First post on this site, I wanted it to be a good one. I have several more chapters of this story ready to go, and depending on how well this one is received, I'll post what else I have so far. It's a little slow to get started, but speeds up rather quickly. Disclaimer: THIS IS ABOUT A 10 YEAR OLD GIRL. You have been warned. No comments/PMs about how sick I am for writing something like this, please.
The pots and pans clanged about as I took out what I needed to make breakfast for the day. While I looked in the fridge for the bacon, eggs and such, I heard the patter of little feet from behind me. Without looking, I called to my daughter, “good morning, sweetness.”
Following a soft non-sequiter that told me she was stretching, I hear from behind me, “mmm… ‘morning, Daddy.” As I turned around, unprepared food in hand, she plopped her round little butt onto a stool at the island range. I laid everything out and got right to work when she asked, “whatchamakin’?” That cute little voice rang gentle in my ears, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I looked up at her, those beautiful baby blue eyes meeting mine as I replied, “your favorite, Kimmy – Smiley Toast Sandwiches.” Her eyes lit up at those words and she slammed her hands on the countertop, practically leaping from her chair as she surveyed the ingredients. Bread, butter, bacon, eggs, milk, lettuce, cheese, tomato; yep, it was all there. What I was really making us was basically a BLT with eggs and cheese thrown in. But some years before, the first time I’d made it, she asked me what is was, and I’d coined the name. The main reason, of course, is that whenever I made her one, she’d always smile her sweet little smile.
She giggled lightly, once again plopping back into her seat, swaying her feet back and forth and her head side to side. I chuckled inwardly as I watched her pigtails sway for a moment. She always loved her hair like that, I was never sure why. I got started frying the eggs, beginning to whistle while I worked. I glanced up to Kim to find her simply amusing herself by watching me and humming along with my whistling. Raising an eyebrow, I queried, “what’s got you so chipper today?”
With not a moment’s pause, she answered, “I’m off school today!” Her face lit up with the news, as though it was the best thing to happen to her in a long time.
“What?” I said, dropping the cup full of eggs I had begun to whisk back onto the counter. Meeting her playful gaze, trying not to smile as she swayed like a toddler with a secret, I asked, “why not?” Without a word, but with a big toothy grin, she pointed to our sliding glass door that lead out to the patio. The blinds were shut on the door, so, moving over to it, I opened them to take a look and sure enough, it was snowing rather heavily. “Huh… well look at that,” I murmured.
Sidling up to me, Kim poked my butt, asking in a small voice, “you didn’t know?” Looking down at my little 10 year old, almost flabbergasted, I answered simply by shaking my head. Looking back out on the field behind our house, I was amazed at how much snow there was. It had to have been 3 feet at least. I was more amazed about the fact that I didn’t know it was supposed to snow. Thinking on it, I remembered I had that day off anyway, so I didn’t bother to check the weather report the night before. Shrugging with a grin and looking down at Kim, I reached down and picked her up – all 60 pounds of her – and walked my giggling daughter back to her seat. “Well I guess you are off school then, huh? Hooray for long weekends.” To which she repeated, “hooray!”
It was a Friday, one of my usual days off, and from the looks of it outside; I wasn’t the only one in for a 3-day weekend or more. Being that we lived in Colorado, snow was far from a freak occurrence. But it didn’t usually start snowing in the middle of September, especially not as much as it was now. I went back to making breakfast with a sigh of both relief and contentment. It was always nice to have an unexpected day in with my beautiful little girl. She went back to swaying in her swivel stool, her light blonde hair softly rapping against her head and face.
Kimberly is a rambunctious little 10 year old girl, soon to be 11, in the middle of her 4th grade year. She’s a straight-A student since kindergarten and has the cutest little budding body. I never looked at her as anything but my daughter, but she was not shaped like most girls. A few months before, she had begun to bud, and just last week, she’d gotten her first period. Without her mother around, she and I have bonded over her entrance into puberty; what with my frustrations over being completely helpless when it came to ‘girlie things’ and her patience and understanding with me as her father and her friend.
Mid-way through slicing the tomatoes, I looked up at her and she was still just watching me quietly, having stopped humming sometime ago. Those stark blue eyes caught me again, my Aryan little girl smiling back at me like I was doing the most fascinating thing in the world and she wanted me to continue. I couldn’t help but notice that her little nipples were making her shirt stand out a little and I thought to ask, “no bra this morning?” Smirking, I went back to my slicing.
Looking down, she giggled, turning slightly redder as she said, “nope, didn’t think I’d need one. Not going anywhere.” Her simple and honest answer made me shrug and nod in agreement. She never seemed to have a problem with her body and the changes it was going through. When her chest started to blossom and her nipples grew more tender, she didn’t complain over needing to start wearing bras. She, in fact, simply asked me thoughtfully one day what color bra I think she’d look cute in; we got her first of many bras since on that same day. Even when she’d gotten her period, she knew just what to do - how to handle the tampons/pads and even asked for a whole new set of underwear for when she got her flow.
I suppose her knowledge in such things came from the internet, as I know her school didn’t offer such education for students her age. I trusted her implicitly; so much so that I’d bought a computer just for her on her 9th birthday. She’d been a good girl and I felt it fitting. I put no parental controls on it, preferring instead to trust her not to either get a nasty virus on it, or go anywhere inappropriate for a girl her age. I, of course, had anti-virus software on it, and every so often would have her check the system. Thus far, she’s not seemed to have disappointed my trust in her in any way.
I was done with the eggs and the vegetables by this point and the bacon was almost the kind of crispy we both like. Taking a dramatic whiff of air, she sighed out “smells good, Daddy.” I love it when she calls me that. When she grows older I’m going to insist she continue to address me thus. Something about the way her cute voice utters that word almost always sends a good vibe through me. Grabbing two plates, I began to build our thoroughly unhealthy sandwiches, and it was at this point, she finally dropped off her stool. She looked into the fridge for something and, not finding it, she closed the door and looked around the kitchen thoughtfully. Uttering an “ah!” she grabbed the milk off the counter and went to one of the cabinets for some glasses.
Chuckling slightly, I told her “you could have just asked for some, you know?”
With that almost constant smile in her voice, she said, “oh I know, Daddy. I just thought it was in the fridge is all.” She poured us both a tall glass and went back to her stool, this time watching me intently in between small sips. I shook my head smiling as I crowned our breakfast with the much exonerated bacon, cleaned up a bit with a paper towel and served my little princess her meal. “Mm-mmm! This looks yummy, Daddy!” I took a stool next to her and we ate together on the countertop, as we had so many times before. The table, that sat behind us, surrounded by four chairs, quite often went unused as anything other than somewhere to put the mail.
Looking at her, I couldn’t help but think of her mother, and how much alike they looked. Remembering the day she’d died of lymphoma made me think on how devastated Kim had been when she passed. Still so young, she didn’t understand at first that Mommy wasn’t going to wake up. And when I explained it to her, in the gentlest way I could think of, she had to be torn from her mother’s body as the nurses were taking her to the morgue. She cried for the rest of that day and I cried with her. We’d both lost the most important woman in the world to us.
I shook my head of such thoughts and took my first bite, all while she happily munched away. You’d never know looking at her now that only five years ago, a terrible affliction stole her mother away. She made me swear that day that I would never look for another mommy. She grabbed my face, both of our cheeks shiny with tears and whimpered, “she was my mommy. I don’t want another one, ok?” I never actually answered her, only brought her into my arms and held her close. I never took that to mean that I’d said no, I simply never sought love again; or, at least, not in a physical sense. I sought everyday for the love and approval of my sweet little blonde angel. The maturity of her request was staggering when I gave it later thought. To think that she not only understood so quickly that her mother had passed, but that society allows for the possibility of me marrying again and thus provide her another mommy… It was truly amazing when it first occurred to me.
As if I’d suddenly burst into flames, Kim’s eyes went wide, she stopped chewing and she looked up at me wide-eyed. I looked down at her with an arched brow and muttered with a full mouth, “what’s wrong, baby?”
Also, with a full mouth, she replied, “what’s wrong with YOU, Daddy?” I wasn’t sure what she meant, so I simply said nothing and shrugged. She reached out her small index finger and touched it to my cheek just below my eye. “But why are you crying?” I wiped my hand into my eye and sure enough, I’d started tearing. Even after five years, thoughts of my wife’s passing can still seemingly affect me.
Sighing, I slumped for a moment, taking her small hand into mine and caressing it gently. “I was just thinking about Mommy is all.” All at once her face drops, as does her sandwich from her hand, flopping apart back onto her plate as she slipped off of her stool and came into my lap. Appreciating the gesture, I adjusted slightly to accommodate her small body, one hand under her butt, forearm cradled up her back, the other hand still in hers, which she pulled to her chest.
Leaning into me, she begins to whisper, “I miss her sometimes too, Daddy.” She leaned her head into my shoulder, holding my hand to her budding bosom as if her life depended on keeping me close. For a long time, we just sat there together, as if giving Carol an impromptu moment of silence so long after her death. Sniffling, Kim leaned away and looked up at me, her eyes wet with forming tears. Smiling up at me for a long moment, gazing into my eyes as if attempting to soothe my very soul, she whispers, “I love you, Daddy.”
Sighing, I smile sweetly back into my little girl’s intense eyes and reply, “I love you too, angel. Now c’mon-“ I hoisted her off my lap, her small feet making barely a sound against the linoleum floor. “Let’s finish eating.” She exhaled sharply; looking down for a moment, and then back up at me with her cute little smile, she nodded in agreement.
As she climbed back into her stool, we resumed our meal, finishing in relative silence. My recollection of Carol placed a somber mood on the morning, and I didn’t like it. As we finished up, I tried to think of a way to lighten the moment, but came up with nothing. I cleaned up our dishes and, without a word, Kim came over to help me put the food away. She was always so helpful around the house. I’d come home from work some days and the whole place would be spotless. I asked her once when she was eight why she seems to like to clean so much. Her simple response was that she never saw me cleaning and someone had to do it. I couldn’t argue with her, so I decided that, if she wanted to be the house maid, I’d let her be – she seemed to enjoy it.
Lost in thoughts of nothing in particular as I was putting the dishes in the dishwasher, Kim poked my side; I almost jumped clear out of my skin. My reaction startled her into screeching, “what’s wrong?!”
Shaking my head quickly, I smiled down at her, speaking as calmly as I could, given my start. “Nothing, baby. I was just thinking.”
“Thinking pretty hard about something,” she said slyly as she poked me again. She sidled off into the living room, calling back, “whatchathinkin’ ‘bout?” I suppose she expected me to follow her. Looking around the kitchen to check that everything was cleaned up or put away, I went to join her in front of the 60” in the living room, which she had turned to the weather report.
With a smirk in my voice and with a lack of anything else better to say, I put my hand on her head, grabbing her pigtails and lifting them vertically as I said, “just thinking about how cute you are, sweetie.” She giggled at my messing and playfully tried to bat my hands from her head. We’d play with each other like this all the time; after all, all we had was each other. When the giggling fit was over, I let go of her hair and joined her on our leather couch. A lot of my friends accused me of being rich and would wonder why I worked at all. I would say we’re comfortable enough to have the things we want, but not too much.
After Carol’s death, my lawyer suggested I sue the hospital for malpractice, since their original diagnosis almost got her killed. I almost didn’t go through with it, but for the sake of the future of my Kimmy, I agreed to start the proceedings. We won and I got a more than reasonable amount, most of which went into a trust fund for Kim for when she got older. I never told her about it, and she wasn’t to know until she’s 18, that I had set aside 10 million dollars for her. But meanwhile, we live in a home large enough to accommodate five people with enough spending money to where I wouldn’t have to work for at least fifteen years. But I work anyway to keep me busy, and after Carol’s death, we didn’t want to stay in our old house – too many memories.
“Wow, it’s actually a blizzard,” I said aloud to myself as I watched the weather report. The gentleman in the three-piece suit on screen was saying it may last the entire weekend for our area and total close to five feet of accumulation. I looked down at my little girl when I heard this and she met my gaze with a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, you’re gonna be out of school for a while, huh?” As I’d mentioned, we lived in Colorado, but we were in a more rural corner of the state which still got little attention when a big storm rolled through.
She replied with an emphatic nod and a childish “uh huh!” I could only giggle at her. She was truly my little girl in every sense of the word. She was officially a ‘tween’, already blossoming into a full-fledged woman, but still just my little girl. As I looked down at her, I couldn’t help but smile as she bobbed her head from side to side in happiness as she continued to watch what I knew, for her, was a boring weather report. My staring caught her glance and she looked up at me, puzzled for a moment, but then playfully returned my smile with closed eyes.
I flipped through the channels to find something a little more entertaining than a news report, and while I was surfing, Kimmy dropped from the couch and moved over to climb into my lap. She moved quickly, smoothly, and without a word, as if it was something I was expecting. I stopped my clicking to look down at her, to which she met my gaze and said “what?” I only shook my head with a smirk and resumed my search. The last time she’d sat in my lap like this had to have been three or four years prior, but I thought nothing of it; if she wanted to sit in her daddy’s lap, I wasn’t going to stop her.
Still unsuccessful in finding anything good – flipping past infomercials, movies halfway over and more news – I felt Kimmy wriggle in my lap. I guess she was looking for a more comfortable position, but the movement against my groin caused an interesting reaction; my cock began to twitch. I knew her actions were innocent, and I wasn’t thinking anything perverse about what she was doing, but I couldn’t stop my body from reacting in such a way. As she moved her little rump across my pelvis, it did, I will admit, feel outstanding. These sensations, however, should not be the kind caused by my baby daughter. When she finally settled in, I sighed in relief and she looked back at me and smiled.
“Comfy?” I asked her, meeting her eyes.
“Uh huh!” came her reply. No further movement ensued after her enthused response, facing back to the set on the wall, which I’d stopped on a movie channel. “Oh! Despicable Me!” she cried out. I looked up and sure enough, about the middle part of what was one of her favorite movies (for now at least) was on. Her exclamation came with a bounce in my lap, moving her soft little ass against the thin fabric of my pajama pants, making me involuntarily twitch again. I groaned and grabbed her hips, pulling her against my groin with some force, aiming to keep her from moving anymore. She seemed to get the idea and stopped moving, watching the screen intently.
I quietly cursed to myself as I tried to calm myself down. I hadn’t gotten hard yet, thankfully, but with as playful as Kimmy was being, it was difficult to control myself. I don’t know why, but when she acts like a little girl – playing around, with a high-pitched voice, all smiles – she has an air of sexuality to her. It was something I’d been struggling with for years. She had always been comfortable with her body, and even more comfortable with me seeing her body. There had been several incidences in which she walked into my room after a shower without being wrapped in a towel, naked as the day she was born. More recently, this was becoming somewhat of an issue for my sanity, as it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to not see her in a sexual light. But to this point, I was proud to say I’d not, at least, had a wet dream with my little Kimmy taking center stage.
I groaned again, softly patting her hair, after finally having calmed down. She sighed at my touch as she continued to watch and leaned forward a bit, shifting her weight backward into my lap. Her feet were on the floor and her ass was pressed into me; from the outside, someone might think she was riding me reverse-cowgirl on the couch. When I thought about what it might be like if Kimmy were really trying to fuck me like that, my cock twitched again, along the contour of her tiny lower curves. My thoughts began to run away with themselves and I couldn’t shake images of the two of us in my bed, both naked, her screams and moans of pleasure ringing through my ears as I penetrated her sweet, tight little pussy over and over again…
I knew now that I had a full hard-on, straining against not only my pants, but Kimmy’s ass through her shorts.“Daddy?” I heard softly from somewhere far away. I blinked back to reality to see my sweet little ten year old daughter staring at me over her shoulder, body still in the same position it had been, with a deeply concerned look on her face.
“Wh-Wh-“ I cleared my throat, dislodging the frog from it and the elephant in my head. “What, baby?” I offered a weak smile that she didn’t seem to be buying.
“Is something wrong?” She shifted slightly, rubbing her firm ass against me so gently I almost came right then.
I winced and grabbed her hips again, giving her the ‘stop moving’ motion and she ceased wriggling. “No, baby, I’m fine.” I knew my Kimmy wasn’t an idiot, or that naïve; she knew what it meant when I was hard, but something in her reaction told me she might be aware that she was the cause. As I looked into her mystifying blue eyes, I could come up with no better than ”I was just thinking about something else.”
She smiled faintly, though whether it was reassuringly or out of placation, I couldn’t be sure. She followed her smile with a frown and an honest question, “are you sure, daddy?” Hearing her say it in that sugary manner made my cock flinch again and I’m 100% sure she felt it. She didn’t seem to react, but the way she remained positioned in my lap, there’s no way she didn’t feel my cock press deeper against her. She began to reach for it, sliding her hand down along her thigh and toward her ass. “What’s this?” she cooed, meaning, of course, my cock. Now she was just fucking with me.
With another flinch in my voice, I replied, as sweetly as I could in the situation, “I’m sure, sweetie. I’m ok.” I took her hand before it could reach my hardness and caressed it with a forced smile. As I’d said, I know she was aware of what caused me to be hard, and I was certain she knew that I HAD a penis, as she’d seen it several times. We were very close and comfortable with each other’s bodies. I’m sure that, if I could refrain from wanting to take my own daughter in ways no father should, we could both walk around the house naked all the time and it would be completely natural. Though, to my knowledge, she’d ever only seen me with my penis soft, so with my cock now pressed up against her in the state that it’s in, I suppose her thinking something was wrong was not too unfathomable. Or, at least, the impure thoughts causing my erection were of Carol and not of her, causing me to be in some way upset.
She gave me that knowing look, like she didn’t believe me, but she smirked slightly, shrugged, and turned back around and continued watching the movie. I let go of her hips and she seemed to loosen up. By now, my cock was softening and I felt more in control of my baser urges, for the moment anyway. I settled into the couch and watched the movie with her, trying to let the brief sexual tension between us pass and return to the setting of a simple father and daughter in their living room.
What was left of Despicable Me passed without further incident and with no words between her and I, save for a few laughs from her at the movie itself. My cock behaved itself, as I had no further ‘evil thoughts’. When the movie’s credits were rolling, I looked to Kimmy, realizing that at some point, I’d unfurled her pigtails and began stroking her hair softly. She didn’t tell me to stop, and I honestly don’t even remember starting to do it, so I guess I just kept on running my fingers through her hair. It was a favorite pastime of mine, as it were; her hair was so long, thin and silky that it was a joy for me to stroke, and she seemed to like it too.
“So what now, dear?” I asked her, turning to present me with a smiling face. She shrugged her shoulders, her features becoming thoughtful as she settled into my arms, ample rump still very much in my lap.
“Well, let’s see: we’re snowed in so we can’t go anywhere, we already ate, and it’s about ten-thirty already… Hmm…” Her nose wrinkled in a cute little way as she fell deep in as much thought as a girl her age can. “Well, we can see what else is on or we can play some games.”
“Oh? What games did you have in mind, the Playstation or the Wii?” She giggled slightly, the word Wii always comical to her.
“We could play the Wii, or I was thinking we could play our own game.”
She seemed to have a hidden meaning in her words, but I queried “like what, Risk or Monopoly?”
“No, not a board game, silly.”Her gaze went to the floor in that shy little way girls do when they’re trying to hide something. This made my brow rise slightly and she looked back up at me quickly.
My reaction seemed to scare her, making her drop off my lap on the couch beside me. I looked down at her obviously blushing face and queried with a simple “oh?” She looked up at me; her cheeks were more flush than I’d seen them in a long time. “What game did you have in mind, sweetie?” I reached out to her slowly, aiming for her head to stroke it as I was before. She leaned into my touch with closed eyes and a smile, as if I were petting a cat. Sure enough, she began to moan softly, much like she was purring.
After a moment, she realized herself and stopped all at once, leaning back and looking up at me. “Stop distracting me,” she exclaimed. “I meant a game like…” She muttered something after that, under her breath and to the side that I missed entirely.
“What was that dear?” Her sudden shyness was too cute not to play along.
A little louder than before, she repeated “I meant a game like Truth or Dare.” Her cheeks instantly flushed a bright red and she looked away again. Given her reaction to the mere name of the game, my mind began racing over the connotations she might have in her head about it.
‘How does she know about this game?’ ‘Why is she so shy about it?’ ‘Why is she thinking of playing it with ME?’ All of these questions flying through my head, but not one came out of my mouth. Instead, I uttered the words, “well, sweetie, I think that’s a game only adults should play.”
Instantly, she rejoined the conversation with fervor, all shyness gone. Looking me right in the eye she confessed, “but me Mika and Kayla play it all the time!” These were names of friends from her school, and upon nearly screaming her names, her cheeks went flush again, realizing what she’d said. “I mean…”
“You mean that you and your friends are sharing secrets and making each other do strange and disgusting things?” I let the word ‘disgusting’ take whatever meaning she wanted.
“Yeah!” she looked up again, and then her face went crooked. “Wait, what?” I almost chuckled at her reaction to herself. “No no, I mean that… Well, yes, we’ve played before, and sometimes Mika has some mean dares, but nothing gross or dangerous or anything. Besides, we use it to get to know each other better.” With a big proud smile she confessed, “I know both of their deepest darkest fears AND desires.”
“Desires? Aren’t you girls a little young for those?” My mind, still somewhere reminiscent of a gutter, thought she meant sexual desires.
“What? No… Mika really badly wants a pony and Kayla wants Josh to kiss her.” She looked at me like I was leprous. “What other kinds of desires are there?”
I smirked in a way I knew she truly hated. “I’ll tell you—“
“When you’re older,” she mockingly sing-song’d at me. “But c’mon, I really wanna play Truth or Dare with you.” She grabbed at my arm softly, leaning to it like a puppy begging for a treat.
“But why, sweetie? There’s little that we don’t know about each other.” In a purely playful spirit, I reached for her nipple and tweaked it softly. “I’ve even seen you naked, what’s more to know?”
She giggled furiously, swatting my hand away and laying back into the arm of the couch. In her fit, her legs spread open and I caught a glimpse of what I thought to be her bare mons. It was for but a moment, but I could swear my little girl wasn’t wearing panties under her ass-hugging shorts. When her fit was over, she leaned back in, grabbed both my nipples and twisted them a bit harder than I had hers.
I chuckled, feigning pain as I yelled, “ah! Aah! Uncle! I’m sorry!” I was merely playing along, and she knew it, but we had a good laugh for a short while.
She climbed back into my lap, arms around my neck. Kissing my cheek, she said softly, “no, silly. You’re my daddy, not my uncle.” I snickered at that, letting her lay her head on my chest. Cradled in my arms as she was, she reminded me of when she was an infant – how she literally needed me back then. But now she was a young budding woman who, given her pleading, was coming into her own opinions on life, and it was both unnerving and comforting. She was, it seemed, parenting herself along with me. “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to.” Ahh, reverse psychology. How is it that always works when the source is a child?
“Now I never said I didn’t want to play.” She perked up and looked at me. “I am curious though why you want to. I mean, if you play with your friends, I guess it’s ok. I trust those girls. But why do you want to play such a game with me?”
Looking back into my white T-shirt, she traced her finger idly across the fabric. “I don’t know, I just do.” She met my eyes again, asking softly, almost sounding like she would cry depending on my answer, “so can we?”
About a thousand and one scenarios flew through my head regarding how this could go horribly, horribly wrong. But finally I conceded with a heavy sigh and a nearly sarcastic “fine…” Her reaction came immediately, bouncing up and down on my crotch, clapping excitedly. “But!” I said loudly, breaking her celebration, “under one condition.” She eyed me silently with a tilted head, her hair falling from the side of her dome as if she were Rapunzel offering her golden locks to her gallant knight. “And I can’t believe I feel the need to make this stipulation but… nothing dirty, ok?”
Her small face contorted into what had to be the wickedest grin I’d ever seen on a woman, of her age or any other. Sheepishly, holding that nasty grin, she asked, “what do you mean, daddy?”
I smirked at her, “I think a girl your age knows exactly what I mean. Nothing involving anything naughty. Deal?” She nods impishly, in spite of the grin still on her lips. I sighed heavily, shook my head and clicked the TV off. She adjusted her legs so as to sit ‘indian style’ facing me on the couch. I watched her in all her childishness, and part of me wanted to catch a glimpse of her tender little pussy again. But my fatherly thoughts kicked in and I shook my head of the thought, not craning my neck to try and glean such a look. When she seemed ready, I looked her right in the eye and said, “okay then, silly, you first.”
In that small, girly voice I loved so much, she nearly exclaimed, “okay. Truth or dare?”
I had planned before even agreeing to this to do anything I could to avoid ‘dare’, at least for a while. I figured that there could be no truth she would want out of me that she didn’t already know – she and I kept no secrets. To that effect, after a slight pause, I replied “truth.”
Without missing a beat, she asks “why did you think I’d want to do dirty things?”
A good question really. I gave my answer some thought, as frankly I don’t know where that came from myself. “Well, I don’t know. Every time I’ve played Truth or Dare in my life, it was always more… R rated.” I knew Kimmy knew what I meant by that without the need for elaboration. The flush in her cheeks when I said it told me as much. “Ok, your turn, truth or dare?”
“Truth,” she answered cheerfully. She looked up at me with a hope in her eyes like I was about to ask her to marry her.
“Are you wearing panties?” I couldn’t believe the words as they left my mouth. Here I am asking my daughter if she’s being naughty when I told her that we weren’t to talk about anything naughty. What’s wrong with me? I thought.
Her eyebrow cocked, and seemed about to ask the same question on my mind. But she stopped, bit her lip, looked down and whispered a nearly inaudible, “no”. My brow furrowed at her response and I was inclined to ask a follow-up ‘why?’, but it wasn’t my turn. As I waited through the long silence for her to ask the invariable question of the game, she instead offered “I… couldn’t find any clean ones when I got dressed.” Her eyes were staring at her feet, as though they held the answer to a question she hadn’t asked.
This gave my mind a myriad of images to sift through. She sleeps naked? Since when? And more than that, I did the laundry last night, she should have plenty of clean panties. Why would she lie like that? Wait, lie… “Sweetie, that’s a lie. I did the laundry last night; your drawer should be full. This is supposed to be a game of truth. If you’re going to tell me why you’re not wearing any, tell the truth.” I realized my fatherly instincts to continue to coach her through life knowing right from wrong, especially lying, was pushing her into confessing to her own father why she was doing something that, for a ten year old girl, was very wrong.
Her face turned several shades of red and she began to gnaw on her lip as her eyes darted around the room. She was doing everything to avoid the question short of running away; she never once looked at me in the eye, only at my chest and lower body. Finally, with a quivering voice, she said softly, “I like the feel of it.”
It seemed an acceptable enough answer, but my curiosity piqued. Forgetting the rules of the game that started this conversation, I was compelled to ask, “the feel of what?”
Like a toddler in a tantrum she screams “no!” making me jump. “It’s my turn.” With a look of pure contempt, she meets my gaze. “Truth or Dare?”
“How did you know I wasn’t wearing panties?” Never once in her contemplation or consternation over my discovery had she moved. But upon asking her question, she seemed to realize that it was only the thin cotton fabric of her shorts that was hiding her admittedly bare pussy from my eyes. Not that I was looking, but she seemed to think I wanted to, as she shifted her feet to rest beneath her, legs closed and faced away from me.
“When I was tickling you earlier, I caught a glimpse of your kitty.” This was a name I established with her about a year prior. She and I had the ‘sex talk’ prompted by her curiosity. I used the medical terms, of course; words like ‘penis’ and ‘vagina’, ‘intercourse’ and ‘procreation’. But all those words were too cumbersome for her young mind and mouth. So ‘vagina’ became ‘kitty’, ‘penis’ (at her request, having heard it in a movie) became ‘dick’, ‘intercourse’ became ‘sex’ (naturally) and ‘procreation’ became the most endearing ‘making love’.
The blood in her cheeks never left, but at hearing this confession of mine, were it at all possible, her face became redder. She resumed gnawing on her lip and I began to worry she may draw blood from it soon. “My turn,” she moped at me.
“Truth or dare?” I asked unceremoniously.
She responded with such mundane, I was beginning to think I might be ruining the plan she had for this little game. “Truth.”
“Why did you really want to play this game, Kimmy?” I didn’t want to waste anymore time; if she really did have a plan as to the game, I was going to use the rules against her.
As if I indeed had sucked all the fun out of it, she answers matter-of-factly. “I wanted to have a little fun with my daddy.” She looked me square in the eye as she added, “I didn’t know my manner of dress would be a topic of conversation.” I suppose she had me there; but then again, she had to know that at some point, I would have noticed and questioned her…
“Fair enough. Alright, your turn to ask me.” I shifted on the couch, dropping my arm on the back of it and facing her a little more.
“Truth or dare?” Again, she was monotone and lifeless in her question.
To spice things up a bit, I surprised her with a “dare.”
She perked up like a dog being shown a treat. “Really? Umm…” Clearly, she was not ready for my answer. “Okay. I dare you to umm…” She looked around the room a bit, and I could swear her cheeks began to flush again. I felt as though she may soon faint from all the blood rushing to her head. Looking back at me, she repeated, “I dare you to kiss me like a woman.” I was instantly taken aback. The way she structured that sentence, she’d clearly given it some thought. Moreover, she just asked me, essentially, to make out with her.
“Why would you ask your father to do such a thing?” Again, she took to gnawing at her lip.
“I don’t know. All the girls at school talk about how great some of the boys are at kissing. I don’t have a boyfriend, and I really wanna know what it’s like.” Teeth still at her lip, she looks up at me to add a rather poignant note. “Who better to show me than my daddy?”
I could not find fault in her logic. Once again, she proves that she is mature beyond her years. I felt all manner of wrong for what I was even considering agreeing to; she was my daughter but more than that a 10 year old girl. And she’s asking me to kiss her like I would a woman twice her age if not more. Still, she dared me to, and that’s the rule of the game – I had to do it; and I wasn’t about to upset her further at the offset of what was to be a long weekend together.
Relenting to her request, I opened my arms to her and sighed, “c’mere, baby.” With a smile and a cute little giggle, she sprang from the couch and plopped into my lap. She fell into me with such force, however, that any horniness I was feeling over what I was about to do was shattered by her youthful lack of much of an ass. As I looked down into her eyes, now so close to mine, I gazed over her full, pouty lips in wonder, as if mentally justifying why I would kiss them. As if noticing my predicament, she closed her eyes and pursed her lips tight, leaning towards me. With a chuckle, I gently pushed against her shoulder to move her away. “No, silly. If you want me to kiss you like a real woman, let me show you how it’s done.”
With a gleam in her beautiful sapphire eyes, she exclaims, “okay!” She relaxed her body, leading me to believe she wanted me to guide her every move – which is what I intended to do. I leaned in slightly and took her chin in my hand, caressing her cheek gently as I stayed locked inside her captivating eyes. I leaned in closer, my hand still framing her face. As our lips touched, ever so gently, she didn’t move a muscle. I continued to softly kiss her for several seconds before she reciprocated, finally understanding what I was doing and that my actions were meant to be responded to in kind. She moaned softly as, to my great surprise (and ultimately, relief), she was the one who used her tongue first. I was reluctant to do so, as I didn’t want to scare her. But as her tongue licked lightly across my lips, she moved her hand to my face as well.
For several minutes, we made out, each of us moaning softly every now and then. She was getting into it a little more than I was expecting, her little bony ass gently grinding into me after a while. I couldn’t believe I was kissing her in the first place, so I relented to the passion of the moment. Somewhere in the back of my mind was the thought, is she kissing me like this because I’m her father, or just because I’m an adult? Her pelvic caress was causing my own groin to react and I realized my pants were growing, which in turn caused her to begin to grind harder. I stopped our kiss slowly, pulling away to look at her.
We both closed our eyes long ago and as we opened them together, I saw the pure lust in my little girl’s eyes. It was a look, I realized, I was returning, but hopefully she was too young to recognize it. Tenderly, I massaged her cheek once more as I asked “is that what you wanted?”
Her initial response was a long moan as she pressed her pelvis into my deflating hard-on, causing it to twitch again. I tried to stop her, but she stopped on her own as she said, “it was, Daddy. It really was.” Her words were so sensual and tender, my heart skipped several beats and my mind was clouded with a million and one thoughts – not least of which is my little girl in love with me? Before I could fixate on that thought, she slowly climbed off my lap. I was still in such a haze from our pairing that I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw her hand go to her shorts for a moment and rub her crotch.
As she settled in, she took a deep breath, exhaling with an incredibly tantalizing moan, as if clearing her mind before asking, “Truth or Dare, Daddy?”
Forcing my thoughts aside, many and varied as they were, I straightened up and answered, “It’s my turn, silly. That was my dare.” Flushing slightly with that clever grin that told me she was hoping I wouldn’t catch that, she adjusted slightly on the couch as if she couldn’t get comfortable. I looked up thoughtfully and let out an “hmm…” I wanted her to think I was planning for either answer she could give me, but I knew already what I would say. “Truth or Dare?” I finally asked.
Neither of us seemed interested in discussing what just happened, and she seemed to still be recovering from it. But after another soft moan, she answers, “truth”. I knew she was going to say that. She doesn’t want me to dare her to kiss me again or to take it any further – at least not yet. We’d spent the last ten years of our lives together, every single day, most especially in the last five. I could think about 3 moves ahead of her at this point and I was going to use this to get to the root of my little girl’s feelings and whether or not I should be disturbed by them.
With no hesitation, I asked her quickly, “why were you grinding your kitty on my dick?” I felt that using her own language for both organs was the best way not to scare her off too much, and based on her reaction, I seemed to be right.
She shifted slightly again, her legs unfolding from under her ass, falling back into a cross-legged position. This allowed me an unfettered look at what was undoubtedly a glistening, bare, delicious looking, and sweet young pussy. Whether she did this on purpose, or even noticed, was unclear as she answered slowly but clearly, “Because it felt really good, Daddy.” I nearly lost it. My little girl just admitted to me that grinding that little pussy staring back at me was being scratched just the right way by my own cock. Not only that, she admitted it in such a way that made it sound like the most natural thing in the world. I never lost my hard-on to this point and her revelation made it jump in my pants.
I cleared my throat nervously and shifted myself in my pants, which did not go unnoticed by Kimmy. She looked on in interest as I struggled to make my cock comfortable and I thought to ask a follow-up question, but the moment had passed. “Truth or Dare?” I heard from across me as she leaned in to get a better view of my straining pajama pants.
Part of me felt like the game should have stopped here. It was getting a little too tense for my taste and it didn’t seem like it would be turned in a different direction. Another part of me still wanted to know where all this was coming from – the idea for the game in the first place, the kiss, the dry-humping, all of it. And seemingly, this is the part of me that won out as I involuntarily muttered evenly “truth.”
For an almost imperceptible moment, she seemed disappointed in my answer, but she relented to asking something apparently already on her mind. “Did you like how it felt, Daddy?” Again, bound by the rules of the game, I had to answer honestly, but I still didn’t feel right being posed these types of questions from my progeny.
Before I could answer, however, she shifted again, leaning her back into the arm of the couch behind her and planting her feet on the cushion. This allowed her legs to be spread wide and the thin fabric of her shorts stretched hard against her pussy, making it very clear just how wet she was from the darker patch in them. I knew she’d moved into this position on purpose, and as I noticed and stared, she smiled at me in what had to be the most seductive grin I’ve ever seen in my life. Unable to look away from the poly-blend fabric blocking my view of what was likely the most perfect pussy I’d ever see, I muttered “of course it did, sweetheart.” I saw one of her hands come into view, slowly making its way toward the lower hem of her shorts. She seemed to either be about to move the obstruction and give me what my eyes were starving for, or begin rubbing herself, but with my adding “you can do it again if you want” for reasons I can’t explain, her hand stopped and she moved to climb into my lap again.
I had to think quickly. All at once, my brain and body were at war. I tried to stop her from getting back on top of me, saying things like “no” “wait” and other nonsense like “I didn’t mean it”. None of these things got any attention from the suddenly voracious little girl I once named Kimberly.
As she settled into position, wriggled her pelvis into me before beginning a slow, achingly erotic grind against me, she stared right into my eyes. Repeating her earlier question “did you like how it felt, Daddy?” immediately got my attention. But when she continued to repeat it in different manners, like “did you like how my kitty felt on your dick” or in the form of a statement “yeah, you liked how my kitty felt,” I about fucking lost it. Those captivating blue orbs, combined with the immediate response my own loins offered to her ministrations and her dirty pillow talk, silenced any thought in my head other than This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me in my life.
I couldn’t stop her, or I didn’t want to. At that point, I wasn’t sure which. Was I unwilling to stop my little girl from dry fucking me, or paralyzed by the situation – or the uncharacteristic language she was using – and simply unable? I didn’t know, and quickly, I stopped caring. Her rhythm was slowly picking up pace, and her gaze having never left mine, she started to moan softly to that rhythm, letting go her tawdry teasing. I felt my hands move all on their own to her hips, which she took as a sign to keep going. The more she grinded, the more of her juices I could feel rubbing against the fabric of my pants. Admittedly, I was wearing no underwear either, but it was far more common for me to do so than her.
My hardness was pressed so firmly against her that I thought for sure that one false move from her would send my prick straight up inside of her, clothing be damned. As if sensing my concern, one of her tiny hands moved down to her shorts, moving them aside so that her bare, bald pussy was now grinding against my pants, making them slicker and wetter by the second. I could feel how hot she was, and in her eyes I could see how badly she’d wanted this. As if I could peer into her very soul, somehow I knew that she had been dreaming of doing this, if not something just as intimate, with me for a very long time.
Taking a gamble that these were her true feelings, I reached down and tried almost frantically to unbutton the hole in the front of my pants. They were designed much like boxers; a single button separated you and a freed penis. My encumbered mind couldn’t find the dexterity to manipulate a simple button (mostly because Kimmy’s body was in the way). But she seemed to pick up on what I was trying to do and, releasing her own shorts and stopping her grinding for a moment, she quickly unbuttoned me, reached in and grabbed her prize and freed it, then got back into position all in one smooth motion.
Her humping resumed, only now, it was flesh on flesh. Her sopping wet, young, bare, hairless pussy was being pressed hard against my throbbing, circumcised, seven inch, little-girl-hungry cock – and we were both moaning loudly within seconds. My head fell back a moment as the new sensation took over me. I looked back up into her eyes and was met with tear stained, half-lidded sapphire irises. For a brief moment, that pang in my heart kicked in when I saw her tears, thinking I was somehow hurting her or that our actions were causing her some degree of sadness. But those thoughts were shattered, as not only did she not stop, but with a great amount of strain in her voice, she muttered the words, “I love you so much, Daddy.” It was almost as if she realized she was raping me but regretted that it had come to that instead of me doing this more willingly.
I answered in my most compassionate tone “I love you too, Kimmy” and I leaned in to do the only natural thing I could do from my position – I pressed my lips to hers and shoved my tongue in her mouth. This caused a squealing moan from her as she wrapped both arms around me, her pace increasing as our lips and tongues danced a terribly taboo dance with one another. Faster and faster her hips moved, demonstrating alarming stamina, and as she moved down, pressing into me hard with each thrust, she moaned into my mouth. It had been so long since I’d been with a woman, but I knew what all this meant; my little girl was about to come all over my willing cock.
Something inside me simply snapped and I realized that I could not allow this. I pushed her away gently, breaking our kiss, grabbed her under her ass and lifted her from my lap and stood up, our groins still pressed together. As I spun around, she kept her eyes locked on mine, trying to continue her humping, determined to bring herself off. I stopped her grinding with a firm grip on her ass, pressing her so hard against my own pelvis, she couldn’t move. With a sharp gasp as I practically slammed her back into the couch, she asked innocently “what’s wrong Daddy? Why’d you stop me?”
Leaning away, our sexes no longer touching, leaving a string of girlcum between us, I looked back sternly, “I know what you’re trying to do and I know what was about to happen to your little kitty.” Her pussy was still exposed and with this revelation, I reached down and placed my palm over it, causing her to moan out behind closed eyes. When she opened them again, I continued, “I simply can’t have that.” Upon saying this, I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and pulled them off of her so fast and so hard, her ass leapt from the couch and reconnected with an audible slap. I threw the fabric somewhere behind me, kneeled down in front of a suddenly scared little girl, grabbed both of her hips firmly and looked back into her eyes from between her spread legs. “If my little girl is going to use my body to cum, it’s going to be my tongue that gets used.”
I hadn’t realized then how incredibly intimidating I must have been in this state. My dear, sweet little girl was so small compared to me; which isn’t to say I was anything as big as the muscle-headed photoshopped monstrosity on those Power Thirst commercials, but I was pretty built. Kimmy knew that I was practiced in several martial arts, so I kept a fairly lithe body, and with me standing at 6’0” since before she was born, I suppose it’s no surprise she was quivering under me when I had basically told her that if she was going to rape me, I was going to choose how and with what part of my body.
Not minutes before all this, my mind had been racing with all manner of reasons why what we were doing was so wrong and needed to stop. But by this point, any inhibition went out the window when I’d finally lost control and needed my little girl to cum all over my face. I knelt in closer and took a deep breath, breathing in the gentle yet pungent scent of my little girl. It was a fragrance I’d realized I’d smelt many times before. I had never been able to figure out what it had been until now, as I never kept potpourri around the house, nor live flowers. Apparently, my darling Kimmy’s natural scent was that of jasmine and lavender. Either that or she liberally applied some manner of lotion to her pussy every day. Either way, the smell was intoxicating, and the more I sat there sniffing her drenched little lips, the more I knew I had to devour them.
I looked back up at a very embarrassed, almost scared little girl, with her hands at her mouth as if to try to hide her discomfort. Soothingly, I coddled her, “if you thought grinding Daddy’s dick felt good, you’re going to love this. Brace yourself, honey.” She didn’t move. As I leaned in closer, gently kissing her clit, which I now realized was ridiculously engorged, she sank into the sofa and gasped as if about to scream out. She fell quiet again though as I smacked my lips and got a taste of her for the first time. She tasted not unlike her mother – sweet, almost sickeningly sweet, with a touch of strawberry and honey. I don’t know how a pussy could taste so good, and as my tongue didn’t detect any hint of bitterness from what might have been lotion, I understood all at once that her flowery fragrance was all her own.
I moaned at the taste and faceplanted back into my daughters aching pussy, my tongue jutting out to split open her labia, my sharp nose pressing hard into her clit. I had never explained the act of cunnilingus to my daughter, but based on the moans I was hearing and the fact that, in spite of my hold her hips, she suddenly couldn’t sit still, she enjoyed it. I continued to try and bury my tongue into her sweet tasting hole, and the deeper I got, the harder her muscles would clench, and the louder she’d moan.
Her earlier pelvic ministrations had gotten her so close to orgasm, and our brief pause staved her off for a while. But going full-bore on her whole pussy as I was now, it wasn’t long before my work was rewarded. Suddenly, her small hands slammed into the back of my head, clutching at my hair and jamming my face even harder into her crotch. At the same time, her back arched and her teeth almost audibly clenched as I felt a rush of fluid collide with my teeth. All at once, I retracted my tongue, opened my mouth wider, and began to flex my throat, swallowing every drop of girlcum my daughter was giving me. I thought briefly to myself how much like her mother Kimmy really was; they were both squirters and I loved that about Carol too.
As her spine relaxed and she began to breathe more normally, I unlatched my lips from her groin and got to my feet to look down at her. With no bottoms on, breathing heavily, a light sheen of sweat over her whole body, legs spread, edged against the couch, looking up at me with a half-lidded expression of love, gratitude, and sexual appreciation, I realized that my little Kimmy was the sexiest woman alive. I gingerly went to sit down next to her, my cock twitching and pointing at her small nubile body from within my pajama pants. Slowly, she braced her arms against the cushion and lifted herself up into a proper sitting position. I grabbed her and pulled her into me for what had to be the most love-filled embrace we’d ever shared.
Softly, I heard her whisper into my chest, “best… game… ever.” I chuckled lightly and began stroking her blonde hair, now sticking to her neck and the back of her shirt.
I kissed her forehead as I agreed, “indeed it was.” Reaching up to clutch her face gently, I applied an appropriate pressure to cause her to look up at me. I offered simply, “it doesn’t have to be over though, if you don’t want it to be.” Her eyes lit up as she shifted against me, forcing me onto my back with my head hitting the arm of the couch hard. I closed my eyes briefly in pain before they flew open again to look at the eager expression on her face.
“Really? You wanna keep playing?” Her hands were pressed into my nipples almost painfully and she was once again mounting my lap, lower belly pressed into my cock, pinning it to me. She seemed oblivious to this fact, even though I was sure that after my having just eaten her, she was more sensitive than she’s likely to have ever been.
I chuckled again at her playfulness, and at the question she posed. “Well of course, dear. You didn’t want to just stop there, did you?”
“Oh no, Daddy. Let’s keep playing.” She pushed into me several times, causing us both to bounce on the couch. This, of course, also had the effect of making our sexes grind against one another again, eliciting a moan from her lips. To this, she blushed and slowly removed herself from my lap and sat down on the couch, making no effort to hide herself anymore, nor find her shorts. “Whose turn is it?”
“Mine,” I answered as I sat up. Looking down at my persistent hard-on, I smirked slightly. “Hmm… well, you’ve seen mine… heh, and I’ve eaten yours. Might as well take these off.” My eating comment caused her to giggle, apparently a term she was, in fact, familiar with. I came to my feet and took off my pants, discarding them as I had her shorts, making a mental note to find them both later. “So then,” I said as I sat back down, the sweat from my ass making the leather a tad uncomfortable, “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth,” she said with a smile, brushing strands of hair behind her ear, staring directly at my cock and not looking away. Just the answer I was hoping for.
“Were you planning on doing something like that this whole time?”
“Uh huh! I didn’t expect you to try and eat me, but I’ve wanted to be more intimate with you for a long time.” It was as if the simple act of making her cum was all it took to shed any amount of shyness she felt around me. Her candidness took me aback so much that I almost didn’t hear her cheerily ask, “Truth or Dare?”
Shaking my head, I thought for a moment. Any dare that she’d make me do would likely be a ramp up from eating her, or, at best, eating her again. Best stick to truth for now. “Truth.”
“Why DID you eat me, Daddy?” Oh God. Such a question was so raunchy from the lips of a 10 year old girl that I almost came right then.
I stammered for a moment, causing her to giggle sweetly…which wasn’t helping my composure. “I guess I couldn’t help myself. You mother always loved it when I did that and, to be honest, when I kept catching glimpses of your kitty under your shorts, it made my mouth water.” Again, she blushed, and at the mention of her mother, she smiled slightly. I was unsure if being compared to Carol in such a way had upset her, or made her proud.
“Well, maybe that was the idea, huh?” She tilted her head in that cute little way, causing my cock to very visibly jump. Kimmy noticed this and looked right at it, tilting her head the other way in a silent inquiry. As if testing a theory, she looked up at me and said in the most childish voice I’ve ever heard from her at this age “Daddy, do you think I’m cute?” My cock twitched again at hearing that voice coupled with that term of endearment, and she seemed to have the answer she was after. Moving in closer, crawling across the couch to place her small hand around my twitching cock, she cooed, “you’re such a naughty daddy, aren’t you?” As if on its own, her wrist began to move, pumping her hand slowly up and down my cock as she looked up at me. “Your dick reacts when I act like a little girl. You like little girls, don’t you?”
She had me. I’d always been a pedophile. I knew that about myself, and so did Carol. She’d never had a problem with it, as it was always just fantasy; I never acted on my urges. When we’d had Kimmy, she was worried I might do awful things to her from lack of control. I made her a promise that it would never happen, and as Kimmy grew up, it never did. I had evil thoughts about her constantly, but up until now, I never touched her in any way other than a loving father should. But today, my 10 year streak was broken and part of me felt glad that it was the little girl who initiated it. In no court anywhere in the country would that make a difference, but it did make me feel a little better about breaking my promise to Carol.
She kept slowly jerking my cock, an impish grin as she waited for my response. “I do like little girls,” I muttered. “God, I’ve wanted to do such awful things to you for years now.” At this point, we relinquished the game and just started being completely honest, to the point of being incriminating.
“Oh me too, Daddy. Ever since you told me about sex, I’ve wanted to make love to you. I’ve wanted to know what it must have been like for mommy when you were making me. What you made her feel for her to love you so much.” To hear her use the memory of my wife in such a way should have been upsetting, but it only made me harder for her hand as she stroked me faster and with a tighter grip. After a bit of a pause, the only noise between us being the gentle scraping of her bare hand on my cock, she asked me so innocently “Daddy… can I suck your dick?”
“Oh God,” I said out loud, almost blowing my load all over her right then. “Kimmy, how do you know about that?”
She shrugged, a look of pure lust on her face, “I don’t know why, Daddy, I just really want to do it. Please? Please can I suck it?”
I knew that she was aware of how much such questions were affecting me, especially in the childish tone she was using. She’d found my button and god damn it if she was going to stop pressing it. Between gasps from her wrist work, I answered “I didn’t ask permission… did I?”
Committed to the role of my little girl and, regardless of how much she knew she was in control, she insisted on pursuing my verbal agreement. “But you’re my Daddy. I don’t wanna do anything without you saying it’s ok…” In spite of these words, she leaned her face in toward my cock, let her tongue lick against the tip for the briefest of seconds before smiling up at me and repeating, “so please, can I suck your dick?”
I lost it. My balls tightened as I practically screamed out, “yes! Oh God, yes!” I had already started to cum as she gingerly placed her lips around the head of my cock. Just as her lips touched my tender flesh, the first string shot into the back of her throat, causing her to moan sharply. I thought she would let go but her grip remained firm and she began to suck on it hard, audibly swallowing as I continued to blast into her mouth. Five or six more contractions later, I was done, but she wasn’t. She continued to suck at the tip of my head, letting her mouth snake down a little further to take more of my length into her mouth. She had been rewarded before ever truly beginning, and I guess she just wanted to go through the motions to placate her own fixation.
After maybe a minute of making sure my cock was thoroughly empty, she came up for air, never letting go my member with her dainty fingers. “Mmm… that was good, Daddy.” Again, in the most girly tone she could muster, she added “tank you fo’ fiwwing my bewwy, Daddy. I was hungwy.” If my cock had begun to deflate, this simple statement shot it back to attention. She didn’t continue to stroke it, but the twitching she’d caused made her look at it, as if examining it in a lab. “I suppose it was only fair. I did that in your mouth, you should have done it in mine.” Something told me right then that since our talk the previous year, she’d learned a lot more about sex than she was letting on. There were no questions about what I had done just now, whether it was normal for her to have shot into my mouth with such force, nothing. Once again, mature beyond her years or surfing for such carnal knowledge online.
Reaching out for her hair, I stroked her head gently and cooed “any time your stomach is empty, Kimmy, Daddy would be happy to fill it for you. Like always.” Of course, prior to today, I’d always filled it with food, but given her words, I’m sure she caught my connotation.
Whether or not such a tender moment affected her, she continued with her analysis of what just transpired. “You taste really good, Daddy. Not too salty, not too sweet. You were really thick too…” She looked up at me with a look of pure indifference. “How long has it been since the last time you did that?”
The forwardness of her question caused a knee-jerk answer within seconds. “About a week or so, maybe.” I was powerless before this little girl now. The fact that I was her father remained deeply embedded in the back of my mind, constantly nagging at me over how wrong this was, how I shouldn’t be thinking this way about her, let alone talking to her this way. But, that’s where those thoughts stayed – in the back.
Returning her gaze to my prick, she began to stroke the base again softly. “Well that just won’t do.” Looking up at me again, she said in a very serious manner. “Daddy.” She paused for dramatic effect. “You’re not to cum any less than once a day from now on, ok?” What?! It was as if what just transpired unlocked the hidden sex fiend that laid dormant within my sweet little girl. But, given my sexual predisposition for her age group, I couldn’t argue with her, daughter or not.
Whether it was from genuine curiosity or a desire to encourage her to continue speaking in such a way, I inquired, “and how am I to ensure that happens, dear?”
In a matter of fact way that almost frightened me, she looked at me dead-pan and said, “using me, of course. My mouth, my kitty, my butt, my hands, whatever you want, Daddy.” My cock had such a reaction to her lurid words that with one of her pumps of my shaft, a large bead of precum leaked from its head. Looking down at it, and, addressing my cock, she said “mm, it seems you agree, huh?” She then licked my slit clean, looking up at me with her tongue still out, as if to show me my own cum, before closing her lips and making a show of swallowing it.
“Wait, using your kitty or your butt?” I sat up, taking her face away from my cock, but her hand stayed attached, following me up as she leaned into my thigh. “Baby, I don’t feel comfortable agreeing to use you like that.”
Her pumping did not stop. “Why not, Daddy? I’ve already broken my hymen with my hairbrush, and I’ve tried using my fingers up my butt and it feels really good. Why wouldn’t I let you use my entire body if I didn’t want you to?”
“I suppose you have a point.” And she did; I couldn’t very well expect her to make such an offer willingly if it wasn’t something she wanted to do. The thought that such consent from a 10 year old still wouldn’t hold up in court kept nagging at me. This gave me all manner of ideas as to how she came to this conclusion of her suddenly being my living sex toy, and for that matter, how long she had wanted to be. “Well then, if you say so, Kimmy.” She smiled at my acquiescence. “But if you keep that up, you’ll make me cum again.” Something told me not to say it, but it came out anyway. I smiled and stroked her hair some more, hoping she might get the idea and stop.
Instead, without a word, she leaned up and wrapped her warm lips around my head again, her strokes becoming more vehement and her cheeks elongating from the vacuum she was creating between them. With a soft moan every few seconds from one of us, she slowly built me up again, locking eyes with me as she went. It was difficult to keep my eyes open to look back, her amateur cocksucking doing a number on my neglected member. She didn’t really seem to know much about giving head, which made me feel a little better about her sudden desire to give herself to me sexually. It was all book-knowledge, as it were, not real-world experience. But what she lacked in experience, she made up for in dedication.
Evidently, she believed that ‘sucking dick’ was just that – sucking. Mostly what she was doing was treating the end of my prick like a lollipop or an ice cream cone, swirling her tongue, kissing it wantonly and generally just trying to saturate it in saliva. It was a messy and noisy effort, but it was bringing me to my peak better than I could have imagined. It was as if the innocence of her naivety was all the more appealing. I soon grabbed the back of her head and gently tried to pull her away, wordlessly indicating I was going to cum. She shook her head with my cock still in her mouth, uttered a “mm-mm” and then thrust forward hard as if trying to shove as much of me down her throat as possible. Little Kimmy was, astoundingly enough, able to completely deep throat me, and even more amazingly, she wasn’t choking.
Seeing this marvelous and logically impossible sight did it for me. I winced, clutching her scalp as I leaned back and fired another heavy load right down her esophagus. I could hear her swallowing, and bless her, she tried her damnedest to swallow it, even though I’m sure it was really hard. When I’d finished after five good shots or so, she pulled me out and coughed a little, splattering some cum onto my thigh. I chuckled and looked down at her smiling, “you wanted it.” She giggled slightly back up at me, taking my cock back into her mouth to lick and suck it all clean.
Upon satisfaction of her work, she bounded to her feet next to the couch, moved over next to my face and said sweetly, “ok, time for you to fuck me now!” She said this with such fervency, I’d almost think she were serious. I laughed heartily as I sat up, wiping a tear from my eye. As my vision cleared and I looked at her, Kimmy’s look was that of puzzlement.
“Wha- You were serious?”
“Of course I was, Daddy. How else are you going to use my body going forward if you don’t know what it’s like to fuck me?” Again, flawless logic…
“Language, young lady!” I’d honestly never used such words around her. I know she’d seen several movies containing it and a litany of other swear words, but I wasn’t going to be the one to teach her that a ten year old using such language was ok.
“Oh please, Daddy,” she said as she flopped back onto the couch next to me, apparently accepting that she wasn’t getting any right now. “You can’t exactly call it ‘making love’ if the point isn’t to get me pregnant.”
My brain to mouth filter malfunctioned just long enough for me to blurt out “what happened to the shy little girl that wanted her Daddy to kiss her an hour ago?”
“That mind shattering orgasm you gave me when you ate me pretty much killed her.” She said this with such ease and a smile so wicked, I felt sure I’d awakened a beast from whence there was no hope for escape. As though she were in my head, she agreed, leaning into my chest, “face it, Daddy. You created a monster.”
I couldn’t help but to chuckle as my hand fell to her back. Looking down at the half naked angel clenched to my manly bosom, I couldn’t help but sigh contentedly, replying “indeed I seem to have.” Sighing once more as I looked up at the clock to notice it was just turning noon, I muttered, “this is going to be one interesting weekend.