stress, I tried to convince myself. I tried to make Ellie turn back into a sweet, androgynous child and failed. My perceptions had irreversibly and indelibly changed.

Ellie had no awareness of it, I was sure. But the closeness she needed and demanded was going to prove a real problem. Oh good Lord! I shared a bed with that sweet little tush!

ELLIE SLEPT BADLY. DAD kept tossing and turning. Sometimes he was cuddling her then he'd rollover and face away. His restlessness kept waking her up. He groaned and seemed to talk in his sleep. She couldn't understand what he said but it sounded like he was talking to Mom. She tried to give him room, but her bed was too small. She tried to whisper to him that he was having dreams, but it didn't help.

Sitting at the kitchen table eating Frosted Flakes she asked something that had been on her mind. "What did Mom say?"

I SIPPED THE PIPING hot coffee and put the mug down. What was Ellie talking about? "Sorry?"

"Last night. You talked to Mom. What did she say?" Ellie asked, taking another spoonful of Frosted Flakes, inquisitive blue eyes watching me.

It came back to me, the restlessness I'd experienced as if no position I found was comfortable. I'd been unable to get the provocative image of Ellie in her new panties out of mind and every time I'd faced her in bed and part of her warm body touched mine I'd felt a physical reaction and rolled over.

Wisps of dreams teased my memory: apologizing to Mary for finding Ellie arousing; asking her what I was supposed to do, how to wean Ellie off needing my presence as if I was an appendage to her; asking for her forgiveness for my physical reaction, an uncontrollable sexual reaction. Mary had just smiled at me, giving me the enigmatic smile she used when she felt sorry for me or thought I was being dumb.

"Your mother didn't say anything, honey. I think I was talking to her because I miss her. Sometimes, when it hurts because you miss someone so much, it helps to talk to them and . . ."

When a pretty blush emerged on my daughter's face, something I couldn't remember ever seeing, I stopped talking for a moment. Lordy it made her so cute. "What is it?" I asked.

Her blush deepened. "I . . ."

"You what?"

"I felt your penis." In a rush she added, "I didn't mean to. Honest."

My face burned with shame. "I'm sorry, Ellie. It's not something I have control over when I'm asleep."

"S'okay. It was much bigger than in the shower or when you pee." She paused, then added, "Is that what you were dreaming? Being with Mom like that?"

I was stunned by her question. It demonstrated more knowledge about sex than I imagined a nine-year-old would have. "How do you know about that?" I asked.

"Daaaad," she exclaimed at my ignorance. "Everyone knows about sex and stuff."

"Who's everyone?" I asked.

"My friends at school. We all know about it. I'm not a baby."

"Hmmm. Have you finished with breakfast?" I asked to change the subject.

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

"Then it's time for your shower and to brush your teeth."

I pondered Ellie's casual questions while sitting on the toilet seat once again, this time averting my eyes from her as she washed. There wasn't any sexual overtone in her fascination. She hadn't expressed shock at feeling my erection, just embarrassment at feeling a private part of me in an aroused state. Shame touched me again when I had an urge to study my little girl's nakedness and, with a sharp memory of pretty lemon-yellow panties, shame intensified when I felt a response in my body. Somehow I had to wean Ellie off needing my presence. It was becoming imperative.

The shower stopped. Absentmindedly I handed a thick, fluffy bath towel to Ellie.

"Thanks. Your turn," she announced, drying herself.

Turning to face away from her, I shucked my bathrobe and boxers, hit the bathtub and pulled the shower curtain closed carefully before turning water on.

ELLIE PARKED HERSELF ON the toilet seat and dried her hair. Through a small gap in the shower curtain she saw Dad. It was immediately obvious. His penis was bigger and longer than the other times she'd seen it in the shower. But it had felt much bigger last night.

She wondered why Dad was embarrassed, cuz he had been when she told him about last night. Was it wrong to miss Mom like that? That was silly, she decided. With a shrug, she stood, wrapped the towel around her and moved to the sink to brush her teeth.

LATE JUNE WAS ALMOST oppressively hot at the San Diego zoo. We walked endlessly to cover as much as we could and I fed Ellie a constant stream of bottled water. Ellie's excitement was contagious. Seeing otters frolic through her eyes was really funny. They put on a comedy show, rolling, scampering and falling over each other, accompanied by the sweetest sound known to a father, a daughter's giggles. Her favorite was big cats; lions, tigers and especially the black jaguars.

"They have spots like leopards," I explained as we studied a sleek black jaguar pacing the cage rather ominously.

"No they don't," Ellie insisted as if I was joking. "I don't see them," she added, leaning forward.

Bending to her height, I pointed. "Watch when it gets to the end and turns. If you look hard the light will show shadows of spots."

Ellie concentrated. Sounds of animals filled the air around us; a lion's roar, monkeys chattering in a nearby enclosure. Suddenly she squealed, "I saw them. There," she pointed. "Did you see?"

Smiling, I told her I had. We spent the next twenty minutes as she eagerly studied this new phenomenon.

By early evening, after eating at Burger King, we returned home. Ellie was tired, as was I. I found a Heineken beer in the fridge and poured Ellie a glass of milk and we settled in front of the TV. By nine-forty my eyes were drooping. Ellie had slipped down at my side and her head had found my lap.

"Bedtime," I said softly when The Fantastic Four ended, caressing her fine, silky hair. She mumbled a complaint at having to move before sitting up.

"Dad, can we sleep in your bed tonight?"

"Why?" I asked. I'd avoided my bed ever since Mary's passing for two reasons: I was scared of the sadness memories would bring, and I was afraid of how sleeping in her mother's bed would affect Ellie. I wasn't sure either of us was sufficiently recovered for that.

"You toss and turn and there's no room in my bed. You kept me awake almost all night."

Remembering why I had tossed and turned suddenly made me reassess sleeping in the significantly larger bed. I could use the distance it could provide. "Are you sure, honey?" I asked.

Big blue topaz eyes, her mother's eyes, looked up at me. "Uh-huh." A nod reinforced her answer.

It was with trepidation I took her small hand and led her out of the den.

Our routine changed. This time she hunted through her dresser for nightclothes before we hit the bathroom to brush teeth.

Ellie cuddled to my side when I turned the bedroom television on to I Love Lucy. Soft, tired giggles shook her as Lucy and Ethel gobbled chocolates trying to keep up with a production line and eventually faded to be replaced by that hypnotic and calming sound of her sleeping. She was so pooped she didn't even stir when I rearranged her a foot away from me. Sleep eventually drew me down as well, one hand touching her back for comfort.

A soft, tentative caress woke me, my erection straining. Ellie, cuddled next to my side, was petting my erection over my boxers as she would a kitten, with the palm of her hand. It teased and enticed and felt very good, too good. Reaching down, I removed her hand.

"You were talking to Mom again. Did she use to do this to you?" Ellie asked innocently. "I heard you tell her how good it felt."

Gently drawing her small hand away when it moved back towards my erection, I answered her. "Yes. Your mother would wake me up like that sometimes." I'd been dreaming Mary was gently fondling me and suggesting in a whisper how morning sex would be nice, "It's the weekend, Jim. Ellie's still asleep."

"Would you like me to do it like Mom did?" Ellie asked. "I will if you want."

My daughter looked at me with such innocent sincerity. I gently tightened my hold on her hand, a flush of love making me feel warm. "No, sweetheart."

"Kay," she accepted, rolling away. "Gotta pee."

It wasn't until I heard a stream of urine flowing into the toilet that I recognized another milestone had been passed; Ellie was actually going to the bathroom without demanding my presence. Admittedly it was with the en suite bathroom door wide open and she could see me by leaning a bit, but still, it was an improvement.

Progress didn't include taking a shower alone, though. After breakfast Ellie innocently suggested we shower at the same time and, despite finding the concept unacceptably appealing, I refused. Parked on the toilet seat, I observed her washing herself. I studied how her soapy hands slipped into the nooks and crannies of her still-too-thin body, under arms and between little rounded buttocks and, when they studiously washed her plump little pussy, arousal arrived along with images of yellow cotton panties. Another flush of shame came along, too. Remembering her gentle petting, my erection strengthened and, unable to mentally rid myself of it, when it was my turn to shower, water streaming down over me, with the curtain very carefully closed, I masturbated, gasping silently when a tsunami of pleasure struck, my cock aching and jerking, cum exploding out in long arching white ropes. I came so hard I felt lightheaded and, unacceptably, my orgasm intensified when I heard Ellie calmly talking to me as she sat on the toilet seat cover. Semen erupted. I gasped quietly. I had a vivid vision of Ellie's small hand gently petting my erection.

It had been too long. It was incredibly pleasurable, my muscles melting. Gradually my penis lost its rigidity. I heard Ellie's voice and, bowing my head under the shower, I asked Mary for forgiveness, for thinking of our daughter when pleasuring myself.

Ellie's voice penetrated my repentant mind.

". . . and I still don't understand why we don't shower together, Dad. It's not like I haven't seen you naked. And you've seen me naked so it's okay, isn't it? Dad? Did you hear me?"

My heart was still beating hard. In the post-orgasmic calm, at the sound of my daughter's sweet innocent voice, shame was joined by guilt, a powerful combination. The pair assaulted me so badly tears prickled my eyes. How could I have just done that?

"What's for breakfast?" she asked after a slight pause. "Dad?"

Ellie fidgeted on the seat next to me, her hand delving into a rapidly depleting bag of buttered popcorn.

"I've gotta pee," she whispered leaning towards me.

"You should have gone before we left home like I told you," I said with a smile.

"I didn't have to go then," she replied quite logically. "But I need to go now."

"Then go. The restrooms are right outside the doors."

"You have to come," Ellie insisted in a louder whisper.

"Sweetheart, I can't go into the ladies room." We were three-quarters into Escape From Planet Earth and the actors weren't escaping fast enough for my liking.

Ellie fidgeted, still eating popcorn. Suddenly she stopped. "Dad, I HAVE TO GO!" she insisted in a hissed whisper.

Taking her greasy hand I led her out of the theater.

"HURRY!" she exclaimed.

Searching, with Ellie now gripping her jean-clad crotch, I spotted the handicapped bathroom and pulled her into it. Ellie tore at her jeans, cried out and grabbed her crotch, yanked pink panties down and sat, a stream of pee hissing out. She looked almost cross-eyed with relief, perched on the front edge of the toilet, jeans crumpled around her ankles, feet off the ground and little pink panties at her knees.

"Phew," she sighed. "What a relief. I almost peed my pants."

I smiled. But then I noticed a small dark pink spot in the gusset of her panties. Ellie had leaked. Yet to me it reminded me strongly of the teasing I'd given Mary when she'd shown me just how horny she was, damp panties the proof. Like a warm, familiar and unwelcome wave, arousal rushed in. My penis reacted growing tight in my pants.

When Ellie started wiping her little pussy I turned away and, once again, I found myself begging Mary for forgiveness. Why? Why was this happening to me? Why couldn't I stop it? I was beginning to hate myself.

That night, after a filling home-made lasagna, Caesar salad and garlic bread fresh from the oven, one of Ellie's favorite meals, we sat in the den and watched one sitcom after another. I drank a glass of Californian Merlot, a lovely complex red from the vineyards of Michael Black, and thought hard.

I could uncover no sign in my past that I might find an immature girl attractive. I had never lusted after a family member, incest never given thought. I loved mature women. I adored the seductive ripe heft of breasts and the sensual curve of mature hips, the magnificent swell of rumps. I even loved Mary's well trimmed, silky, dark auburn pubic bush. By all rights I should not be responding to Ellie the way I was. Yet I was.

Was it love? Was it because I adored Ellie's gentle personality? Or was it her innocent curiosity that appealed to me? Was it because, in mannerisms and personality she was so much like Mary as I imagined she'd have been at Ellie's age? Or, was it just lust, a sudden sexual attraction to the underaged? I didn't like the combination of arousal and shame that assaulted me at times. I didn't like feeling dirty, soiled and unworthy of being her father. But there was no denying I was finding Ellie attractive in a most inappropriate way.

Unconsciously I caressed Ellie's back when she slipped down, her head in my lap. Gentle, silent giggles resonated into me every so often. She felt so small and young and sweet and innocent. Her gradual recovery was wonderful to see. Why was I falling?

By eleven-thirty I could avoid bed no longer. My eyes were closing. Ellie was quietly snoring in my lap, caused by her head being at an odd angle. Turning the television off, I gathered her in my arms, still too slender and under-weight for my liking. Lights off, I carried my daughter and briefly considered putting her into her own bed. Afraid of her reaction, I placed her in my bed and covered her, bending to kiss a soft warm cheek.

Teeth brushed and undressed down to boxers, I slipped into the opposite side, a good foot or more of space between us.

She was warm and cuddly in my arms. Dawn was just brightening the bedroom. Ellie's scent intoxicated me, such sweet innocence. She was petite in my arms and I quietly basked in the feel of her breathing gently. She was beautiful in my arms, a perfect, pure love washing over me. I found, for just a few exquisite moments, a state of grace; companionship, warmth of a living being, a child, love, my daughter.

A pressing bladder forced me to extricate myself. Once relieved, after checking she was still asleep - she was, curled up and lost in my bed - I took a shower. Visions came back: Ellie washing herself, her soapy hands sliding into sensual little places; little pink panties gathered at her knees with a dark stain, a slight leak. My cock stirred. An erection formed feeling irresistible, so good, despite my shame. Reaching down, letting water cascade over the back of my bowed head, gripping the shaft, I closed my eyes and . . .

"DAAAAD!"

Ellie's frightened scream brought me tumbling out of the shower, tripping and slipping on the tile floor. Racing into the bedroom I found Ellie kneeling up on the bed, her blue topaz eyes wide in fear and close to tears, her face deathly pale.

"What? What happened, Ellie?" I asked, reaching out for her, naked and wet.

Tears spilled. Ellie launched herself off the bed and into my arms. "I thought you were gone! Why did you go? Why did you leave me?" she cried, desperately clinging to me.

"But I didn't, sweetheart. I was just taking a shower," I tried to reason.

Calm slowly returned. I felt her little heart through her back gradually settle and tremors subside. She sighed deeply, exhaling her warm breath against my neck. Arms wrapping around me tightened. "Please don't leave me," she whispered.

Her plea touched me deeply. I hugged her very, very tightly. "Never, honey. You're stuck with your old man."

Another deep sigh emerged. "Kay," my daughter whispered, her relief seemingly attached to my heart. She wiggled. "You're wet," she observed, making me smile.

"Ya think?" I said with a smile. Thin legs wrapped around me. I had a hand filled with a sweet little panty-clad bum and a nose buried in soft auburn hair and I became erect again.

"You're missing Mom," my daughter murmured, pressing herself against my erection.

Lord help me. "I guess I am," I replied. Her warm little body pressed against my erection was seductively sensual and threatened to control my actions. Lowering Ellie to the ground, I turned to go back to the shower, Ellie following close behind. Perhaps if I ignored my erection Ellie would, too.

"I'm all wet now, Dad. How about I shower with you? I'm wet anyway. Can I?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," I advised, a rude erection still waving in front of me. Pulling the shower curtain aside I stepped in, water running, steam billowing.

"I think it's a good idea," Ellie insisted from behind the shower curtain.

One minute later she climbed in, in all her naked glory, right when I was feeling most vulnerable with an erection slanting my perspective on acceptable and unacceptable. Ellie squeezed by me to get under the shower, her auburn hair darkening as it turned wet. Her eyes never left my erection.

"Can I have the soap?" she asked, taking it when offered.

Ellie proceeded to make my erection ache. She washed herself and I couldn't stop thinking about my hands being hers, feeling her soft skin and the dips and curves of a female body. I couldn't stop wondering what it would be like to caress her small body, the thought very arousing despite shame whispering to me. When she bent her knees and spread her legs, her soapy hand rubbing a hairless little pussy, like a wisp of cigarette smoke in a breeze, shame dispersed. My erection bounced, desire emerged.

Ellie reached for the shampoo. I took it from her without really thinking. "Let me," I offered and finally she stopped staring at my erection and turned her back to me.

Small rounded buttocks swept out from her lower back. I poured shampoo and massaged, her head so petite. When the tip of my erection touched her back a shudder passed through me. I loved washing her hair. When she rinsed, soapy suds ran down her too-slender body following natural dips and curves. They flowed through the valley formed by lovely little buttocks and around the sides. Her wet hair plastered to her back and reached down to just above sensual swells. I ached, a growing desperation for release emerging.

"All done. Why don't you dry off while I finish," I suggested.

"Kay." Her eyes stared at my erection until I pulled the curtain closed.

With a sigh, I reached down and took my shaft in hand. It felt thick and rigid. Closing my eyes I ignored the shadow of ever-present shame, arousal suppressing it. To visions of my little girl's intensely feminine body, sweet little buttocks and the feel of the tip of my cock brushing against her, I masturbated. My climax came on fast. Heart pounding, I felt that wonderful moment when pressure abated, the glorious feeling of first release, erection straining. Bliss descended. Groaning silently, semen erupted; so damned good. Another beautiful wave of pleasure hit, another achingly pleasing explosion, cum jetting out. Stroking myself I drowned in ecstasy, cumming hard and completely, beautiful release, beautiful intense pleasure. My heart was racing when the satisfying orgasm finally passed. Ruing its departure, I felt quite drained.

ELLIE STOPPED DRYING HERSELF. Through the small gap she'd made in the shower curtain she watched Dad close his eyes and stroke his penis. She was fascinated. It was hard and so big, like she'd felt the other morning. It looked angry, the mushroom-shaped end all red. She noticed Dad's eyes closed and how he held himself, how he stroked his penis. But the most amazing part was the semen. She knew what semen was but had never imagined it would spit out so strongly. In pulses, with each stroke, white semen jetted out, the tip of Dad's erection swelling. Fascinating. Then the spits got less and less, Dad's hand slowing. It looked like he sighed and calmed, his body still. Huh. It must feel good to him.

Closing the curtain, Ellie wondered if Mom had stroked it for him. What would it feel like? She felt a bit guilty for spying but her curiosity was too strong. How often did he need to do it? How often would Mom do it for him? Even more fascinating was what made it big? Did thinking of Mom give Dad an erection or did it just happen?

AT BREAKFAST, BETWEEN BITES of scrambled eggs and toast, Ellie was unusually quiet. Something was on her mind and she was behaving most oddly. When I'd ask her a question she'd respond distractedly. For the rest of the morning she followed me around like a little lamb while I did household chores; vacuuming, cleaning up, changing bed sheets, and collecting laundry. When I threw dirty clothes at her she giggled and threw them back at me, but a couple of minutes later she was lost in herself again.

"You okay?" I asked on more than one occasion.

"Uh-huh," was her standard answer.

The afternoon was taken up with more chores. We shopped for groceries and hunted through Target in search of new pillows. Ours had aged and become puff-less. When I playfully belted Ellie with a pillow, she laughed. A bright sparkle returned to her blue topaz eyes and, as soon as my back was turned, I was hit with a plastic-wrapped pillow and a flurry of beautiful giggles. It seemed to distract Ellie. At least she became more animated and involved.

Handing her two of the four king-sized feather pillows to carry, I managed to suppress the laugh that wanted to escape. Ellie was too short to hold the plastic bags off the ground. Arms raised, she struggled. Pausing, she tried to turn them sideways and wrap her arms around them, frowning in concentration. I snorted with laughter when one pillow slid out of the plastic shopping bag behind her. The surprised annoyance on her pretty face was too cute by far.

She caught onto my entertainment, paused and frowned her disapproval at my mirth, and calmly handed me the empty plastic bag.

"All yours."

I might have refused but Ellie turned and walked off leaving the fallen pillow on the ground, the remaining one now held in two arms like a huge teddy bear.

With our purchases safely deposited in the car, we dined at Holy Chow's, a local Asian restaurant that guaranteed 'MSG free' and 'Authentic Szechuan cuisine'. I splurged by ordering more dishes than five people could consume hoping my daughter might be tempted into gorging. Our doggy-bags were huge. Ellie had pecked like a chick, sampling all but barely eating any. At least her animated self emerged.

By the time I crawled into bed I was exhausted from an emotional day, housework, and worry. Worry hovered over me casting a dark shadow in my mind. I worried about Ellie's reaction to waking up alone that morning; her recovery far from over. I worried about the haunting feeling of my little girl hugging me and pressed against my erection. I worried about the way my shame seemed to fade in inverse proportion to the uncontrollable rise of arousal and how much I liked showering with her. I worried about what Mary must think of me, her disappointment in me and worse, her disgust. And, more than anything, I worried when Ellie tugged a longish nightshirt over her head and I couldn't stop thinking about the little lemon-yellow bikini-style panties she'd worn, so delightfully petite and sensual, attractive buttocks swelling underneath. The memory of a camel toe stormed back, too.

"Night, sweetheart," I whispered with a kiss on her brow.

"Night, Dad," she whispered, her sweet eyes studying me.

With a safe foot or more of space between us, fresh, plump pillows supporting our heads, and the TV playing its nightly run of old sitcoms, I fell into a restless sleep.

I was right to worry.

A gentle hand stroking my erection under the sheet and bringing intense pleasure woke me up. Before my eyes opened I knew who and what. Ellie was stoking my shaft. My erection poked out of the flies of my boxers. A short war was waged inside my head; open my eyes and remove her hand or keep my eyes closed, feign ignorance through sleep and let myself drown in the utter thrill of being stroked by my little girl.

Moral restraint, weakened by arousal, lost. I let Ellie stroke my cock sending pulses of pleasure through me. Her hand felt small and gentle, tentative yet stimulating. An occasional exploratory squeeze brought even more intense pleasure. Her hand suddenly started gliding smoothly from precum. Her pause at the new feeling was agonizing. And when she resumed she took me over the top. I pictured her small hand holding my thick erection. The image was astoundingly arousing. My cock swelled and semen burned up the shaft to erupt onto my stomach in a pulse of bliss. Ellie paused again. The desire to have her stroke was almost excruciating. I swelled and semen erupted again, pulsed, swelled and erupted, hot cum landing on my stomach, my heart thumping, pleasure pounding, and prayed for another stroke. Unable to stay quiet, I moaned when my daughter resumed stroking my cock, cum erupting, bliss thundering with every glorious, exquisite spurt.

She held my penis until it softened. I pretended to sleep, now ashamed with what had happened, ashamed by the pleasure I'd found in the touch of my nine-year-old. The bed moved when she slipped out. Water splashed in the sink. The sound of peeing reached me.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and watched Ellie emerge from the bathroom.

"Morning, Dad," she said with a bright smile.

Was I supposed to pretend nothing had happened? Why, after cumming at the touch of my little girl, did I feel fear? Semen was uncomfortable now as it cooled on my stomach. In the back of my mind Mary chastised me silently.

"Are you getting up? I want breakfast," Ellie said kneeling on the side of the bed.

"Go get it," I encouraged, partly as a test, partly in hope she'd let me get out of bed without exposing the semen on me.

"I'll wait. Hurry up," she instructed, big eyes watching me.

Rolling away from her, I wiped semen off my front with the sheet before standing. Shoot, I'd have to change the sheets again.

Ellie followed me, her all-seeing eyes watching me as I peed and brushed my teeth, unobtrusively washed traces of semen off me and dressed in jeans and a Tee. She followed me into the kitchen, silent and observant.

"Juice?" I offered.

She nodded.

"Cheerios or Frosted Flakes?" I asked.

"Pancakes please," she answered seriously, feet swinging.

"Cinnamon toast or eggs?" I didn't feel like the hassle of making pancakes.

"Pancakes," she insisted.

"Eggos?" I countered with, hopefully as a compromise.

"Kay."

I noticed, as I dropped Eggo waffles into the toaster and started coffee, her gaze occasionally drop lower to my pants. It didn't take long to figure out she was preoccupied with my crotch. Given what had happened I wasn't surprised. As much as I wanted to ignore it - the prospect of an open discussion making me feel apprehensive - it had to be talked about.

"Ellie?"

She put her orange juice down. "Uh-huh?"

The toaster popped. I got busy. She smiled when contemplating the feast on her plate, Aunt Jemima syrup pouring until two Eggos almost floated.

With a mug of steaming, strong coffee, I sat at the table and took a bracing breath.

"This morning, honey, why did you touch me?" I asked.

"You were missing Mom again."

That made me smile, but how did she know to stroke me? "Ellie?" I asked, her attention on cutting another big bite of syrup-drowned Eggo.

"Uh-huh?"

"Why did you hold my erection like that?

Ellie glanced at me. A rosy flush tinged her cheeks. "I spied on you in the shower yesterday. Are you mad at me?" she asked quickly.

"But the shower curtain was closed," I said rather dumbly.

"I peeked. Sorry. But it looked like you liked playing with it. Does it feel good when the semen comes out?"

Should I lie? Probably. Yet . . . "Yes, it feels good. But it's not something you should do."

Her fork paused halfway to her mouth. "Why not? I don't mind."

"Yes, well, you might not mind but there are a lot of people who would."

A look of surprise emerged. She glanced around as if she'd see other people. "Who? There's no one here. Besides, you said it feels good and I want you to feel good."

It felt like I was losing the conversation. Sipping coffee and considering her responses, I watched her eat, syrup once again migrating onto her rounded cheeks.

When I wondered if it was really that bad, I caught myself. What was I thinking? Of course it was bad. It was awful. What would Mary think? She'd have been horrified.

My unfriendly companion, shame, returned. "I don't think you should touch me like that anymore, honey," I said. "It's something only Mom should do."

"But she's not here," Ellie reasoned. After a brief pause she added, "I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"That's not the point," I argued with a smile. "It's something only adults can do."

Her blue eyes grew wide, fork hovering, syrup dripping. "You mean I didn't do it right?"

"No. You . . ." How was she doing it? How was a nine-year-old shaping the conversation? "Ellie, honey, what I mean is you're too young to be doing it."

I knew I'd made an error in reasoning as soon as it left my mouth.

"That's stupid, Dad. How can I be too young when I already did it?"

"What I meant was you're . . . Sweetheart, it makes me feel bad," I tried.

"You said it made you feel good," Ellie astutely replied, taking a bite of Eggo.

Oh, to hell with it! Ellie had inherited her mother's ability to confound me and twist what I'd say. "It's not something you do without permission," I explained. There. I'd make her ask first and refuse her.

"Kay. What are we doing today?"

Ellie complained about the Getty Museum. She didn't like the artwork, was bored and moped. I'd hoped to walk her to exhaustion and failed. Even fries and chicken strips for a late lunch didn't make her interested. She wasn't impressed by the incredible vista of Los Angeles viewed from the museum. The only part of the trip she liked was the train ride up and down the steep hill.

Her spirits lifted when we decided she was in charge of making dinner; we'd shop for whatever she wanted to cook. The challenge was taken very seriously indeed. She led me and the shopping cart up and down aisles repeatedly, baked beans put into the cart then removed and replaced by canned SpaghettiOs. They too were removed when we passed by the pasta section, two boxes of Kraft Mac & Cheese dropped in.

Ellie seemed set on singlehandedly rearranging the shelves at Safeway. Mac & Cheese was deposited in the refrigerated section, "Hot dogs, Dad, I'll make hot dogs for dinner."

"Okay," I agreed with a smile.

"Maybe hamburgers," she decided, peering at frozen foods. Hot dogs were left to freeze and, before a box of Angus Burgers was removed, her attention was enticed by colorful boxes of frozen pizza. "That one. Cheese and pepperoni. I like pizza."

She was very proud when removing the pizza from the oven, concentrating hard not to drop it when heading towards the TV room. "Bring the drinks. Hurry," she insisted, waiting for me to follow.

It wasn't the best tasting pizza I'd ever had, but it was the best by far. When Ellie finished she made me smile.

"I should have picked the Mac & Cheese," she announced.

Snuggled to my side, peace settled over me. TV distracted and Ellie calmly added commentary to Two and a Half Men, "Why's Jake so stupid? I don't like him," and, "I like Walden. He's funny."

Bending, I kissed her crown gently. "Jeez I love you," I said. Ellie replied with a cute wriggle, pressing closer.

A small hand held my erection gently. Her thumb rubbing the tip sent chills through me. Opening my eyes to morning light I was greeted by Ellie turned into my side, nightshirt rucked up, one bare leg over my thigh, and covers pushed down. With her head in the crook of my arm, she faced down watching what she was doing.

My arm cradled her and hand held one sweet little cotton-clad buttock. Horniness raged through me.

"I thought we agreed you were to ask first," I said softly.

Her head turned. A sweet face looked up at me, beautiful blue eyes sincere. "I did," she insisted. "You didn't say no."

A gentle slippery stroke distracted me. Man I was so horny. And the sight of her small hand wrapped around but unable to encompass my shaft emptied my brain. Her head turned back down. She squeezed.

"You're missing Mom a lot this morning," my daughter announced with a squeeze. "It's bigger than yesterday."

I knew I was going to regret this. "That feels very good, Ellie," I whispered.

"Kay," she replied, giving me one mind-numbing stroke.

An indelible line between daughter and father was blurred when I asked, "Can you stroke it a bit faster, honey?"

Her bare leg felt good on my thigh. Her little toes looked cute. Her succulent little bum felt stunningly sensual. And the sight of her small hand stroking an adult erection was the last straw.

My stomach clenched, testicles ached and shaft swelled. Pressure in my body built until, with a gasp, pleasure thundered in. The crown strained red and the first weak spurt hit, white cum almost oozing out. Ellie stroked. A huge wave of pleasure hit me, cock swelling and aching. Semen burned up the shaft and erupted in a long white spurt landing on my chest.

Ellie twitched in surprise and the next exquisite pulse launched thick semen all over her nightshirt and arm. Ellie jerked my erection up and I came again, hard, semen exploding up into the air and down over her hand. She stopped stroking. Reaching down desperately I guided her small hand up and down, groaning silently at each beautiful pulse of ecstasy flooding me, semen spurting then flowing out to run down over our hands. The climax felt endless and wonderful yet was over far too soon, heart thumping in my chest, sweet relief flowing into me.

While I caught my breath Ellie inspected her hand, studying the semen. She twisted in my arm, her face turned up to me. "Did it feel better this time?" she asked, her eyes studying me, her expression showing genuine interest.

Breakfast of fried eggs and toast was picked at, Ellie mostly spreading yellow yolk on her toast and eating it. She wasn't a fan of egg-whites, the texture not to her liking. I'd forgotten about it, too preoccupied. Ever-present shame shadowed me.

Ellie had showered with me, climbing in without asking. I'd made no comment and she'd washed herself quite happily before turning her back to me and instructing me to wash her hair. She'd no more than glanced at my crotch, busy planning the day's outing, "Let's go to the beach today, Dad!"

Finishing my plate of eggs and sipping a cooling coffee, I turned our chat to what had happened in bed.

"Sweetheart, you understand not saying no doesn't mean it's okay."

"Yes it does," she replied, reaching for her half empty glass of orange juice.

"It doesn't," I said slowly with conviction.

A final gulp emptied her glass. She put it down, eyeing it as if debating if she wanted more.

"Ellie?"

Her attention turned to me. "When I tell you I'm gonna have a cookie you only answer me when you say no, because it's almost dinner-time or something. You never say yes. That means it's okay. So see?"

"Honey . . ." Her innocent, convinced expression reached into me and plucked the formulating thoughts from my mind. "Okay. The beach it is."

She smiled with excitement. "When?"

Driving down Topanga Canyon Boulevard, one of my favorite roads - I love the twists and turns and elevation changes as it meanders down to the Pacific - we turned right onto the Pacific Coast Highway and finally hit the Las Tunas State Beach, Ellie peering out the window with growing excitement.

Heat beat down from a cloudless azure sky. It was mid-week and the crowds were safely at work leaving the beach mostly empty. Soft, warm sand yielded through my toes. I led Ellie by the hand until we were satisfied with a spot twenty feet from the calm surf. A fresh salty breeze tickled my nose and relaxed me. Heat and sand and brine always had that effect on me, as if I was on vacation. Add the gentle thump and hiss of surf and I was almost at peace.

Beach towels were spread. Shorts and Tee were shucked, my attention on Ellie doing the same. To make it special I'd packed a picnic. To make it extra special, we'd purchased a new bathing suit, too. Ellie's excitement was a joy to behold, as was her new bathing suit. Through careful manipulation I'd steered her away from string bikinis that had drawn her attention. A disagreement had ensued, me attempting to interest her in a pretty one-piece thing, her dissing my idea and enthusing about the tan she could get with a bikini, her first bikini.

Thus, she settled for a bikini that had more coverage than her lemon-yellow panties, smug in her belief she'd manipulated Daddy. The turquoise with white printed pattern bikini featured a matching frill around the waist. The top, two smallish triangles without frills connected by strings, didn't worry me. Ellie had nothing to expose.

My daughter was all eyes on the ocean. "Do you think it'll be cold?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to swim with me, Dad?"

"Yes."

"Do you like my bikini?" she asked.

"Yes." It seemed it was a "yes" sort of day.

"Me, too! Come on!" she yelled running towards the surf.

I paused and watched a busy little bum. Her bikini bottoms were slightly too large but I hoped she'd soon fill them out by eating properly.

"Come on, slow-coach!" she yelled.

I took a more dignified pace and followed her. It turned out I was wrong about things . . . on several counts.

We splashed into the surf, Ellie letting loose with a scream at the sudden coldness of the ocean on her sun-heated body. I shivered, too. My nipples puckered. The water was chilly - it was the first thing I was wrong about. After a short adjustment, the ocean actually seemed warm.

A rambunctious game of splash and escape ensued. I quite drowned in the pure joy of my daughter's bright laughter. A big sigh wanted to escape, too. With every giggle at catching me out with a splash, with every laugh at escaping my clasping hands, Ellie was replenishing my spirit. I could feel myself fill with satisfaction and she had no idea how precious her gift was.

When I reached the end of my stamina I left her to swim and romp, keeping a close eye on her. Sun dried me while I prepared the picnic lunch. Ellie hopped out of the ocean using big steps and fell to her knees to play with wet sand. I asked what she was making.

"A sand castle. Look, these are the walls and that's the moat and this is the castle," she enthused, proud of a rather shapeless form.

"Looks great, honey," I said, preoccupied when, on hands and knees, she crawled around her creation. The wet bikini bottoms were stretched across her bum. It was the second thing I was wrong about. Wet, the bikini bottoms were not too big. The material had formed to her rump, every detail exposed. Two little buttocks were starkly separated by the fold of material that hugged her bum crack deeply. That crease blended seamlessly into her camel toe, my daughter's pussy starkly outlined and shockingly prominent from behind. My stunned reaction included a bodily response. The sexiness caught me off guard.

"Lunch," I called out, looking at the food and hoping rather fervently my condition would not be noticed. For Ellie I'd brought tuna sandwiches, "because we're going to Las Tunas beach," I'd explained to her with a grin. For myself I'd prepared goat cheese, roasted red pepper, and spicy arugula sandwiches.

"Thanks," Ellie said, absentmindedly taking the proffered sandwich, sitting cross-legged on her beach towel, her attention on people down the beach. She nibbled, not really interested in food.

I smiled, relaxed and admired my daughter. Her auburn hair was water darkened and straggly, rather attractive in an odd way. Somewhere in the ocean was a small hair band that used to hold her hair neatly.

The third thing I was wrong about was her bikini top. I was at a loss to explain it. I'd seen my daughter naked countless times. Her bikini top had absolutely nothing to hide, nothing at all. Yet, when the she leaned over to grab a bottled water, the two pieces of cloth gaped just enough for me to spot her little pink areolae and nipples and, damn if it wasn't arousing. There was no logic to it. The inadvertent peek was naughty and teasing and it touched me.

In an effort to distract myself, I tore my gaze away from her top and the forth thing I was wrong about was revealed. It shocked me deeply. An erection stormed in before I could think. Sitting with her legs crossed, Ellie's bikini bottoms gaped slightly at the crotch. Through the gap I saw my little girl's hairless pussy in a way I'd never seen it before. Her short cleft was parted, plump labia separated and between, her little clitoral hood stood out. My cock pulsed at the sight of two undeveloped inner labia and the moist red darkness below. I was staring at the most private part of her body.

The effect on me was truly astonishing. My mind took flight in a split second and wondered what such a small pussy would feel like to the touch. I wondered if nine-year-olds could feel pleasure. Could they climax? Did Ellie masturbate? How would a preteen . . .

"Are you missing Mom again?" Ellie asked, shaking me out of my reverie.

I coughed, choking on the sandwich I'd been mindlessly eating. "Yes," I answered, looking at her pretty face. Reaching out I cupped her cheek. "You remind me of her. Just as pretty. You have her eyes, too."

Ellie smiled brightly with pleasure.

"I'm going to suntan for a while," I announced, rolling onto my front for obvious reasons.

The afternoon turned out to be a lot of fun once I'd exerted a rein over my reaction. We swam and took a long walk along the beach, Ellie enthusiastically collecting sea shells, "Look, Dad, a pink one!" "Dad! Look at this one!"

Walking in sand was both sensuous and tiring. Sand yielded making feet arch and calves stretch. The occasional large wave rushed up to chill our feet and tug supporting sand from underfoot as it retreated. Through it all Ellie let me enjoy her innocent pleasure and it was with a promise to return frequently that we headed home, pleasantly tired.

Dinner was a simple capellini with homemade marinara sauce accompanied by a baby greens salad and Dijon vinaigrette. Ellie picked at it. She was visibly tired, her eyes drooping from exercise, sun, and sand. I had a glass of the merlot from an unfinished bottle and we settled in front of the television. Before eight o'clock she was asleep, her head in my lap.

By nine-thirty I was struggling to stay awake. Ellie complained when I woke her up. "Carry me," she ordered. I did. Any excuse to hold Ellie in my arms was eagerly accepted. Brushing teeth was half-hearted. My little girls' clothes left a trail from the bathroom to the bed. It was only when I gathered her into my arms, the television on low, that I realized she was wearing nothing but panties.

Despite my fatigue, her warm silky skin felt too good. I was no longer surprised when I developed an erection holding my almost naked girl to me in a snug hug. Ellie murmured something, rolled in my arms and I drifted to sleep spooning her little body, the sound of Lucile Ball on the television in the background, and quietly asking Mary to forgive me.

ELLIE STIRRED AWAKE. SHE'D had nice dreams of swimming and sand and Dad smiling and laughing, something that had been missing. She'd dreamed of Mom building a sand castle with her and when they looked at Dad, Mom leaning in and telling her, "Your father loves you. Give him lots of hugs and take care of him." She'd dreamed of Mom kissing and hugging her and telling her she was watching from heaven, how much she loved her. It was a good dream.

Ellie opened her eyes. On her front, with her arms under the thick, soft pillow, she studied Dad's face. His jaw and cheek was covered with stubble she knew was going to tickle when he kissed her good morning, something he did every day.

She loved his face. His dark eyes were so full of love when he looked at her and they stood out from the short light brown messy hair. She loved his pretend frown and how he would smile right away. And she adored Dad's hugs. They wrapped her in love and calmed her and felt so nice. In his hug she found peace.

At the beach she'd been surprised when Dad got an erection staring at her. She'd been confused until he told her she reminded him of Mom. That was okay. It was nice. It explained why he missed Mom so often when he looked at her.

Reaching out under the covers, she felt to see if he was missing Mom. He wasn't. She rolled onto her back and found the remote control, turning the television on and finding cartoons. The noise must have woken Dad up. He rolled onto his side and kissed her cheek, his whiskers scratching.

"Morning, honey."

Scooting close she smiled. "Morning, Dad." Her bladder called. "Gonna pee. Be right back," she told him, crawling out of bed, shivering from wearing only panties. When she returned, she dived into the warm bed and cuddled. When warmth returned hunger hit. "Can we have breakfast?"

"Sure. Let me go to the bathroom first."

Ellie watched Dad go. She noticed he now had an erection. It made her think. She was beginning to understand. She reminded him of Mom. He liked Mom. He'd get excited by Mom, get erections. It made sense he'd get excited by her, too, since she looked like Mom; he'd said she did.

Thinking a bit more, she realized Dad was hugging her more, and more loving since Mom went to heaven. She loved his cuddles and kisses and hugs. Ellie decided it made sense that she'd have to do what Mom used to do for Dad. She wanted him to be happy like now. She had to make Dad happy. It made her happy. She didn't want him to miss Mom.

Nodding to herself, Ellie felt better. Now she understood.

Slipping out of bed, she decided she should help Dad with that erection, maybe in the shower after he'd washed her hair. She liked it when he did that.

FOR THE NEXT FEW days Ellie seemed to get better and better. The bright little girl I knew and loved was returning. A major step occurred when she asked for some apple juice and I casually suggested she was quite capable of getting it herself, crossing my fingers and praying.

Holding my breath, I watched her stand up and, after a brief hesitation, head to the kitchen without asking me to accompany her. But she ran back carrying a glass of juice, spilling it over the rim in her rush to get back to me. Her eyes were slightly wide until she saw me. It was a significant step, though.

The other significant step was with me. I'd fallen far too easily into enjoying her attention to my erections. She approached it with no sexual overtones that I could discern. I tried not to get erections in the mornings, and it became a bit easier when Ellie let me go pee without following me - as long as the bathroom door was open. I could discreetly and silently masturbate. Showers continued to be problematic, though. Something about washing Ellie's hair would arouse me. It might have been because I was touching her, or studying her marvelous tiny bum as I washed her hair. I could feel myself growing increasingly attracted to her small body; a mini female, all the pieces I loved just wonderfully petite.

Life settled somewhat. But nature never rests. Status quo in life is a figment of imagination. Everything evolves. And so it did with Ellie and me, our relationship changing again on her tenth birthday.

I hadn't been able to shop secretly for presents, never having time on my own. So, for her birthday I took her on a shopping spree; anything she wanted as long as we could afford it. Ellie skipped through the mall, leading me to one store after the other.

She was so polite. Finding a pair of lime green Capri pants, she asked, "Can we get these?" hopefully. She rewarded my nod with a smile and making me bend down to kiss my cheek, big eyes so pleased. Her "Thanks, Dad" had me eager to buy her more clothes just to repeat the experience.

She loved Target, finding a complete new outfit. She loved the Apple store and the newly purchased iPhone. And when we hit Macy's, she loved the underwear department. Embarrassment had me asking a sales lady to escort her around and help her pick out whatever she wanted. "It's her birthday," I mentioned as rationale.

Another fashion show ensued once home again and it was the filmy baby blue panties that gave me an erection and made me want to actually touch my daughter. Little lacy elastic edged the waist and legs, with gauzy, see-through blue material everywhere else. A double gusset hid her ten-year-old vulva teasingly. But peeking above it was the smallest immature cleft. The panties hugged her pussy almost sensually. They titillated and teased. And when she turned to admire them in the mirror, a little butt crack showed through the material.

I simply couldn't understand why, when I'd seen my daughter naked countless times, at the sight of those panties on her, I wanted to kneel and kiss those little buttocks, caress those remarkably grown-up sexy panties. My erection actually ached at the sensuality of Ellie, all of ten, shapeless except for a chubby pussy and protuberant buttocks. I wanted to feel and fondle and caress. I wanted Ellie.

While she happily tugged on lime green Capri pants I happily dreamed of touching her and my mind drifted. How old were girls when they first experienced sexual feelings? When did little girls discover the pleasure of their clitoris? When did girls start playing with themselves?

Those thoughts occupied me and kept me partially erect through the fashion show, through a birthday dinner of Mac & Cheese with cut-up hotdogs, "No veggies, Dad", and chocolate birthday Betty Crocker brownies with vanilla ice cream and Hershey's chocolate syrup. They occupied me as we sat in front of the television, neither of us watching. Ellie, in her new outfit, was playing with her new iPhone, downloading games and trying to remember which of her friends had phones. I sat exploring the Internet on an older iPad trying to educate myself about the sexual development of young girls.

It was a fascinating study. I never knew girls as young as five or six would pet themselves, not for a climax, but to feel good. I was fascinated to read that girls started masturbating and experiencing their first orgasm anywhere from eight years old to fifteen or sixteen. There was no reason why the age range was so wide, it just was. Yet with boys the age bracket was much narrower, driven by puberty and the arrival of erections.

My interest deepened when I read about sexual promiscuity. That led to reading about the forbidden topic I could not ignore; pedophilia. I hated the word, conditioned by society to see it as deeply dirty and depraved. It didn't reflect what I felt; a love and sexual attraction towards Ellie, not young girls in general. It sounded so sordid, ugly, and unacceptable. But why? From Greek meaning "loving" and "child", it shouldn't have felt so sordid. But I didn't want to see myself as a pedophile.

When the encyclopedia discussed how a typical pedophile would be unable to find satisfaction in adult sexual relationships, I felt a small measure of relief. That wasn't me. I loved women, too. I'd loved sex with Mary. So what was my condition? Incest? No. I could no longer imagine sex with my mother, aunt or sister as I could with animals. It wasn't incest.

I found no answers. And I forgot about it when Ellie jumped up and settled in my lap.

"Look, Dad," she enthused showing me her iPhone. "It's called "Where's My Water?" You have to make the water go into the crocodile's shower! Here. You try."

Ellie let me fail once and took over, demonstrating how to win. I really didn't mind. A small bum was pressed into my lap. My favorite little girl in the world was in my arms. She was happy. She smelled sweet and fresh; the scent of innocence and sunshine. Her slender thigh felt good against my palm. For half an hour I let Ellie charm me with her enthusiastic delight. I let her wiggle with glee when successful. And I caressed a slender thigh gently, letting the image of filmy baby blue panties and the top of a hairless little cleft arouse me. They did, too, growing stronger the more I thought about it.

Ellie knew. "You're missing Mom again," she said almost as an aside, fingers swiping on the iPhone. She wiggled her little bum against the bulge underneath her.

Inhibitions weakened by arousal, and courage bolstered by a few beers, I admitted for the first time, "No. I'm not missing your mother."

Ellie paused her game and looked up at me, blue topaz eyes endlessly deep. "I know," she said simply.

"Do you?" I asked, surprised.

"Uh-huh."

"Since when?"

"The other morning. You were looking at me when you got one. It's okay. I don't mind, Dad."

It was odd to feel both arousal and pride at her astuteness at the same time. I gave her a tight hug, so tight she grunted, "I can't breathe". When it ended, my arms still around her, she leaned against me and resumed playing on her iPhone.

That night when Ellie climbed into bed smelling of minty toothpaste, I broke down, arousal slanting my perspective. I wanted my little girl to feel some joy. I wanted to see if she could experience pleasure. And I wanted to experience my daughter's sexual side, the concept quite arousing. So I kissed her. I touched her.

Her expression was one of intrigue when I leaned over her and kissed her on her lips for the first time. There was no ravenous response, just fascination. The kiss, a gentle touching of lips, was exciting to me, though. Her mouth was so small with perfectly formed little lips. When my hand settled on her lower tummy, over her nightshirt, her hands settled on top of mine. Blue topaz eyes gazed at me, soft and questioning.

"Have you touched yourself?" I asked. "Down here?" I added, sliding my hand down to rest over the bulge of her small pussy.

Ellie nodded yes.

"Did it feel good?" I asked.

She nodded yes.

"Tell me, honey. I want to know."

Her voice was soft, quiet, as if departing a secret. "Sometimes I rub down there. It feels nice. But when I do it with soap in the bathtub it feels better."

"What do you feel?" I asked, an erection forming at the visual in my mind.

"It tingles and feels like I need to pee and I then I stop."

Pressing my palm onto her little, prominent mons, I asked, "Can I try to make you feel what I feel when you touch me?"

Ellie nodded yes, her eyes still studying me. I kissed her little lips again, gently, just a brush. With mounting excitement I inched her nightshirt up. Knowing what was underneath, filmy baby blue panties, my excitement ratcheted up.

They were almost silky soft. Her pussy felt warm against my palm and so, so petite. I caressed her mons with my thumb, watching her eyes as a guide to her feelings. My hand almost spanned both thighs reminding me of just how slender she was. She stared at me with those deep blue eyes, Mary looking back at me. The twinge of guilt passed, suppressed by aroused excitement.

"Spread you legs a bit," I whispered.

Excitement mounted when fingertips felt the seam of her double gusset. I explored the astounding shape of a ten-year-old pubis, full, almost pudgy with steep sides and tapering deep into the gap between her legs. When I caressed her, Ellie's eyes softened, narrowing slightly as if focusing inside her on the sensation of being touched. I caressed gently, tracing her cleft and adding pressure. Her pussy was so full it yielded under my fingers.

I leaned close. "How does this feel?"

"Nice."

"Any tingles?"

"Uh-huh."

"Close your eyes, sweetheart."

With her eyes closed I kissed a soft cheek, lips lingering. This close I could inhale her fresh minty breath. Cupping her small pussy, I squeezed gently and used my middle finger to softly caress her little cleft, pressing in, seeking her clitoris under the baby blue panties. I couldn't feel it but her body twitched, showing me where it was.

Focusing on that spot and ignoring the raging erection that pulsed and leaked, I started fondling my daughter, stroking up and down along her cleft and side to side, every so often gently squeezing her whole little pussy. Ellie's hands, resting on her nightshirt, slowly formed into fists. I kissed her cheek again.

"Relax, honey. Just enjoy."

"Feels like I need to pee," she whispered.

"You don't, sweetheart. That's just the beginning of feeling good. Relax and let go."

Gradually I applied a touch more pressure right over her clitoris. My strokes and caresses were timed to the flare of her nostrils, her breaths deepening and speeding up. Eyebrows narrowed. Her mouth opened slightly. She gasped quietly, more a sharp inhalation, and her little hips twitched. I caressed her small pussy, fascinated at her reaction, so subtle, so gentle.

When Ellie climaxed, my erection was raging. Her whole body seemed to tremble, hips twitching. She clamped her legs together trapping my hand, her hands tightly clenched into fists. Her frown deepened. Breath rushed out in very quiet grunts. Her climax peaked with a body shudder. She relaxed, her body going limp, small tremors in her thighs and stomach fading away. Her hands relaxed.

With a deep sigh, Ellie's eyes opened and stared at me with soft eyes.

"How was it?" I asked, gently pulling my hand from between her closed legs.

"Is that what you feel?" she asked quietly.

"Did you feel like your body exploded with good feelings?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

"Do you feel tired now?"

"Uh-huh. Really tired."

"That's how I feel, too."

"Kay. I like it."

Despite a raging erection that screamed for attention, I ignored it, settling for the pure pleasure of pulling Ellie into my arms. She smelled wonderful. Her body felt so good against me. Face to face, Ellie's nose pressed against my chest, and with my hand gently holding her small bum, I let myself bask in the perfection of a daughter's love. It felt even better when she whispered to me.

"I had a nice birthday, Daddy. Thanks."

That one act, touching my little girl and bringing her to a climax, changed me completely. I slid into a sexual relationship with Ellie willingly and what shocked me was the love and desire I discovered. Ellie flourished from the attention and closeness, and through her, seeing her healthier and happier, despite the sexual side to our relationship, I found peace, a state of grace where the world was right again. I basked in her happiness, her joy, and her excitement. I lived a world of firsts and it was thrilling.

The first morning after bringing her to a climax Ellie rewarded me with bright smiles. She rewarded me with a soft, sexy and innocent kiss on my lips, and soapy little hands in the shower. Sweet release flooded my body with endorphins, semen erupting with surprising strength.

For the first time I knelt and washed her, bringing out furious giggles when my fingers washed under ticklish armpits. I discovered the sensual joy of washing slender arms, her back, and sliding fingertips through the tight valley formed by little buttocks. I washed silky young skin and discovered an appreciation for her small feet and let the joy of hearing her giggles replenish me when washing each little toe. Through touch I discovered how many curves she actually had on her ten-year-old body.

I also discovered how fast my body recovered from a climax, a partial erection forming when I finally soaped-up my daughter's little pussy. I had found a new erotic addiction; washing my little girl.

Our sexy play, still quite innocent, involved me caressing her at night over her panties and inducing sexy, sweet little climaxes, always soft, quiet little climaxes. It grew from there, Ellie recovering, "Your turn", and finding my erection, stroking it gently and with increasing expertise until I'd explode, semen erupting in a crash of pleasure, always, always followed by cuddling.

It was my suggestion she leave her nightshirt or pajamas off when in bed. It had nothing to do with keeping our clothes unstained by semen, but everything to do with my desire to feel naked skin against naked skin. I found the simple act of slipping my hand inside her panties to be a singular act of eroticism that hit me hard every time. And nothing could compare to the excitement of drawing little panties down. There were other benefits, too. That first time, with panties pulled down to her knees, I discovered how silky Ellie's little pussy really was. I also discovered it was quite dry, which was why she'd preferred touching herself with soapy hands. That small problem was resolved with precum on my finger. And that had a surprising effect.

Ellie's hairless little pussy felt completely different with a bit of silken moisture. Her labia parted and hugged my fingertip. Her little clitoris felt like a hard tiny bead. Heat surrounded my fingertip and when she climaxed from slippery manual stimulation she gasped louder, shook harder, trembled and gripped my forearm. Recovered, she told me, "It's much better like that, Daddy."

But it was a raspberry on her tummy that introduced oral sex to our relationship.

In bed we groped, tickled and caressed in a playful way. Movements slowly calmed as touches became softer evolving into a gentle caress of her beautiful nakedness, sliding little panties down and off. I drew the covers down to appreciate her. Ellie's slender young body aroused me powerfully. Her pre-pubescence excited me. My love for her acted like a magnifying glass, intensifying everything. I'd kissed a small neck, nuzzled and smooched with her in fun. My hand had caressed the magnificent shape of her mons while I kissed a little areola and tiny nipple. Under her areola I actually felt a developing hardness. It was thrilling. Ellie was beginning the journey towards puberty. It excited me to think I was going to be able to track the changes in her body. I was going to be able to experience her little boobs form and the arrival of body hair in interesting places. How did it arrive? How did it spread?

Ellie giggled at my gentle kiss of her areola, a wonderful sound that affects fathers in a special way. Pleasure flowed through me. I smiled and kissed her tummy before giving her a loud raspberry. It generated a storm of beautiful giggles.

But when I inhaled, the faintest wisp of a sweet, musky and alluring scent filled my nostrils. My eyes immediately dropped to Ellie's little pussy, mounded and hairless rising high and full at her groin. The mysterious, intoxicating scent called to me so strongly I moved down and kissed her mons. It was thick and silky soft and yielding under my lips. I was very surprised to find it coated in invisible baby hair, what I called bum-fluff. This close her scent was slightly stronger. My erection strained almost painfully. Could Ellie actually be aroused? Moist?

She was! Settled between her bent legs, thighs pressed slightly against my head, her watchful eyes studying me intently, my lips touched her cleft in a soft, brushing kiss. Traces of moisture made my lips feel cool. I tasted.

Deep, earthshaking tremors cascaded over me. My cock ached. Ellie's pussy tasted like the purest ambrosia with a hint of sexy. It was a heady combination of subtle clean and earthy arousal but muted by her youth. It was dizzyingly delicious.

"Mmm," I said with a smile.

Ellie smiled slightly. She was still studying me intently. This was all new to her.

My eyes dipped. Breath caught in my throat. Ellie's sweet little pussy filled the space between young thighs. Her cleft was short, maybe finger-length, and slightly flowered open revealing a long clitoral hood held softly by plump labia. Moisture glistened on the lower part where labia merged. My heart thumped heavily, cock ached. Deep between young lips, at the base of her short cleft, a tiny dark spot was visible, the entrance to my daughter's vagina. The shine of arousal reflected light, her cleft red inside, inner labia tiny and undeveloped.

The powerful pull drew my lips. I kissed my daughter's cleft, moisture on my lips. My eyes closed. I concentrated. The tip of my tongue touched heat, and moistness, and silky skin, and a little clitoral button. My body shuddered.

Hands slipped under small buttocks to cup them, so intensely erotic. Precum leaked making me hump the bed uncontrollably to stimulate my crown. I swallowed her ambrosia.

Sensual flavor covered my tongue unlike anything I'd ever tasted. Light and aromatic yet stunningly alluring, Ellie's moist arousal was clean, earthy and attractive. Pressing lips to her small pussy and nose to her clitoris, I probed the stunningly small entrance to her vagina. It was slippery, heated, silky, her labia hugging the tip of my tongue. Pressing, exploring, her entrance yielded very slightly. Eyes closed to concentrate on the sensations bombarding me, I drew my tongue up through her silken cleft, across her urethra and up to her small clitoris.

Sweet buttocks flexed and clenched in my palms. Ellie's thighs gently squeezed my head. I teased her clit carefully. Unbelievably my little girl start to respond, moving gently. Her pelvis curled slightly to press her pussy against my mouth. I encouraged her with my hands, lifting her buttocks and relaxing. Small movements gradually gained strength and length.

Eyes now open, seeing Ellie from between her legs, her mons rising seductively, her pussy rubbing against my mouth, I watched her close her eyes. Her hands form into fists. I sensed tremors in her body, her thighs trembling. Familiar signs emerged, a frown, shortness of breath. My little girl was nearing her climax. Her little pussy was slippery and wet, my saliva adding to her moisture. She humped my face. Her mouth opened slightly. Breath panted.

And then I watched the magnificence of a young girl experiencing a powerful orgasm. Her chest flushed red. She held her breath frowning deeply. Her small body paused all movement, thighs trembling. Silence reigned for a second . . . breath exploded with a grunt, body collapsing to the bed, her legs clamped closed against my ears. She let out a little cry and humped up, the flush on her chest reaching her neck. Ellie climaxed harder than I'd seen, her small body heaving and hunching, twisting as if it was too much to take. Her face scrunched up as if in pain and, worried, I eased off, pulling my wet face from her pussy. Ellie collapsed, limp, chest heaving as residual waves from her orgasm shook through her body.

Moving up, I gathered her in my arms. My erection slipped between her thighs and along her pussy. She twitched at the contact.

Through her back I could feel her little heart racing. Her breathing eventually slowed, body calmed, limpness arriving as if she'd been drained of all energy.

I held her to me, one hand on her back, one on her sweet little bum, my erection nestled between her thighs. I had this urge inside, a driving need to stroke. In this position it felt almost as if I was having sex with her.

Despite the large presence between her legs, Ellie slipped into sleep, her breath falling into a gentle rhythm. I kissed her damp brow and held her, my erection pulsing strongly. With her moist pussy pressed to my shaft it almost felt like I was penetrating her. The sensations were powerful and demanding. I ached for release yet didn't want to disturb her. I knew how wonderful it was to sleep after a strong orgasm.

Holding her small bottom, feeling her delicate body warm against me, I couldn't resist. I moved my erection very slightly, a microscopic movement. The sensation was amazing. I did it again, cock swelling. It was stupendously difficult to deny the urge to stroke and, if anything, it made every sensation stronger. Closing my eyes, holding Ellie's small body to me, inhaling the unique scent of a little girl who had just climaxed, a powerful force gathered strength inside me, an upsurge of pressure.

It built to excruciating levels, demanding me to stroke, to stimulate my erection. I refused. I denied. The surge crashed into me, cock swelling, and I came in a breath-stealing explosion of ecstasy, semen jetting out onto the sheet. My body trembled as I tried to restrain movement and it only increased every small sensation; semen gathering, pulsing up my aching shaft, crown swelling, cum exploding in a painful burst, dizzyingly blissful pleasure crashing in over me. I gasped silently, held my darling's little bottom tighter, her sweet thighs cradling me and drowned in the orgasm that took hold, cum exploding, unbelievable rapture flooding my body. My cock ached, swelled, spit, semen exploding, ecstasy stealing my breath. I came in one of the most intense climaxes I could remember, made stronger by not moving.

Relief coursed through me when it crested and passed. Muscles, held under tight rein, were let free. I melted. Sleep, like heroin, took me away.

Things didn't go well, though.

Ellie started exhibiting precocious behavior - asking for a kiss, cuddling in my lap and deliberately seeing if I developed an erection, or occasionally groping - most likely because of the excitement in her newfound activity; sexual interaction with me. It created a huge and dangerous problem one Thursday mid-morning when we were grocery shopping. I was studying cereals on the shelf, trying to decide if Lucky Charms would be okay for her - was it too much sugar or could I indulge her sweet tooth? Suddenly I jumped when a hand grabbed my crotch. Ellie was feeling me.

Panic hit. My heart raced. Four other shoppers were in the aisle! Reaching down I grabbed her hand hard and pulled it away, hissing, "Don't!" harshly in an automatic reaction.

Ellie looked shocked. I saw her eyes go wide and glisten, the precursor to tears. Damn! Damn! Bending down I swept her into my arms and carried her, shopping cart forgotten. We left Ralph's, me whispering, "Don't cry, honey." She did anyway, silently.

With the passenger door open, I sat holding Ellie in my lap, whispering to her gently until her tears dried. There, in Ralph's parking lot, I had a chat with her, sun beating down, shoppers arriving and departing, some mothers glancing our way.

"Sweetheart, you should never do that when we're in public," I said softly, my heart still thumping hard.

"I only wanted to see if you were missing Mom," she snuffled, her face buried in my neck.

My hand caressed her slender back gently, trying to calm her . . . and me. "Ellie, what we do is private. It is only for when we're home and alone. No one can ever know."

"Why?"

"Because what we do is very special. You can't tell anyone. Not even you very best friends," I answered.

She cuddled and whispered, "Kay." A moment later she added, "You scared me."

"Sorry, honey. You scared me, too."

That event was traumatic enough that Ellie stayed close for the next couple of days. But from then on all the sexual relationship was firmly limited to the bedroom and bathroom, and she accepted it. I gave my daughter soft orgasms either with a gentle touch or stronger ones with my mouth when she asked for them at night. She stroked my erection to relieve the stress and, more often than not, brought me to a climax in the shower when I'd get the inevitable erection from washing her.

Over the next few weeks, things seemed to improve with Ellie to the point where I thought she might be ready to visit her friends without my presence. I was beginning to feel confident. The subtle growth of our sexual involvement, the way it had gradually become part of our relationship, had sneaked in on me. I was relaxed, accepting and enjoying. But one shocking image tore away the blanket of comfort.

I was awakened one morning by the most incredible, most amazing, moist sensation, almost as if I was having intercourse. It was so erotic it had my pulse pounding and morning erection straining painfully . . . until I opened my eyes and discovered what it was.

I lost my erection. It deflated. My little girl, my Ellie, had the crown in her mouth and the image was so startling, so contrary to the image I had of her, it was as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me. I hadn't truly understood what I was doing to Ellie until that moment.

I think, in my mind, her stroking me was okay. Why? I don't know. I think me giving her pleasure was acceptable, no harm to her, just pleasure. But seeing my erection in her mouth was sexual interaction on a whole new level.

There's always a line in the sand, even if we don't know where it is. There are always limits beyond which we fear to pass, or are morally restrained from crossing. Regret and guilt and shame reside across that line. They are warning bumps that inform us how far we've crossed by the intensity of their impact, and waiting far beyond that line is fear. The fear and shame that doused my erection like a blowtorch on snow shook me to my core.

Blue topaz eyes stared at my flaccid member. They turned to me. "What happened?" was asked with puzzlement.

What do you say? Do you demand to know where on earth she got the idea to put my erection into her mouth? Of course not. It was me giving her oral sex. I had demonstrated. I was responsible! Do you tell her how beyond the pale her action was? Of course not. When had I taught her the limits, that line in the sand?

"I'm just sleepy," I answered, hiding the fear writhing through my gut.

"Kay," Ellie accepted as if it was normal. She knew no better.

Through the day, Ellie behaving perfectly normally, I reached a decision. It had to stop. I decided a slow withdrawal was in order. I wouldn't mention this morning. I'd slowly discourage her from touching me and gradually stop touching her, starting with no more oral stimulation. Eventually we'd return to a non-sexual relationship.

For the next week things went according to plan. Our sexual interaction gradually diminished. I pleaded fatigue occasionally or pretended to be asleep as tools for withdrawal. But a side effect emerged that flummoxed me. The less we did, the more Ellie regressed, reluctant to let me out of her sight and when she did - to go to the bathroom or kitchen on her own - she'd come scuttling back as if her ass was on fire. I was confounded. I couldn't begin to understand why and I'd painted myself into a real corner. I needed a professional opinion, a psychiatrist or psychologist. But how exactly would I explain? By law they'd be required to report me for sexual abuse as soon as I told them the problem.

The only option I had was to talk to my daughter. So I did. One early evening sitting in front of the TV watching a rerun of Home Improvement, I asked Ellie what was bothering her. Why was she behaving as if I'd leave her again? What was she afraid of?

Her answer floored me.

"You don't love me as much anymore," she replied sincerely.

"Yes I do," I interrupted forcefully.

And as if she hadn't heard me, she added, "It scares me, like you're going away. And you've forgotten all about Mom, too. You don't love her anymore. And you gave all her stuff away."

In a few simple sentences Ellie had hoisted me on my own petard. I had no answer. I had no comeback. I had linked sexual play tightly to love for her and her mother without realizing it. Silence ensued. I pondered and wrestled and saw no solution, except one; continue with the sexual interaction and hope she'd naturally grow out of it. And in my naîveté I thought I could control things; find a balance of sexual interaction that would satisfy Ellie's need without crossing that line.

How stupid of me. I didn't understand that the line wasn't immutable. It flexed and shifted like sand in the Kalahari Desert.

It was shocking how easy it was to slip ever deeper into a relationship with Ellie. I enjoyed giving her pleasure. I adored her soft climaxes, so sensual and exciting. I loved tasting her and watching her cum; pure erotic innocence. And I started to become addicted to her stroking me. The first major shift of that line in the sand was waking up to that exquisite wet feeling on my crown. I knew immediately what it was and stilled my first reaction - to reach down and gently remove her mouth from my cock.

A soft little tongue caressed away my resolve. A gentle kiss on the crown tipped my desire. This was Ellie loving my cock. This wasn't her simply handling my morning erection to make it cum. I broke another barrier by gently holding her head and, for the first time, pressing my crown into her small mouth. It was a huge psychological step; I was actively participating, actively encouraging, my crown disappearing, an inch of my shaft slipping between soft little lips before slowly withdrawing, shaft glistening with saliva, only to press back into her warm, moist mouth. I held her head and fucked her mouth very gently. When I felt my cock swell and climax start, I pulled my erection from her mouth, semen spurting up over my stomach, erection flexing, rising spitting, blissful release flooding my body.

That line in the sand had taken a major shift. I felt no shame or guilt when post-orgasmic lethargy pervaded me. I couldn't. Ellie's bright blue topaz eyes were filled with excitement. Her smile was so bright and proud. She looked pleased with herself and in her pleasure I felt myself give up. I could feel those worries and concerns about our sexual dalliances melt away. In Ellie's bright, happy mood, in her innocent pleasure at giving me pleasure, I found peace and freedom from doubts. I found that state of grace again and in my mind I hoped Mary would understand.

Our relationship had permanently changed. Experimentation arrived and oh my! In the shower that morning I discovered how vigorous my libido was. Soaping up Ellie's body I started caressing more than washing, teasing tiny nipples until they beaded up. I explored the sensuous shape of her spine and how her bottom swelled out from her lower back. I probed her tight bum crack and actually felt my cock thicken when fingertip rubbed her tightly closed anus.

Pulling her slender little body back against me, my hands caressed her flat chest. I sought and found the slight hardness under her areolae that promised pubescence was right around the corner. Hands slid down over her flat little tummy to wash boney hips and the front of slender thighs before rising and merging over her sexy, chubby little pussy. My lips kissed the top of her head.

"I love washing you," I said softly.

Ellie squirmed against me in response. My cock thickened, pressed to her back. Slippery, soapy hands probed the deep side creases of her pussy. Ellie shuffled parting her legs slightly and I was fully erect by the time my soapy hand cupped her ten-year-old pubis. Holding her chest with one hand, I bent and kissed her wet hair, my other hand caressing. Ellie's tightly closed labia yielded to my middle finger, hugging the tip in succulent warmth. Her hands rose to hold onto my arm across her chest. She leaned back against my erection.

Her body shivered when I found her small clitoris. Her hands tightened on my arm when I caressed. And, unbelievably, Ellie's hips twitched when the tip of my finger touched her entrance buried deep in her cleft. I actually felt the tip of my finger slightly penetrate her; a tiny opening stretching.

Returning to her small clitoris I started stroking gently, masturbating my little girl. My erection was hard and throbbing, pressed to her trembling body, sweet buttock against my thighs. It was thrilling to feel my daughter move, hunching her pussy and responding to my fondling. It was stunningly sexy to feel her breathing faster, her head bowing forward. She was melting. I had to hold her tighter to stop her from slipping to the tub floor. And then my little girl climaxed spectacularly. Her little body twitched and jerked. She gasped loudly and her legs clamped together on my hand, shaking and climaxing, hips jerking spasmodically. Ellie gasped and grunted lightly through a beautiful climax, melting against me when it peaked and passed, her little body slumping in my arms.

With warm water caressing us, I held my daughter, thrilled with the experience. Nothing could be better, I thought. Nothing could compare to feeling her sweet orgasm. It was just so gratifying to give her pleasure and I wanted to do it again and again. It was sexy, sensual, and beautiful. How could this be wrong?

Eventually Ellie stirred, standing up and moving away from me. Blue topaz eyes glinted up at me. A radiant smile emerged.

"Wow! That one was sooo good, Dad," she exclaimed, her eyes dropping to my throbbing erection. And in a phrase I was to hear often in my future, Ellie said, "Your turn," her eyes studying my thick erection.

Her hand reached out and wrapped around my shaft. I shuddered. Her other hand joined the first and the sight of two small hands barely able to cover my shaft had me trembling. I waited for her to stroke, perhaps with some soap added. But she didn't.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, I was immobile, pulse pounding, when Ellie bent and kissed the tip. She glanced up at me as if checking my reaction. I smiled. Ellie smiled, eyes bright and excited. Her lips kissed the tip again sending a pulse of desire through me. Lips parted. My sight narrowed. Ellie slowly took the crown in, her small mouth opening wide, lips stretching until they slipped over the ridge. With two hands holding the shaft, Ellie started bobbing her mouth up and down demonstrating what she'd just learned that morning. Jeeezus.

In a languid motion Ellie sucked, bobbed and slowly brought me to the edge of a climax, the occasional rasp of teeth only heightening my excitement. My cock swelled dangerously. It was so hard to hold back. Poised to pull her mouth off, her soft, soft tongue entered the fray, teasing and caressing the rim of my crown. She sucked suddenly. It was the last straw. Watching my little girl with my erection in her small mouth, feeling her loving me with her tongue was more than I could take. My orgasm was spontaneous and powerful, semen racing up to erupt into her mouth. Jesus! I was cumming in her mouth!

Another bigger, harder pulse hit, cum exploding, pleasure crashing in bringing dizziness. Another hard, hard pulse hit. Ellie's cheeks puffed slightly and she sucked! Suddenly I was holding her head and fucking her mouth with micro thrusts, semen exploding, ecstasy slamming into me. I came forcefully, erection swelling in her hands, semen spurting and not one drop showed. The shudder that tore through me was painful. Ellie was swallowing my cum! My cock pulsed and ached, semen spurting, my orgasm cresting, heart pounding. I rode my climax, drowning in the pleasure, living for the moment, cumming, cumming in my daughter's mouth.

Knees shook when I finally calmed down. I lowered myself to the tub and sat, still feeling lightheaded. Ellie smiled and started washing her hair as if nothing had happened or what had happened was completely normal.

ELLIE COULDN'T REMEMBER BEING so happy. Ever since she'd kissed Dad's penis and he'd let her suck it, he'd changed. The shadows that had haunted his eyes and constant worry when he looked at her had disappeared. Now he laughed and smiled all the time.

She loved how touchy-feely he was, constantly grabbing and hugging her, sometimes kissing her cheek softly. She loved cuddling to his side and hearing him laugh at the television, a laugh she could feel resonating in him.

Almost every night she got to feel good. Climaxes relaxed her so much, as if her body just melted. She adored how much Dad loved her. And she liked giving Dad pleasure, too. She liked how his eyes would almost cross when he'd cum and how he always cuddled and hugged after. She never tired of hearing him tell her he loved her after, too.

Somehow it made her feel better. She didn't feel like he was going to leave her, or disappear when she left the room. Without realizing it she was off doing things on her own, or sitting playing with her iPhone when he left the room, and she wasn't scared! It felt good.

But when she discovered the Internet on her iPhone, a whole new world opened up to her. Feeling naughty she looked up sex and what she found amazed her. She felt guilty pretending she was over eighteen when the site asked, but wow! There was so much more to this sex stuff. Had Mom really done those things with Dad? If she had, did Dad miss doing them? Look at that one! The guy had his erection up her bum!

She pondered and, when Dad wasn't around she watched more, learned more. Maybe Dad would like to do all those other sex things with her. She didn't want him to get sad again because he missed Mom. His sadness made her sad, too.

She'd ask Mom in her dream.

I STUDIED ELLIE WITH an assessing eye every day. I watched for a return of precocious behavior and lived in fear of some adverse side effect of this most unusual relationship. I found nothing except for a bright, happy ten-year-old girl.

A long-lost silly side had emerged, her youthfulness shining through. She became involved in living, constantly on her iPhone, be it texting her friends, playing games, or chatting. She had me buying Apple Store cards on almost every shopping trip to fund her ravenous desire for apps. She complained when ordered to help do chores and complained continuously while doing them.

In every way Ellie had returned to her old self. It was a relief that there were no outward signs of our illicit activities. But almost every night she'd express unrestrained joy when I told her it was time for bed. I'd never seen a child who liked going to bed so much. Then again, I too felt unrestrained joy.

Summer was slipping away. The new school year was approaching and I wasn't sure how she'd take the news she'd be going back to school when it started. That was one announcement I was holding back on.

Her time away from me gradually increased demonstrating her comfort that I'd be there when she got back from wherever in the house she'd disappeared to. If I moved around while she was gone she'd call out to me just to hear my voice, reassurance I assumed.

Then two things happened, both relating to our sexual relationship. First was brought on by a horny-frazzled mind; my mind. The second had me regretting ever having bought that iPhone for her and later thanking the Gods I had.

The first occurred just after eating Ellie's delectable little pussy. Her climaxes were so beautiful to behold, so utterly sexy, and would make me so hard. There was never any screaming or thrashing or loudness to it. When Ellie came it was with body clenches, hands curled into fists, small hips twitching, legs clamping closed, stomach muscles straining, and a gorgeous frown on her sweet face, occasionally with perspiration emerging on her brow. Her orgasms were quiet and intense and so sexy. One of my favorite parts was waiting and watching for her eyes to open after she'd cum. They would look almost sleepy and relaxed and soft and loving, and I adored it.

But this particular time, with Ellie calm, her chest slightly flushed and nose flaring as she breathed deeply, on her back with knees raised and parted, I rose up onto my knees, my erection thick and heavy and demanding attention. This time I looked at her reddened and saliva-glistening pussy, how her short cleft was so tightly closed, the tip of her little clit peeking out, and I suddenly had an image of that cleft and pussy covered in pearly white cum. It was shockingly arousing and I wanted to experience it.

Ellie's eyes watched me, calm and soft. Resting on my heels, I lifted her legs over my thighs. Her cleft remained mostly closed, plump labia holding her clitoris like a treasure. Her small buttocks swelled out below and, where labia ended deep between her legs, a small depression indicated the location of her ten-year-old vagina.

Leaning over her I kissed her gently. "Don't move," I instructed.

Ellie nodded and watched, calm, relaxed, her blue topaz eyes soft. A small smile played across her lips when she studied my erection, big and pulsing as it hovered over her little pussy. My arousal was at a feverish level, the point where all is possible, everything acceptable, nothing capable of shocking. I stroked my shaft staring at Ellie's little pussy. The size difference was shocking, my crown wider than the lower part of her pussy. I stroked myself imagining her cleft stretched around my thick shaft. It was a thrilling and erotic image.

Precum leaked. I spread it over the head and shaft and pressed my cock down. The tip touched Ellie's pussy. I moaned silently. I was huge. Her hairless pussy was beautifully small and young and desirable. The fugue-like state of extreme arousal let me imagine actually penetrating her, actually having intercourse with my little girl, making love to her.

My erection strained. I stroked. I envisioned. I came. Hot, viscous semen spurted out weakly to fall to the bed. A tsunami hit me making me gasp for breath, the second surge of cum exploding out to spray into her cleft, filling it. Pressure squeezed my brain. I gripped my cock tightly and another huge, thunderous wave of pleasure crashed over me. A long heavy pulse of cum exploded, splashing over her cleft and up onto her plump bald mons, semen slipping over and running down to her stomach in a thick, slow moving river.

Suddenly I was cumming like mad, semen spurting out in glorious pulse after pulse, white pearlescent cum covering my daughter's hairless pussy and dripping down between her buttocks, and sliding over her mound to collect in a pool on her lower stomach. Sweet blue topaz eyes watched as I came, my erection straining and spurting, straining and spurting, pleasure thundering through me making my heart race. It was agonizingly pleasurable. The sight of my little girl, my child, covered in cum was stunningly sexy. The climax peaked with roaring in my ears, cock spitting in weaker and weaker pulses, hot cum glistening on her. It passed suddenly, robbing my body of strength and bringing drowsiness and lethargy and intense satisfaction.

Unable to resist, I laid down on her. Her arms welcomed me. She smiled softly. My cock softened. Ellie's cum-soaked pussy pressed against my lower stomach, her knees pressed out and down to the bed.

"Thank you," I whispered. "That was so good."

It was. It had been, perhaps, the sexiest experience I'd ever had. But, I didn't understand how dangerous it had been, how it had completely erased that line in the sand.

The second thing that happened was a few days later.

I couldn't remember ever being so self-conscious and embarrassed in my life. Every shopper knew I had that small bottle of KY Lubricating Gel in our shopping cart. Every store employee was staring at me knowingly. It felt like everyone knew I'd bought it just so I could have anal sex with my ten-year-old daughter. And they all looked at Ellie who either had her hand in mine or hovered close.

My heart felt like it was going to burst it was beating so hard, sweat dripping under my arms. That small package, a gray box with large KY emphasized by a blue background, stood out sharply in the cart. To hide it I bought more items, tossing them in, things I didn't need. And then we had to check out.

Other shoppers crowded around. They peered into the cart and watched my hands shaking. Murmurs seemed to swell when that little gray box was put onto the conveyor belt. A garbled announcement was made over the store PA system announcing my intent to everyone. The teenage cashier slowed down when she picked up the box and looked at me with knowing eyes. Perspiration dotted my brow. I couldn't look at her in the eyes, glancing around to avoid any eye contact.

Hustling Ellie out of Safeway, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Damn but I hadn't felt that nervous since I'd bought my first condom at fourteen. This was all Ellie's fault. She'd . . .

When Ellie had suggested we try sex, I'd been confused.

"That's what we're doing," I'd told her.

Ellie had disagreed and pulled out her iPhone, finger flicking, thumbs typing. "Like this," she'd said, handing me her phone.

Dumbfounded, I'd watched a video of a guy having anal sex with a girl on all fours in front of him. How had Ellie found this? And how come I hadn't thought about restricting her access to the Internet?

"Did you do that with Mom?"

"I . . ." Words failed me. Blue topaz eyes peered up at me expecting an answer. I'd nodded, yes.

"Did you like it? Did Mom like it?"

I'd nodded, yes.

"Then we should try," Ellie stated calmly.

Quite stupidly, I'd answered, "Your mother was bigger," still befuddled by my daughter surfing porn. What else had she seen?

"We can try, can't we? You said you liked it."

Perhaps if we'd not had a sexual aspect to our life I would have refused. No. I definitely would have. But the fact was we did, a very satisfying one that, from what I would tell, we both enjoyed. The memory of cumming on my daughter's pussy and imagining actually penetrating her was still a very strong and arousing one. Trying to deny the spike of interest that hit was ridiculous.

"Maybe," I'd answered, not convinced but unable to dismiss.

Ellie had accepted it casually and went about doing her thing. But it had preyed on my mind, hovering and demanding me to imagine. It came to mind when we'd sat in the cinema and Ellie had climbed onto my lap, her small bum pressed to me. And, when I'd spotted the supermarket on the way home, I'd automatically made a detour.

Embarrassment finally faded by the time we pulled into our drive, displaced by excited anticipation. Anal sex with Ellie? Thrilling.

Tension built through the early evening as dinner was made, Ellie actually sitting in the living room alone watching television. Homemade hamburgers were prepared; a select blend of ground beef with Wisconsin cheddar hidden in the middle so it would ooze out deliciously. Oven fries accompanied the burger. It was one of Ellie's favorite meals - as long as there was plenty of ketchup.

Sipping a beer, the BBQ sizzling, mouthwatering scent of charred beef making my stomach rumble, I became introspective. It was the return of a partial erection that made me pause. This step with Ellie was a definitive one. It was full-on sex, penetrative sex, even if only anal. My mind played both sides of the coin. There was no question in my mind I was excited by the prospect. Was that horniness slanting my better judgment? It must be, I decided. I'd never have believed I'd be attracted to a ten-year-old, but I was. Ellie was an intoxicating mix; sweetly loving and excitingly sexual. It was an irresistible combination.

Hovering in the background of my mind was the sharp memory of Ellie's agony after Mary passed away. I lived in fear of ever experiencing anything like it again. Countering that painful memory was her recovery, so intricately linked to our sexual affection. Was I rationalizing my actions? Yes. I was to some degree.

But Ellie was truly better. She was happy. Sipping the final dregs of beer, I admitted to myself that this step, anal sex with my daughter, had nothing to do with her. I knew I could limit her to what we'd been doing and she'd be happy. But I wanted. I desired. It aroused me.

"Dad?"

"Out back," I yelled through the open kitchen window. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she yelled back.

Ellie was just checking, again. It was her sonar, sending out an inquiry, my voice reflecting back to her, her reassurance.

Dinner was voraciously consumed by us both, Ellie only finishing half of the burger. We watched television, Ellie snuggled to my side. She seemed oblivious of any plans for that night. I sipped beer and considered the problem.

Anal sex with her was going to hurt. It would have to. So how could I minimize the pain? Three ways, I decided; lots of lubrication, gently stretch her with my fingers first, and get her so aroused the pain would be muted, almost part of the pleasure.

But how would we have anal sex? It had to be in a way that she could change her mind and pull away if it was too uncomfortable or too painful. Spooning wouldn't work. On top of me wouldn't, either. And her flat on her front with a pillow under her hips wouldn't let her pull away. Same for bent over the side of the bed.

She'd have to be on hands and knees, me behind her. Yes. That would work. Jesus, the image made me fully erect. It was difficult to wait for bedtime.

I was achingly erect, rigid, Ellie cuddled to me. She'd brushed her teeth, her sweet chaste kisses minty-fresh. We fondled and groped and kissed and played. My hand caressed soft white cotton panties and then burrowed inside them, fondling small, cool buttocks and exploring a deep valley. Ellie's hand fished inside my boxers, gripping my aching erection.

Kissing tiny nipples, I eased cotton panties down, Ellie lifting her bum for me. My lips trailed down her slender body to kiss her mons. She reacted, parting her legs. When I shuffled down between them, Ellie raised her head.

"I thought we were going to try that other thing," she said. "The one I showed you."

"We are," I answered. "But you don't just do it, honey. You have some fun first."

Her head flopped back onto the pillow. "Kay."

I could read Ellie's body now. I knew her signs. Kissing her succulent little pussy I slowly increased her arousal, rewarded when the smallest trace of delicious moisture emerged from the bottom of her silky cleft. Her hips twitched slightly.

"Get up on your hands and knees, Ellie," I encouraged, slipping my hand under when she rolled over, drawing her light body up onto all fours. A gorgeous immature small bum rounded and curved, little buttocks looking sexy and desirable. Despite her pussy being so petite, it oozed out at the base of her buttocks and between slender thighs looking full and lush and arousing. Above, her tiny anus showed. My cock throbbed. Jesus her bum was small.

Reaching for the KY, I dribbled it into her bum crack.

"Cold!" she gasped, shivering.

"Sorry."

I lubed my cock, spreading plenty of KY. Using both thumbs I slowly spread lubrication over her anus and down, sliding my thumb along her closed hairless cleft, pressing and slipping it into her silken cleft on the upstroke to tease her clit. Ellie's pussy was very slippery.

Using gentle pressure, I pressed my pinky to her anus. It resisted. She clenched her buttocks.

"Try to relax," I suggested.

Caressing her anus, I tried again with no luck. Ellie wasn't aroused enough. She was nervous, her body taut. Shuffling slightly, gripping my slippery shaft, I pressed the tip to her little cleft, the crown flattening slightly.

Rubbing the entrance of her tiny anus gently, I started sliding the tip of my cock up and down her cleft. It was a shockingly erotic sight. Just the size difference had my blood pounding; a thick erection swiping up and down an immature little pussy.

For the next few minutes that's all we did. Slowly Ellie's labia spread to hug the tip of my cock. I needed her to be very aroused for this. She had to be horny enough that pain would actually feel good.

Pressing the crown into her cleft, sliding it up and down, and pressing a finger against her anus, Ellie began to move with me, a sign of her arousal. She pressed back at my cock slightly and her anus yielding a bit to my fingertip. Everything was very, very slippery. Her cleft felt like molten silk, warm and caressing my flared tip. Excitement built. The sight was phenomenal and just picturing penetrating her sexy little bum was driving my blood pressure up.

With each stroke of my crown, it slipped over her clit and up to catch on her perineum then back down. Ellie started to sigh, both of our bodies shivering. I wasn't paying enough attention, concentrating on trying to ease the tip of my pinkie into her bum, lost in the sensual caress of our movements.

Ellie gasped when my cock slipped up over her clit. She jerked back and cried out when my crown slipped up suddenly, caught on her perineum and penetrated her little pussy forcefully, labia stretched massively, a tight ring squeezing open and over the helmet. I gasped at the sudden sensation of penetrating my daughter, the sight unbelievable. Her pained cry sent shivers of fear through me. I jerked away, pulling my erection out, pink decorating the crown.

"Jesus, Ellie," I gasped. "I'm so sorry," I mumbled stupidly, reaching under her, pulling her to me as I tumbled onto my side. Ellie was trembling but silent.

We spooned. I caressed her side quietly asking her if she was alright. There were no tears, just a small, slender body trembling against me. Worry built. I brushed her hair away from her face. How had it happened? Why hadn't I paid attention to what I was doing?

"That was the wrong hole," she said matter-of-factly. "I thought you were going to put it in my bum."

Laughter overcame me. I don't know why. Tension released? Or because she sounded like she was chiding me? There was no trace of pain or fear in her voice. Then she giggled.

The relief that washed over me was wonderful. I hugged her and nuzzled her hair, chuckling the whole time. Ellie's body shook from quiet giggles. Her scrawny little bum pressed back at me. Hugging her tight, my erection returned, poking at her thighs.

Ellie stopped giggling and lifted her leg up over my thigh. A small hand reached down to grip my slippery erection. I let her guide it this time. She began to rub the tip through her cleft, over her clitoris and back, resuming our previous motion. This time my heart was racing when she moved the tip around, easing it against the tiny entrance to her vagina. Holding me there, Ellie started tugging my cock and pressing herself against the tip at the same time. It was a very gentle motion, slight pressure, ease off, slight pressure. It was unbelievably erotic, on the cusp of penetrating my little girl.

Silence filled the bedroom. Only heavy breathing could be heard. In slow motion I experienced that amazing sensation again, labia hugging, moisture, slippery silken heat spreading, and, aching from the eroticism, my ten-year-olds vaginal entrance dilated. A tight band oozed down over my crown squeezing me exquisitely tightly. Pressure suddenly abated, I slipped in, her entrance tight on my shaft, the crown enveloped in liquid velvet.

We were both breathing hard. My cock was throbbing like mad. Through the palm of my hand I felt her little heart racing. Motion stopped, the head of my cock gripped tightly.

"It didn't hurt," she whispered. "Is it all in?"

Smiling, I answered, "No, sweetheart. Just the tip."

"It feels like all of it's inside me."

Her little clench was almost painful. To ease the pain I moved, my cock slipping very slightly deeper. God it was a beautiful feeling, like nothing I'd experienced before. Ellie's pussy was so shockingly tight. Surely she must be hurting.

"Are you sure you're not hurting?" I asked, my erection swelling.

"Uh-huh. But it feels like I'm full, really full."

Despite the thundering desire to thrust and bury myself in her amazing little pussy, I instead reached down to her crotch, cupped her and explored with my fingers. My poor child was stretched hugely. Plump labia were thin, her clit pressed to my shaft. My erection was a monstrous intrusion and I simply couldn't believe it wasn't hurting her.

I kissed her hair and started caressing her clitoris very, very gently. KY made everything slippery.

With Ellie impaled on the tip of my cock and stroking her clitoris, she started responding. Her hands reached for my other arm and held it. She sighed softly, her pussy tightening and relaxing gently. I didn't move.

Ellie sighed a little louder and her bum moved, not much, just a bit, but the sensation was astounding. My crown slipped in a bit and back, liquid velvet caressing, hot, tight and utterly breath-taking. It was a micro movement, but it felt much, much bigger. She did it again. My cock pulsed with pleasure.

Unbelievably, Ellie started moving rhythmically, fucking me with tiny, tiny bum movements and I'd never experienced anything quite so erotic. Her tight pussy caressed my crown. My shaft felt cool, the tip hot. Little fucking movements rubbed the crown, up and down, up and down.

Ellie distracted me, her fingernails digging into my forearm. I realized she was actually close to cumming! Small breaths became pants, her pussy moving sensually. She sighed and moaned, fucking my crown. Her sweet, sexy sounds, her tight caress of my cock, her little bum movements, all assaulted me. My orgasm was close, building. In my mind I pictured my cock swelling and semen exploding up into my little girl, filling her with cum. I shouldn't have.

Restraint snapped. "Oh God Ellie, baby," I gasped. I swelled painfully. Semen rushed up the shaft and heaven arrived with a powerful eruption, hot cum exploding into her. Hearing dimmed. My erection ached and another even harder explosion hit, ecstasy slamming into me. I jerked from the exquisite pleasure. Ellie cried out in my arms. I jerked again, semen jetting out in a painful surge, cock swelling, bliss, bliss. Suddenly I was fucking my little girl, micro movements, fucking and cumming, fucking and cumming, depositing thick semen inside her little pussy. I heaved and came, beautiful, heart-pounding pleasure flooding me. I came hard until empty, drained, exhausted, stomach cramping with the power of my climax.

We stayed home most of the next day. Ellie was moving a bit gingerly. She was sore but assured me repeatedly she'd cum, too. We cuddled in front of the television and watched movie after movie, with popcorn and soda. But every twenty minutes or so she'd get up and go pee. Every time she returned I asked her if she was okay and she'd nod and settle next to me.

It wasn't until close to noon that I discovered what was going on. When I went to pee I discovered a pile of panties on the bathroom floor. At first confused, I bent to pick them up. Understanding hit me and suddenly I had another erection. Whitish dried semen crusted the gusset of her panties. Ellie was leaking my cum! It was a powerful aphrodisiac. I remembered the exquisitely pleasurable feeling of cumming inside her, of actually cumming inside my little girl. Suddenly I wanted her again, now.

Fortunately rational thought retook control. I started hunting through the bathroom cupboards and, under the sink I found what I was looking for; Mary's pads.

Sitting next to Ellie, I handed the box to her casually, as if it was entirely normal. I didn't want to embarrass her.

"Here you go," I said.

She looked at the box, blushed lightly and left.

My erection was complete, thick and rigid. It was imagining what Ellie's panties would look like with a pad at the groin. It was imagining semen leaking into the pad, my semen. It was, more than anything, picturing what my daughter's pussy would look like leaking cum. All those thoughts made my cock ache. Jesus I was horny.

However, despite a preoccupation with my daughter's situation, nothing happened. Ellie expressed no sexual desires. She cuddled and warmed my heart with soft giggles and laughs at our movie marathon. We made a mess with popcorn littered on the floor. She'd occasionally become distracted by a text message on her iPhone and a brief flurry of exchanged messages would follow.

All too soon I completely forgot about my needs. Sipping on beer through the afternoon and evening induced a pleasant buzz. Delivered pizza was voraciously consumed by me, nibbled at by Ellie and, by almost eleven o'clock, we hit the sack.

Ellie declared her intentions by cuddling and promptly falling asleep.

It was several days before she expressed an interest in trying intercourse again. Those several days weren't without pleasure, though. Ellie would stroke me in the shower and bring me to wonderful climaxes. One morning, both of us soapy, I lifted her into my arms. Through everything I'd never taught Ellie how to French kiss. Perhaps it was because, like intercourse and oral sex, it had seemed too adult, a step too far. But in the shower, we experimented and teased. Ellie giggled and played, her tongue childishly frisky. But when she settled down and seriously kissed me, her small mouth opening for my tongue, I discovered a very sexy activity.

Kissing Ellie was very arousing. Her slippery, soapy body felt like satin against me. But when it rubbed on my erection, my hand holding her small bum and her legs wrapped around me, she started murmuring into my mouth and humping me. It was so sensual. Her body was warm and slippery and soft and cuddly. Her tongue was arousing. The scent of soap was everywhere, steam in the air. Feeling her little bum flex and relax drove my excitement higher.

My fingertip found her little vagina and slipped in accidentally, held snugly, her pussy hot and moist. Ellie snorted into my mouth and began humping my finger aggressively, her arms tight around my neck. Slowly more and more of my finger slipped in. God I was on edge. She snorted again when I added a second finger, gasped, trembled and climaxed, humping my fingers hard, her soapy stomach stroking my erection.

The kiss ended. Ellie squeaked and gasped through her orgasm and, lost in the surprising eroticism, I came, cock aching, semen spurting hot and slippery between us. I held her body tight and humped my climaxing little girl, cumming hard and completely, spurting gloriously, erection sliding up and down against her silky soft tummy, semen erupting all over her, cumming in an intensely satisfying climax.

That event resulted in our trying intercourse again. It also tested my beliefs.

ELLIE SPOONED LUCKY CHARMS cereal into her mouth almost robotically. She watched Dad as he made himself toast and coffee. Mom had come back to her in her dreams and told her how proud she was, how much she missed her and loved her. It had made Ellie warm and sad.

She'd asked Mom about the things she was doing with Dad and Mom had smiled. "Are you happy, Baby?" she'd asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Do you love your father?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you like the things you two are doing?"

"Uh-huh. A lot, Mom."

"Then it's fine with me, too. Love your dad for both of us."

It had made Ellie feel good. And yesterday morning when she'd felt Dad's fingers in her it had been the biggest cum yet. She'd talked to Mom about that, too.

"Dad?" she asked, putting her cereal spoon down, trying to get his attention. He turned from the counter and looked at her. "Can we try to do sex properly tonight? I want to and Mom said I was ready."

"That was just a dream, honey. Remember how much you hurt after last time?"

"Nuh-uh! I talked to Mom!" Ellie insisted. "She said you wouldn't believe me, too. She told me to tell you . . ." Ellie paused, head tilted trying to remember. She smiled and continued, "Something like, "Tell your father I've see the truth of him and still love him". What did she mean?"

A CHILL WENT DOWN my spine, my hand suddenly cold. Was it possible? How would Ellie know about that? Only Mary and I knew it. Was my little girl really talking to her mother? NO. Jeez, get a life!

"Mom said that you always liked sex in the shower, too."

My heart thumped uncomfortably. I was a rational, logical person and, while I too dreamed of Mary, I knew it was my subconscious talking to me. But every word out of my little girl's mouth was forcing me to think differently. "What else did your mother tell you?" I asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Ellie picked up her spoon and resumed eating. Between mouthfuls she said, "Mom said you were a boob man but didn't like big ones, and she said you liked to make love with her outside, too."

My knees weakened. I sat. How? How could Ellie know these things?

"She told me to love you enough for her and me . . . and for you to stop always fretting or something."

Blue topaz eyes watched me. They were open, honest and slightly confused with some of the statements. Ellie believed she'd talked to her mother and, from the things she knew, impossible as it seemed, she must have. There was no other explanation.

Tears prickled my eyes when I asked reluctantly, "Is she happy?"

"Uh-huh," Ellie nodded with a beautiful smile, taking another spoonful of Lucky Charms.

"Excuse me for a moment," I said softly.

Alone in the bathroom I cried.

That night in bed Ellie cuddled and watched television until her show finished. As soon as ending credits started her hand began exploring. It toyed with my nipples and headed on a journey south. A small hand found my partially erect penis and soft pleased giggles accompanied every throb as I grew erect from her ministrations.

Rolling her onto her back I shoved the covers down. Ellie was wearing nothing but lemon-yellow panties - my favorite. They were soft, thin cotton and much smaller than I'd thought when we first bought them; bikini-styled with narrow side bands, plain and decorated with a tiny bow on the waist. Light and shadows gave depth to her sensual shape underneath. Soft cotton nestled to her small pubis, elastic slipping deep on either side, the skimpy panties tight enough they made her vulva stand out sharply. A little camel toe showed.

Leaning over her, I kissed sweet lips. Ellie's arms reached and wrapped around my neck. Her mouth opened, tongue emerging to touch mine gently. Kissing my little girl was so erotic. My hand caressed a flat chest, testing the firm little pads forming under her areolae. It passed down over a boney little hip bone and felt the sensual side swell of her petite bottom before rising to press against her cotton covered mons, a sensual hillock at her groin.

I teased and caressed, tracing her short cleft and gently fondling her. Her legs parted to give me access. Fingertips made the journey, tracing a little cleft into the depths, teasing first and slowly adding pressure. Ellie responded, arms tightening and breaths deepening.

Drawing fingers up, I slipped them inside my daughter's sexy panties, caressing silken skin until I cupped a perfect ten-year-old pussy, petite and sensual. Probing between plump labia gently I found moisture, slight moisture, silken, slippery. My heart beat harder.

Easing each side down I worked Ellie's little panties off, breaking the kiss so I could nibble on tiny nipples. Excitement mounted.

"Ready?" I asked softly.

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

Moving between her legs, my erection jutting out and hard, I applied some KY to the tip and shaft. Bending, I kissed her soft sensual mound, my tongue working its way between soft, plump labia. Ellie watched me with her head raised, and sighed when I touched her clitoris, her head falling back onto the pillow. I tasted my little love, sweetly feminine, vaguely musky from arousal. Excitement made me shake and ache and want.

It was time. Rising, I gently arranged her legs over my thighs, shuffling up closer to her on my knees. When my cock jutted out over her small pubis, I gripped my shaft with one hand, the other carefully peeling open her tightly closed cleft. Below the sexy bump of her clitoral hood, her reddened cleft glistened from saliva. Ellie's tiny dark opening was nestled deep at the base. The shock of how small she was hit me again. Somehow she'd stretched to take me. Looking back and forth from my crown to that tiny entrance, it was hard to believe I'd actually penetrated her once before. Would it hurt this time, too?

"Are you sure, Ellie?" I asked, suddenly doubting.

"Uh-huh."

I wasn't. Yet that first touch, the tip kissing her little cleft, magically distracted me. Pulling back slightly, a long silvery string of precum joined us. I touched her cleft again, the crown completely filling her. Moving my cock gently side to side and up and down, Ellie's labia slowly, slowly spread, bulging slightly. More and more of my crown nestled into her cleft until, with a shudder, I felt the resistance of her entrance.

The sight both thrilled and scared me. Ellie's little pussy made me appear so big. Her entire cleft was stretched and filled, a small clitoris pressed to the crown. A monster was poised to penetrate her. Holding my slippery shaft tightly I pressed, eased off and pressed, each move making Ellie's pussy bulge and her clitoris kiss my cock.

Just when I was sure Ellie was too tense, or I was too big, or not slippery enough, just when I had second thoughts, Ellie's tiny entrance seemed to dilate slightly. Progress was made, not much but enough for me to shudder again. And, as if that very first dilation was the sign, my crown oozed into her tiny opening. Ellie's pussy was stretched wide, the thickness of my erection filling her groin. She was so tight, almost painful. A small nudge and I could no longer see the flared rim. Pressure eased, her entrance sealed tightly to my shaft.

It was then that I noticed my daughter's hands. They rested on her tummy and were curled into fists, as if she was in pain.

"Ellie, honey?" I whispered.

"It's okay, Dad. It only hurt a bit. It's better now," she answered, her hands relaxing.

Doubts now assailed me. How deep could I go? She was so, so tight. How would I know when it was too far or more than she was comfortable with? How much could a ten-year-old take without pain?

"Daddy?"

I glanced sharply at Ellie. Was she hurting?

Her arms reached for me. "Can you hold me?" she asked.

I melted. Yes, holding my little girl was what I wanted, too. Bending, my crown lodged inside her, I slid one hand under her back, the other under her bum. Carefully I brought Ellie up off the bed and against me. Her legs wrapped around my body. Her arms hugged my neck, her face falling to rest on my shoulder. It was perfect.

"This is nice," she whispered.

Ellie felt tremors in her thighs. She hugged Daddy, loving how he held her so gently and felt so big and reassuring. His hands and kisses had excited her. For the first time she'd felt an ache develop inside her, down deep. It was like an itch she couldn't reach. Hugging Dad, she inhaled his scent and concentrated on feeling him.

Her pussy felt stretched and full, the little bit of pain when he'd put it in now gone. But even though she felt full, Daddy's erection wasn't touching that ache. She tried a slight movement, tightening her legs, and trembled when a bit more of his erection slipped in, touching a new part inside. Lifting, she pressed carefully, sighing when he went a bit deeper, really stretching her, filling her even more. This felt good. He was deeper and closer to the ache she wanted rubbed.

Ellie tightened her legs again, pressing, Daddy going deeper. She sighed. Yes, this felt very, very good. Daddy was so big.

I was doing nothing, completely wrapped up in the incredible sensation of Ellie working herself onto my erection. It was exquisite. Her tight opening slipping down my shaft slightly, the crown squeezed inside her, her vagina hot and tight.

Holding Ellie, one arm wrapped around her slender back, the other propping her little bum up, I let myself drown in the sensations bombarding me. Each small movement she made forced my straining erection deeper. It was amazing.

Then, when only an inch or so remained unsheathed, the tip of my cock nudged to her end.

"Yes, Daddy. Right there," she sighed.

My God she was tight. Velvet heat clasped my erection. Her exploratory clenches massaged my cock and made me throb in response. Realizing I'd closed my eyes to concentrate on the sensation of penetrating Ellie, I opened them, planning on kissing her.

Our reflection in the dressing mirror on the wall distracted me. The image was so erotic it made my cock swell and ache, dangerously close to cumming. It was a shocking image. It gave a completely different perspective to how I was holding my little girl, her head resting on my shoulder. The image looked so loving, until the rest of the reflection was studied. Somehow the two in the mirror were more impersonal to me, giving me a sense of being a voyeur observing something illicit and deeply forbidden. The naked man holding a naked little girl in his arms was so much bigger than her, she much too small against him, a child, slender, immature. He was hugging her naked body lovingly, cupping a small bottom, her legs wrapped around him, arms hugging. Yet below, the image was shocking. Below, a thick erection penetrated the child's small body. It was outrageous when viewed from that angle, the thickness of his cock and smallness of her bottom emphasizing size differences. And it was intensely, thrillingly erotic.

I had to look away. The reflection was too powerfully arousing. It was making my body tense-up like it would just before I'd cum. Instead, I lifted Ellie's sexy little bum slightly and let it down. Ellie sighed. I did it again. She sighed again. The movement did no more than caress my crown, but man it was exciting.

Ellie's arms tightened around my neck. "This feels good, Daddy," she whispered.

"It feels wonderful, honey."

Seeking more stimulation, Ellie started moving, her small buttocks flexing in my hand. I helped. Lifting and lowering her, my little lover's tight pussy massaged my erection exquisitely, the tip knocking into her end on every slow down stroke, softly but firmly, exquisitely pleasurable. Strokes lengthened but remained slow. Amazingly, Ellie's little vagina slid lower and lower on my shaft. Before I knew it I was completely buried in my ten-year-old little girl, my aching erection surrounded by her tight, moist vagina, her pussy pressed to my groin.

A deep, deep shudder passed through me, my cock flexing, feeling thicker and harder than ever. Every flex made Ellie's pussy feel tighter, succulent, warm, heavenly. The almost agonizingly slow pace only added to my arousal. I drowned in sensations: Ellie so young and small in my arms; the tight velvet caress of her pussy; sweet little buttocks flexing, relaxing, flexing; soft, warm breath puffing against my neck; little arms hugging me tightly; the scent of my daughter intoxicating me.

Withdrawing from Ellie's pussy was an endless journey. I was so deep in her, fully buried, the withdrawal as agonizingly pleasing as penetrating her, her little vagina clinging to my shaft as if trying to prevent me leaving. Just as the entrance squeezed over my crown I reversed, letting her down gently, the return journey long and exquisite, her moist silken grip caressing me, the journey ending with a nudge against her deepest part.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the experience, my cock aching and rigid. Ellie's pussy made me feel bigger and thicker than ever. But far too soon need swelled up to take control; need to achieve nirvana, need to cum, need to fill my little girl. Lifting and lowering her faster, everything slippery, her snug little vagina massaging, my orgasm stirred.

Concentrating to stave it off, I whispered, "I can't hold on much longer, sweetheart," my heart pounding.

We fucked each other, long strokes, full strokes, lifting her, lowering her, her bum flexing, legs gripping. I was very, very close, erection swelling.

I whispered to her, "Cum. honey. Cum for me."

It was as if I'd flicked a switch. Ellie gasped. Her legs tightened around my waist. Her arms gripped my neck. She tensed up, her pussy squeezing my cock painfully.

"Daddy!" she cried out, her small body shaking.

I came. I came hard, cock swelling, semen erupting deep inside her. Bliss crashed down on me, Ellie gasping and climaxing. My cock swelled again. I pulled my little girl down and buried my erection deep, deep. A powerful surge of cum erupted painfully, hot, thick semen exploding into her, stars bursting behind closed eyes.

Panting, I held my child and fucked her with shorter and shorter strokes, cum spurting into her tight pussy. Everything became slippery. Ellie moaned and humped me, her little ass flexing. I came hard, ecstasy making me dizzy, heart racing. I pulsed and came inside my little girl until I was drained, my orgasm fading, heart racing, sweat cooling. Peace slowly emerged from the tumult. Muscles melted. I hugged my limp ten-year-old gently, tightly but lovingly.

It took a couple of minutes for me to regain enough strength to move. Ellie stirred.

"I think I like it this way the best, Daddy," Ellie whispered into my ear, arms hugging me tight, legs limp around me.

"Me too, sweetheart," I whispered.

Maneuvering carefully we lay down, pulling the covers up as we moved. Ellie nestled her face into my chest. Peace descended with Ellie snuggled close, one leg over my thigh, the other stretched straight out, my still-engorged penis snuggly buried in her pussy, and my hand holding the sweetest little bottom. Turning the television on, I tuned it to the Tonight Show, not yet ready to sleep. I had too many things on my mind.

The television cast a flickering blue light in the room. I'd never get to sleep, I thought. The experience of loving my daughter was too fresh and too powerful for me to relax completely. I listened to my daughter breathing softly in sleep. She slept quietly, completely relaxed. Her scent filled me, the aroma of sweetness and sunshine. I thought of Mary and, for the first time felt no deep stabbing pain of loss. I felt neither guilt nor shame, unwelcome companions that had been with me for so long. I felt good. With Ellie warming me I felt at peace. I'd found a state of grace, a gift from Mary and Ellie.