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Introduction:

Continuing the fantasy, with some mature women as well, before reunited with my daughter...
FRUITS OF OTHERS’ LOINS - Part 3
(Following on, my fantasy tale continues, sometimes sad, sometimes glad…)

I made frequent business trips away from my apartment, more now that there was only myself to worry about; whenever I was home, Pung was available to me for any comfort I needed. She never pushed herself at me, never asked for gifts or rewards, just gave me of herself.
In reality, I rarely took advantage of her body’s availability; my libido was changed, and I now found myself thinking more carnally, and morally incorrectly, of younger flesh, such as that I had experienced with Chris, and younger Jill and even younger Kathy, and even the little experience with my own step-daughter, Sally.
There were new pleasures however; Jill and Kathy’s family moved away only a little over 2 weeks after Sally and her mother had gone. The 2 girls both came to hug me together, Jill able to reach my mouth for a lingering kiss; Kathy’s arms around my waist closer to my crotch which also received a warm, fond farewell. Chris I never saw again, but will always remember the trysts we had shared, those girls and I.

A new family soon moved into the vacant apartment; 3 generations of Indian women, who greeted me warmly enough whenever we met somewhere, the elevator, at the pool, car park etc. Grandmother, a buxom, larger-sized but surprisingly young woman, took care of the house, and cooking and her granddaughter for school or activities. The young girl, Tale, was 11 she told me one day – same age as my Sally, and they could have been friends I felt – and she was a classical Indian beauty: slim and lithe, body just showing signs of emerging, budding woman, and with smouldering grey eyes which seemed to pierce my soul when she looked wide-eyed at me.
I was at the local supermarket one Saturday, and happened to see the grandmother with a load of bags, struggling, so I offered to assist, and loaded it all into my car – her daughter was away with their car and driver at work – and then settled grandmother into the passenger seat. In our car park, I paused at the elevator to unload, and she waited for me as I parked in my spot, and rejoined to help her again.
We carried it to her apartment, separated my one small bag of groceries, and I lifted the rest on to the kitchen counters for her. She was effusive in her thanks, and promised to make me something ‘special’ as a reward. I smiled and assured her it was no problem, and anytime I could help her, just to ask. She gave my arm a warm squeeze, held up to her large bosom with both hands, and seemed reluctant to let go. I extricated my arm and bade her ‘bye and went to my own empty apartment – Pung having the weekend off as normal.
I felt hot and sweaty and took a shower, put on my house shorts and settled with a beer in front of the TV while I decided if I wanted to make a sandwich or not…I couldn’t be bothered. I lay on the sofa, and almost dozed, when a knock came at the door. It was Grandmother and in she carried a plate of curry and another of vegetables and rice, and proceeded to take charge of feeding me lunch.

She found her way around the kitchen, set the table for two, and I was useless in the face of her determination to ‘reward’ me. I apologized for my attire, and ran to my room to get a t-shirt, debated over new shorts, but decided mine were ok.
She said “Ready, come and eat, Mr. L.” and I sat down at the head of the table where she had placed me, she on my right, close enough to rub legs when she sat down. I jumped up and offered her water…or beer? She laughed and said “Oh, maybe a beer would be good for this occasion!” ‘What occasion?’ I wondered, but gave her a glass and a can of Heineken, and poured for her, the same for myself, and sat down again, her leg rubbing along mine again.
First, we toasted with our drinks, and she giggled “I never drink alcohol normally! This could be fun!” Then she served me the food she had, obviously hurriedly, prepared especially for me. It was delightful, a Rogan gosh I think she said, but tender meat and curry, spicy but as I loved spicy, it was a wonderful meal. She served me every time my plate seemed too empty, until I protested I was full!
She had meanwhile only eaten a little, but was downing her glass quickly, and I, as host, replenished her beer. She said, only at the second glass: “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. L, and take advantage of me, maybe?” I laughed with her and shook my head, “You stop drinking when you want, my Lady – I won’t push you to get drunk, no, no. That wouldn’t be polite when you have made me such a wonderful meal; and filled my apartment with a really nice atmosphere and laughter. If you were not here, I would just be sitting on the sofa and watching TV, nothing else to do. So thank you, but don’t worry: you are lovely, but I won’t molest you!”
By the end of the first can, she was asking for another; “Are you sure?” So I poured another for her; by the end of that, I had eaten my fill, she had stopped eating and then: “Yes, I also have an empty apartment until tonight, so another beer was fine; I might even go and just sleep on your sofa myself! But I think your bed would be more comfortable for an old lady to have an afternoon nap. Yes?”
I was a little flustered, especially as her leg had begun to twist around mine during this exchange; “Oh, you are not ‘old’; you look so young, I have found it hard to believe, you are grandmother to Tale, you look so much too young for a daughter AND a granddaughter.”
“But anyway, if you need to have a rest, you are welcome; you go where you want, and I will clean up and wash your dishes, ready to take home. Thank you so much, it was beautiful; I love Indian food, but it isn’t often I get to eat it ‘hot’ from the kitchen, so to speak.”
I didn’t even watch where she went; I cleaned the table of dishes, washed everything, left them to dry, and went to Sally’s bathroom to empty my bladder, and also cleaned my teeth there: Sally and I cleaned teeth together often, so I had toothbrushes everywhere!
I closed the front door, intending a nap of my own, and only then did I wonder: where did Grandmother go? I vaguely had assumed she had stumbled downstairs one floor to her apartment, but then felt guilty I hadn’t escorted her, knowing she was somewhat drunk.
I found her sprawled on my bed, seemingly asleep, sari half unwrapped but showing plenty of bra and skin nevertheless, and almost under the light duvet I used in daytime when I only used a fan to sleep: she must have just collapsed. What should I do, what did I do?

I spoke quietly to her, ascertained she was asleep, and tried to gently lift the duvet to cover her, after I had turned on the fan; she was not especially heavy, I was surprised, given her buxom build, as I lifted her legs to cover her, wondering if she would wake and bash me for ‘taking advantage’. She stirred but only rolled over towards the middle of the bed, and the sari unwrapped itself fully; oh my, the material of her sari had hidden a beautiful body, now in a brown bra and matching panties, and I thought ‘this wasn’t my idea for my afternoon nap!’
I covered her, as much for my own protection as hers, and moved around to the other side of the bed – actually not my side, as I slept on the side Grandmother was normally. Why didn’t I go out to the sofa and leave her sleep alone…well, that thought fleetingly occurred to me, but the sight of her, unwrapped like a ‘special reward’, had thrown that thought out the window: she must have known a little of what she was doing when she came into my bed.
I lightly lay down, covered myself, removed my shorts – as I only ever slept nude, for umpteen years – and made myself comfortable, a metre away from Grandmother in the king-sized bed. I closed my eyes and felt sleep coming…
But then a body was also coming towards me, and she rolled over until she was laying half across me, murmuring ‘hot’, as she removed her own bra and then her panties, and then relaxed – still laying so close to me, yes: I could feel her heat! And my own heat began, even as I willed it away; it didn’t help, her leg was over my groin, and my groin responded naturally: almost pushing her leg away, such was the strength in my cock jumping to life.
“Oh!” Grandmother said, “I was dreaming of something about you…and now, here it is! We are too old for romantics: just wet me and fuck me!”
I obliged, but first I had to wrap my lips around her tits: I couldn’t, but as much as I could I swallowed into my mouth, and used my tongue to lap an enormous nipple to full erection, and I suckled both of them for long minutes, before acceding to her wish to go ‘down’. But first my mouth went up and found hers, and our tongues combined to drive the heat higher, and I threw the duvet totally off us, leaving us both naked and open.
I kissed my way down her belly, and couldn’t wait to reach the brown curls I had seen when I removed the duvet, covering her cunt lips but not obscuring them from my tongue. They were brown and red, and swollen, and already wet; she didn’t need me to wet her anymore, but I did with my tongue, and my fingers found her clit until she had her first orgasm. My cock had been ready for all the time from when I had first found her in my bed, and now I speared her with it, direct to the back wall of her pulsating vagina.
She arched her back as I penetrated her; my cock was no monster, but I hoped was a pleasurable length and width, and she was tight: as someone who had gone without making love for quite a while. So I gentled my thrusts, eager as I was to come after a long time without myself, and tried to make the ‘act’ one of love-making, not just ‘sex’. She was a woman of libido, and she climaxed again on my first thrust, and now, as I slowed, she just moaned and groaned, and clasped her hands to my head – which was now able to suck anew at those breasts – and clasped her legs in a stranglehold around my buttocks/my waist, drawing me in to herself ever tighter and deeper.

It couldn’t possibly last, but for a long while I was amazed I did; I kept thrusting, she kept seemingly to orgasm, and her juices pouring out around my cock seemed to prove this, until she uttered those words which some men hear, and many men want to hear “Fuck me now! Do it now! I want you NOW!!”
I obliged the Lady, and the fruitless seed, built up of many months without pure release, poured out in a torrent into her, as my cock buried itself way back into her body, where I don’t know, but ‘it’ knew its way to the core of her being, and it reached there and pumped and pumped. Had I been a man able to give sperm, she must have gotten pregnant from this coupling! As it was, we had just made love, and the pulses of semen just added to the wonderful feeling between a Man and a Woman, without consequences (at least of a physical nature).
I returned to sucking on her breasts for a few moments, then to her neck and then reached her mouth, as my cock wilted and her hips began subsiding from their upward thrusting of orgasms, and our mouths met and kissed tenderly. We both rolled over partially, towards her side of the bed, and I was facing her and still bound to her, and thus we fell asleep…
Until Tale walked in!

“Grandma!” a voice exclaimed, “What are you doing like that?” and we both woke with a start at the young girl’s baffled, incredulous words. Grandmother rolled away from me, frantically searching for the duvet, but her action had the effect of pushing me off the edge of the bed, and I landed face up, and cock up, on Tale’s feet. She stared down at me, and then at my cock, and I was staring up at her, but right up her dress: she wore no panties and what I could see was a bald pair of vaginal lips looking down at me also.
She jumped backwards a step, as my cock jumped forwards and upwards towards her, not quite a step, but a distinct movement as if it was on a search mission. Then I came to my senses, once it was her mesmerized face I was looking at, and felt acutely embarrassed, not least because she was standing then in a trance-like state still staring at my throbbing, waving cock.
I muttered “Excuse me Tale…” and rushed to the bathroom, where at least a wrapped towel offered me some covering, and I returned to find Grandma just fastening her sari, and looking at Tale without being able to form any words it seemed. I didn’t offer any contributions, deciding matters were best left to Grandma to either to try and laugh it off or to explain in her own way to Tale.
I walked with them to the front door, Grandma collected her dry dishes, and they both wished me “Bye Mr. L”, with a thank-you smile from Grandma to me, and a look of questioning on Tale’s face. I thanked Grandma for the lunch in response, and wished them a good weekend. Then I closed, and decided in the future, it might be wise to lock the front door occasionally.

Grandmother visited me quite often after that, once even at lunch-time when I popped home; she must have heard me or seen me and she was upstairs in a flash; and even though Pung was in her own room out the back of the apartment, Grandma dragged me into the bedroom, and raped me!
But it was Tale’s visits which overtook my senses, and took my body to heights of pleasure unimagined in my world before.
She came the following Saturday afternoon, asked if I wanted to go with her to the pool for a swim, as she was alone at home – and, after all, it was New Year’s Eve!
It had been a depressing day for me anyway, and I honestly hadn’t considered New Year; I went to the office for the morning, and had come home knowing it was empty of Sally – and her mother, my wife still – and Pung off for the weekend. It was depressing, no guessing involved, so I figured I would just drink some beers, enough to fall asleep and while away some of the empty hours.
Then Sally – no, it was Tale - came calling before my first beer was finished. She was dressed in her one-piece swimsuit (in Australia we would call it a ‘Speedo’), a tight black one which gave grace and extra beauty to her lithesome figure, to her blooming adolescence, and contrasted with her penetrating, grey eyes, staring into my soul as always. She knew my feelings, it seemed, even as I presented a smile towards her.
“Yes, ok Tale, I will go with you; I wasn’t planning anything special. I will just put my costumes on, be right back.”
We never made it to the pool; she was right behind me as I went to my room, stripped off my shorts, and reached into the drawer for my swimming costume. A hand, a delicate, tiny hand came around from behind and grasped my prick, soft and unexcited at that stage, and pulled on it gently, joined by a second hand, and a body pressed to my rear – without a swimsuit.
Obviously, it could be nobody other than Tale, but she only said one sentence: “I have waited for this.”
Then she continued to work on my cock, which, within moments, was responding and growing, especially as she pressed her lips in tiny kisses to the rear of my body, up and down, wherever she could reach while her hands were so employed.
She spoke quietly again “I have been a yoga student, and also a Kama Sutra one since before I even began pre-school….I can take away the sadness, Mr. L, in many ways you might enjoy. Come with me.”
This 11y.o girl led me by the cock to my bed, and there commenced showing me how she could effect her statement.
My cock remained straight, bigger it felt than it had ever been, but she knew how to keep it that way; she positioned her body around mine, in impossible positions, but never allowed me entry – just kept ‘taunting’, but it wasn’t taunting, it was keeping me on the heights of ecstasy never letting me fall, but never allowing me to penetrate and bury myself within her, as my body naturally demanded: 11 or 100y.o it didn’t matter to me. It was excruciatingly painful one moment, it seemed, and pure bliss the next.
I do not know how many minutes or hours passed; I did nothing but what she softly advised me to do, which position to assume, and she groaned and screamed at times even, so I could only also assume I was giving her pleasure.

And then, in one final moment of conversation, Tale whispered “Now, put your cock in where it wants to go, and let it fuck me!”
My cock appeared to have studied well in this one session of the Kama Sutra, and it squirmed like a snake through the lips of Tale’s cunt, the tip feeling all around the confined space, pausing as it found an interesting spot, poking as it pushed up to a clitoris, and poking and rubbing there more when Tale moaned in a joyful response. On my cock travelled, Tale rolling to her side but using a hand to pull my buttocks tight behind her, and I slid deeper as she raised her legs and pushed her young body back into my groin. I now had one arm under her head, its length able to allow my hand to fondle her breast and be amazed at the size of her nipple (a la grandmother it seemed) as it grew within my fingers – my mouth needs to go there, I thought hungrily.
Her pelvis squirmed around my swollen cock, and I seemed to grow even more, feeling her cunt squeezing me in there, all sides enveloped in the heat and the lust from us both, but my cock’s length was yet to fully be immersed and I felt the need to lunge and do what Tale had ordered: ‘fuck her’.
I pulled at her nipple, stretching it to some impossible size, used my free hand to grasp her curled-up knees and jam them back at me, and thrust in, clamping my mouth down to suck on her shoulder to stifle the roar building within me at this most primal act of Man and Woman. In equal response, Tale screamed, and bit on my arm so hard it must have hurt under normal circumstances – but this wasn’t normal: an 11y.o. Woman fucking me, and being fucked by me; it was Beautiful.
I was, at that moment, at the peak of my sexual prowess, and Tale seemed to sense it, as she appeared to rotate in my arms like a spirit, and as my balls began to churn, she was facing me, her mouth on mine and we joined tongues even as our arms were twined around our bodies, and my cock and her cunt were able to erupt together – and it did feel like a volcano, but our bodies were so welded the shock waves were internal, and each pulse of my cock’s semen appeared met by an orgasm of Tale’s fluids and they crashed around inside her vagina…endlessly it seemed afterwards.

“OH MY” I tried to exclaim after some minutes of ragged breathing, feeling the drops of sweat sliding slowly down our bodies, still embraced, and still joined by a cock unwilling to leave the holy cave of Tale. She brought me back somewhat to reality by giggling – this is a young girl, my brain was able to form at least a semblance of this as being a taboo action to have done.
“Oh my,” I more quietly said, “Tale, I didn’t even ask if you are a virgin, but I hope I didn’t hurt you in any way.”
“No, Mr. L., I broke my hymen in class a few years ago. And, no, you didn’t hurt me at all: it was a perfect virgin-taking for me. It was as beautiful as the Book of Kama Sutra says making love can be. Thank you.”
“But Tale, I am a much older man (an ‘old man’ really) and this isn’t allowed, and I have raped you! What would/will your mother and grandmother do when they find out? I am so, so sorry Tale – even though I can promise you I have no sperm to make you pregnant at least.”
She turned her face to kiss me for a long minute, rolling her lithe body on top of mine in the process, and then assumed a serious expression: “We have a shower, have a rest, some food and drink – and then we do it all again!”
We did.
(My wife and I had once had 4, almost 5, bouts of sex in one day when we went to a resort for the weekend. But today…..)
Tale made love to me after my second fucking of her: I entered her from behind as she made us sandwiches at the kitchen bench; my cock lifting her up again and again as she tried to get some food ready for us. I felt young during these moments, and my cock also, and she gasped in front of me as I fondled her breasts, kissed her back, and warned her about the knife in her hand, and the knife spearing her young womanhood’s cunt: she screamed in response and collapsed against my body in orgasm when I hit her cervix and stayed there.
Her sandwiches were a scrambled mess of lettuce and tuna, but we ate, standing there in the kitchen, after my cock had performed its final pulse, and slipped out of a very drenched cunt. After, leaving the dishes for later, we lay on the sofa; I drank a beer and vaguely watched a movie. As I was dozing, beer forgotten, Tale wriggled her body up, her nipples one by one being placed in my mouth, and her small hands and fingers lightly grazing through my long hair, delicately grazing my scalp with nails which seemed to have a sexually arousing feel of their own.
Her nipples were alive! In my mouth, they could squirm seemingly from Tale’s will, and they danced with my tongue, growing and shrinking, growing to long and teasing lengths....almost like small penises, and I sucked, perhaps better than I have ever sucked on any male penis (but that’s another story....)
I couldn’t help but stupidly comment “You and your grandmother both have beautiful big nipples” and she laughed “My mum does too, and she has studied Kama Sutra for far longer than I also!”
With that, Tale impaled herself on a prick I didn’t even know had risen; but arise it did and she made it work beyond its normal strength, her cunt muscles, her legs, her pelvis, her hands, her lips and her mouth - even her long pointy toes all seemed able to evoke a magical, multiple, response from a cock which should have succumbed – but which still seemed capable of releasing orgasms from my young Tale, and orgasm she did: all that afternoon until darkness had fallen and she finally released me with a gentle kiss on my lips, breathed “I will shower and go home Mr. L. While you have a long sleep and dream until....”

Until Sunday morning.... as I woke on the sofa and stretched my somewhat numb body, aware of the sun being high in the sky, and that the temperature had risen.
A shower later, refreshed, and actually feeling quite ‘chipper’, I made a coffee and some toast, opened the front door to get the paper, and settled down at the table to relax. Then I glanced at the clock: almost 14.00! Wow, no wonder I feel rested, a most unusually long sleep – just as Tale had said....
I whiled away the afternoon, totally relaxed and comfortable with Life – until I thought of Sally.
Ah Sally. Many of my trips for work were to her home country, Vietnam, and every time I attempted contact with my wife; the only time she met me was to demand a divorce, and gave me a notice to attend Court on a particular date. She refused to let me meet Sally, knowing full well that her daughter, my daughter for all purposes, even if not of my loins, was her trump card: if I agreed a divorce, she would let me see Sally. I ached to see her, but I fought against agreeing the divorce, promising whatever was wrong, I could fix it – albeit I had no true idea why she left me, except she said it was a younger (perhaps richer) man, but in fairness to her, she never said any bad words about me or our marriage: she just decided to change!

Through a friend, I went to discuss the matter with a lawyer, who at least got a 3 month extension to the Court date, to allow us time to prepare and for me to organize my business activities with sufficient planning.
I did what I could that trip, based on the lawyer’s advice, and sent a Land Valuation specialist around to all the properties I had paid for, but which, being Vietnam, were solely in the name of my wife, and I arranged these documents to be certified and given to my lawyer to present to the Court. It was a large amount of money involved, and my astute wife had chosen well: the values had jumped in this, a land boom time in southern Vietnam. As a couple, we were considerably rich.
I also denied her access to our joint account at my bank; though I told her I would send money to support Sally as needed.
Divorce law granted a 50/50 equity split, in the event of a mutually agreed divorce. I didn’t want a divorce, and the money was secondary, but my wife was adamant: no divorce, no meeting Sally. This complicated matters for the Court, and though I gained several postponements while continuing to seek reconciliation with my wife, eventually the Court determined a binding date to appear.

I was at my wits end, and it was affecting my work performance. Eventually, my GM gave me a generous severance payment and terminated me: ironically, on the day I was to fly to Vietnam to attend Court 2 days hence. Life suddenly appeared gloomier.

I met with my lawyer who advised me not to become agitated, and also said she doubted if the Court would award the Law-given half-share, given one party were a citizen and one a foreigner: it would be a matter of compromise. I saw my wife for a minute before we were called into an open-air office full of people – no private court hearing or arbitration here. I asked her one more time not to seek this divorce; she stoically refused, so in we went.
It was the first of 3 meetings over the course of 2 months; me obstinately requesting no divorce be granted; my lawyer advising against accepting the offer of settlement made by my wife – substantially less than 50% of the Court-accepted valuation of our joint assets, and declining to include my previously compiled superannuation or future earning power as demanded by my greedy wife.
I had no complaints with the Court; they were fair and only sought a compromise. In the end, I felt crushed and just gave in, accepting the amount as increased a little as her final offer, and we were granted a divorce.
As Sally’s stepfather only, I had no rights to any form of custody or visitation; I could only rely upon my wife being magnanimous in victory. She was in fact; as we exited the Court, she gave me the most tender, enveloping hug, better than any we had shared for a long time, said she was sorry, and promised to bring Sally around to my house for the day tomorrow. Through my tears, I mouthed “I love you still.” And watched her walk away, detecting a glisten in her own eyes.

Today is the Promised Day.
I didn’t sleep well; I hadn’t seen Sally for almost 1 and a half years, and she had just turned 13y.o, a teenager now in Western terms, and I wasn’t with her on her birthday. But I had bought her a present and kept it for whenever – as I fervently had been hoping – we might meet again. Today is it.
Her uncle (well my wife’s –ex-wife’s uncle) dropped her at my door, not her mother; he said to phone when Sally was ready to come home and he would pick her up. Sally said, in Vietnamese which I well understood: “I don’t want to go home.” I looked at the uncle, and he just said “Call me.”

I hadn’t really looked at Sally until he rode away on his motorbike. Now I did, as I leaned down – only a little as she had grown tall so fast – and gave her a hug, returned by her and then she kissed me: once on each cheek as was custom, but then turning her mouth to mine and giving me a third, square on my mouth. I straightened after a moment, smiled at her and held her hand as we entered the front room of my rented house, and closed the door. “You look beautiful and grown up Sally, changed so much…” and I broke into tears at the thoughts of what I had lost: her.
She clung to me and cried also, but she was the one soothing her dad, saying “Ssshhh Daddy, ssshhh it’s ok now, I am here. I have missed you terribly, but now I am here”
I hugged her and gradually my tears subsided, and I grabbed some tissues and dried her eyes, then my own, and blew my nose. I tried a laugh to show her I was ok; “It is just so good to see you, my little one – but not so little; stand back there and let me look at you.”
Gosh, she had grown up! Not only had she become a woman, in that she had comforted me, but when I really looked at her, standing there, twirling in a pink blouse and black skirt, she had breasts for goodness sake! And her legs, on this new, taller slender body were gorgeously shaped. Added to her natural colouring, oh my, she was a beautiful sight.
“You are a beautiful young lady, con (Vietnamese for child); how I have missed you.”
She smiled, blushing “Thank you Daddy. I dressed for you, and hoped you would like me.” “Oh Sally, I love you as I always have, and always will. Never be worried about that, wherever your mother may take you.” And I began to tremble and cry yet again. Sally ran to me, pushed me onto the sofa and held me like a woman to a child, to her young breast and whispered into my ear “I am yours forever Daddy Steve, never forget that.” She kissed my forehead, and rocked me.
I was a mess; I was her Daddy, supposed to be having a fun time with the daughter who I hadn’t seen for so long, and didn’t know when I would see again; yet I was a blubbering baby, not giving anything to Sally in the way of enjoyment in this one day we had together. I pulled myself together, sliding up her breast and kissing her cheek, but yet again she turned her face to mine and met her lips to mine, a woman to a man, not a daughter to her Dad.
I was glowing with feelings as our lips stayed together, and I wrapped her in my long arms and held her close to me; she didn’t pull away, nor did I, but between the breaths through our noses, the thickening in my cock intruded, and I had to think: ‘this is wrong!’ But Sally wouldn’t release me, even as I began to pull away from her mouth and her body, which had pressed even closer as we kissed, and there was no doubt she felt my cock pressing against her.
“Daddy, Steve. Stop fighting me, stop fighting yourself - just show me the love you have for me, as I will show you mine.”
“Sally, you are only 13, what has happened to you; you seem so much older?” “Oh Daddy, I have been getting ready for you ever since we cuddled in our apartment in Bangkok. I knew this day would come, and I wanted to be older and a Woman for you when we were able to meet.”
It was beginning to seem too surreal, unbelievable. Is this a dream, I had to wonder? My baby girl carrying on a charade – perhaps her mother had set her up to trap me? – or did she truly feel so grown up and so loved me she truly wanted to be a full Woman to her Daddy. I stood up from her embrace, and went to the kitchen, composing myself and getting a beer from the fridge.
Sally followed quietly “You don’t believe me, do you Steve; I have waited for you, begged Mum to let me see you, be with you, but she wouldn’t until yesterday. I know what happened, and I know you didn’t want to divorce, but today you have me back again, and I am so happy. Please let me feel happy with you, Daddy!”
“Oh sweet Sally, I couldn’t be happier also; I too have begged your mother, but she wouldn’t agree. You are my baby girl and now I see you are also grown up in more ways than the obvious one.” “What is the ‘obvious one’ Steve?” She emphasized the name, seeming to signal that I was a Man talking about a Woman.
“Well, you are taller for one” I blustered. “And, that’s all?” Sally questioned. “Well, you have…ah…developed” I responded, not sure how to truly say the truth: she was alluring and sexy and a temptation to her Dad. “How have I developed Steve? Where?” she emphasized my name yet again and this threw me into more confusion: how to answer?
“Well, you have grown up; you have grown in the right places for a growing young woman…” I couldn’t help myself as I added “And your legs are so perfectly beautiful!” She giggled a little, “Is that all you have looked at, Steve? Haven’t I grown otherwise?” “Sally, what are you asking all these questions for: you look like a young, growing Woman ok! Like my baby girl has disappeared and instead, there is a beautiful young Woman, looking perfect to me, looking beautiful, grown in all the right places…and even sexy, if that’s what you want to hear! But I am your Daddy, and of course you will always be perfect to me.”
“Does that include my tits Steve?” She placed her hands on those items and lifted them, braless I knew, but jiggling enough to show she really did have breasts (‘tits’ could I use this word?)
I groaned; my little Sally would never have said that word; she wasn’t my ‘little girl’ anymore; surely she had grown up a lot! I sighed “You know your Dad doesn’t tell lies, so yes, Sally, your breasts have also developed very nicely. Now, let’s get out of here and go for some breakfast or lunch – I don’t even know what time it might be anymore; you have come back to me, and I don’t care what time, what day it is, I am just happy we can go out and have a good time together. Let’s go!”
“Then we will come home, right Daddy?” I nodded, unsure if I should have agreed or not. But I knew I wanted her to be here, and I wanted Sally to be here with me. Always.
(End of Part 3)
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