She looked down at David as he slept quietly, liking how his thick blondish brown hair fell into his eyes, an untamable mop that made him look so handsome, so attractive and, in her eyes, still so young. She knew underneath those eyelids with their thick lashes were a pair of sparkling sky-blue eyes that would crinkle at the edges, projecting private amusement at the world, viewing life as a gift when everyone else saw only struggle and strain.

The first light of dawn brightened his bedroom, casting light over the simple bleached-wood Swedish bed, over a light, fluffy quilt, and over the ash wood chest of drawers supporting a flat panel TV. A leather armchair had yesterday's clothes haphazardly strewn over it and his shoes were left on the floor, one on its side with scuff marks on its heel from kicking it off with his other foot, something he'd always done.

Bending, she slipped her panties off letting them fall to join her nightgown and bathrobe on the floor. Lifting the bedcovers she slipped in, the bed yielding beneath her, cotton sheets cool against her skin. His male scent wafted out at her, a familiar and arousing scent. He'd be naked. He always slept naked; always had.

She felt her moistness, her arousal sharp, her need for release throbbing inside, and her nipples turgid with anticipation. A sexy dream had woken her begging for more than a touch of her hand, her body aching to be sated.

Drawing the quilt up over her she turned on her side, facing away from David. In a familiar move she shuffled back gently until her rear pressed against his side, waiting for the predictable response; a reaction she could guarantee like the rise of a morning sun. A smile formed when she felt David roll towards her, his warm body pressing and forming itself to her. His arm slipped under her neck. She reached for it and guided his hand, sighing silently with pleasure when his warm palm found her aching breast, cupping it lovingly, his thumb gently caressing her turgid nipple.

A spike of arousal stormed through her when she felt his penis grow, lengthen and harden; his thick erection nestling between her buttocks. She squeezed him gently, a buttock massage she knew he loved, before reaching down, her leg rising to hook back over his thigh. Feeling around, she ached with desire when her hand found his erection, thick, hard and throbbing; capable of giving so much pleasure. Anticipation made her pussy clench, a thrill passing through her; the excitement of touching his beautiful erection making her heart beat faster.

Curling her rump away from him, she dragged the bulbous tip of his penis down between her buttocks, across her rosebud, and guided it to her pussy, trembling slightly at how big it felt against her cleft and the anticipation of being filled, beautifully stretched. Her arousal built, breasts aching, her cleft slippery. Sliding his crown along her slit, pressing back towards him slightly, she felt her labia part to hug it in a welcoming embrace. A tremor shook her when it found her clitoris and pressed against it, sending beautiful pulses of pleasure from her pussy to her nipples. She moaned, her need suddenly urgent, an ache deep inside her needing to be touched, an itch needing scratching, desire now demanding fulfillment.

Tilting her pelvis slightly she used her fingertips to press his engorged crown back from her clit, sliding it through her cleft, guiding it to her centre until, with a sigh, she felt the tip nestle to her vagina, thick and throbbing; ecstasy awaiting. Curling her rear back slowly, incredibly slowly, she teased herself, feeling one of her favorite parts of intercourse; his erection pressing against her opening demanding entry, his beautiful erection about to penetrate her, her entrance stretching, stretching, his crown stretching her more and more until, on the cusp of pain, sweet pleasure radiating as he popped in, filling her, thick, rigid, so good.

Sighing, with his crown safely lodged in her entrance, sensuously stretched and need pulsing inside, she pressed his palm to her aching breast and squeezed her pussy slightly, encouraging him, urging him, her sign.

She smiled with anticipation when his other hand settled on her hip, knowing the sensation that was coming. She felt him hold her hip firmly, his other hand caress her aching breast, tweak her hard nipple, and gently, slowly he pressed, thrusting carefully, withdrawing, thrusting gently, slowly, exquisitely stretching her, slipping deeper and deeper into her moist pussy. She moaned silently when he pressed his beautiful erection into her fully, stretching her, filling her completely, his crown pressing against the ache deep inside. This was her second favorite part, before the storm of sex and disarray of a climax set in. Feeling him fill her, feeling beautifully stuffed, his erection so big, so hard inside her, her heart rate spiked. She moved her rear slightly, encouraging him with a soft clench, her need for release now stirring simply from being fully penetrated.

An aching void formed inside her when he withdrew, his erection slipping out. She tried to hold him in by gripping him with her pussy, tight on his shaft. When only the crown remained inside she pressed back refusing to let him escape, his erection thrusting into her fast, deep, deep, thumping against her deepest part, the part that ached. Breath expelled, pleasure, so good, so full. He withdrew and thrust again, slowly this time, easily, teasingly, so slowly she felt his crown spreading her pussy, slipping in like a thick, rigid rod and filling her so perfectly.

Reaching down, she held her pussy, caressing silky soft, curly pubic hair, probing and seeking, her finger sliding between silken, slippery labia to touch her hard, sensitive clitoris. She twitched at the touch, David's erection thrusting in deep. Perspiration formed under her breasts, heart thumping as a rhythm emerged; slow, excruciatingly exciting withdrawal, empty, empty, a silent moan as he fucked into her firmly, thrusting deep, all the way, stretching her, filling her, a caress of her clit, pleasure pulsing up to her aching nipples, followed by another slow excruciatingly exciting withdrawal.

A rhythm was set, the path to ecstasy, slow intercourse, morning sex, feeling empty, feeling gloriously full, his incredible erection filling her, deeply penetrating her. She moved slowly, sparks of pleasure hitting her. Slowly, slowly the pace increased as desire raged inside, his hand on her hip tugging her back against him with more authority, thrusting into her harder, firmly, filling her, filling her. Lost in the incredible sensations bombarding her, she let herself go fucking back at David, fucking him, full, empty, full. She rubbed her clit faster, sparks of pleasure coursing through her, nipples hard and aching, getting close to nirvana, pressing back against his thrusts faster, faster, so close, baby.

Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to tamp down her climax, to hold back, waiting for him as he fucked her hard, tugging her hip back, shoving his beautiful erection deep, his groin slapping against her buttocks. Her favorite part of loving him was about to happen. She felt it in his urgency. Trembling with need she waited, waited in delicious agony, and then, suddenly, she was rewarded.

Suddenly she felt his cock swell and expand. She felt him shove into her deep, his crown slamming against her end. She felt him tremble, his erection pressed deep, his hand gripping her hip hard. He jerked and warm wetness flooded her pussy, David cumming in her, his semen spurting into her. She shook as her climax stormed in, nipples aching, pussy clenching and pleasure rocketing through her. She felt him withdraw and thrust hard, his erection swelling and stretching her as a huge spurt of hot semen exploded into her. She jerked, rubbing her clit, body now thrumming as pleasure cascaded through her, David filling her with his semen as she climaxed, sweet release, sweet release, moaning with pleasure as she writhed on his cock, shivering and shaking through her climax as David released deep in her, his beautiful cock spitting semen, cumming hard into her until finally, finally, her climax crested and released her; ecstasy found, tremors still passing through her body, David slowing and stopping, his erection pulsing and softening, spitting the last drops of his love.

She relaxed in his tight hug, her heart racing, feeling beautifully wet below, at peace, sated, her ache gone, nipples soft.

"Love you, Mom," he whispered softly with a hug.

"Love you, too, honey."

Two minutes later, when energy returned to her limp body, she kissed his rough unshaven cheek and slipped from the bed, the scent of sex hitting her. She dressed. At the door she turned back for a last look at David, her pussy clenching, loving the feel of his semen leaking and dampening the gusset of her panties. She smiled at the sight of David sprawled out, already asleep, his hair a messy mop. Satiated, in a post-orgasmic glow of satisfaction with the burning ache now gone, she smiled as a wave of love for her son washed over her.

Sighing with pleasure, Betty turned and made her way back to her small cottage fifty yards from the main ranch-style mansion, her mind now turned to plans for the day.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Betty smiled with pride. Watching her granddaughter eating an afterschool snack, a chocolate chip granola bar, she once again appreciated how well David had done. He'd raised a beautiful girl. Lucy was so bright and cheerful, so inquisitive and fearless in how she approached life. Betty thought it was wonderful how Lucy felt like she could do anything, achieve anything, and seemed to find only the brightness in life, never its darker underbelly that plagued adults. There was no trace of a spoiled single child in her; just pure innocent happiness at life.

Yes, David had done an excellent job despite being a single parent. She watched her granddaughter with pleasure inside as Lucy chatted away, hands in constant motion reinforcing or emphasizing her points, enthusiastic and animated.

Every time she saw David with Lucy, she saw adoration in his eyes. It was as if he couldn't keep his eyes off his daughter, even when talking to someone else. His sky-blue eyes would slip away to glance at her, the ghost of a smile would appear and, as if he'd had his temporary fix and felt reassured, he'd turn back to whomever he was talking to.

Once or twice a few years ago she'd worried that David wasn't dating enough, not even trying, and worried that their occasional sexual dalliances were enough for David, letting him forgo dating. But his constant reassurances had alleviated her concern. Besides, she saw how full David's life was, busy with a very successful career as a social mathematician, whatever that was, something to do with web site statistics he'd said with a smile, and his daughter, Lucy.

Betty glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling glass walls at the spectacular vista of the Pacific several hundred yards away and below them. On sunny days like this the Pacific swells seemed to have little mirrors that waved and winked intense bright sparks at her in an asynchronous orchestra of light, as if moving to the unheard sound of God's music.

Sipping her tea she thought about David, a flush of pride filling her.

Betty could see how much he loved his daughter and she wasn't in the least surprised at how much Lucy loved him. It was hard not to love such a kind and generous man.

Lucy's chatter brought Betty back.

". . . and so, can you, Gran?"

"Can I what, Love?"

Lucy grinned at her. "Did you go away again? Where this time?"

"I was thinking of your father. Can I what?"

"Take me to the mall tomorrow after school."

"Of course I can, Dear. Why?"

Lucy laughed. "I just told you. I need to find something for Dad. It's Father's Day soon and I still don't know what to get him."

"Oh. Sure. We'll go tomorrow."

Bright blue eyes twinkled at her. "Thanks!" Lucy jumped up from the table and disappeared. "Gonna shower, Gran!"

"Going to, Lucy, not gonna," Betty called out to the echoing sound of running feet as Lucy dashed down the hall.

Betty sipped her tea smiling. Lucy had her mother's thick raven hair and David's sky-blue eyes. She was really quite arrestingly pretty. Betty couldn't remember being as articulate as Lucy at her age, nine. But perhaps it was a result of the attention and devotion David gave her. Either way, had it not been for her prepubescent body, Lucy would seem much older. She'd hit a growth spurt, suddenly four feet and climbing, all arms, legs, feet and knobby knees, slender as a reed without a curve on her except for her bum which, from the side, swelled out, but from directly behind looked like a child's, tiny with no hips.

Betty smiled again as she stood to clear the table. Sometimes she wished Jim was alive to see his granddaughter. You'd have loved her, Jim, Betty thought in one of her many conversations she'd have with her long gone husband. Lucy would have had Jim wrapped around her little finger. She was everything Jim loved in females, pretty and sassy and intelligent.

Placing the clean dishes in the draining rack, Betty glanced at her watch. Five forty-five. David would be back any minute. Drying her hands she checked the kitchen to make sure it was orderly.

She sipped the last of her tea, sounds of the shower filtering to her faintly.

She heard a key turning in the front door as she drained the last dregs. Perfect timing.

"I'm home! Mom? Lucy?"

"In the kitchen, David."

DUMPING MY BRIEFCASE ON the floor I followed the sound of Mom's voice into the kitchen, smiling and bending to kiss her cheek. "How ya doin', Mom? How's Lucy? Where is she?"

Betty smiled. "It's "How are you doing", David, not "How ya doin'." And Lucy is taking a shower."

"Good. Are you staying for dinner?" I asked, hoping she might feel like cooking.

"Sorry, not tonight. I've got plans."

"Really? What plans? With who?"

Mom patted me on my cheek. "With "whom", David. And it is none of your bees wax." She smiled and left. "See ya tomorrow," she threw back at me before the door closed.

I grinned. Mom, being a retired English Lit Professor, hated my contractions. She'd spent a lifetime correcting me. I liked teasing her and suspected she liked it, too. Once again I counted my blessings. Having Mom available to help out with Lucy was a precious gift. Having Mom live so close was fantastic, even if she insisted on living in the small groundskeeper cottage. This house was so damned big she could have had her own suite of rooms. I couldn't remember what my twisted logic was when I'd bought the house.

Hmm. Dinner. What shall I make? Lasagna al forno? Beef Bourguignon? What would Lucy like?

LUCY GRABBED THE LAST slice of pizza before Dad could, smiling at his frown. "You snooze, you lose, Dad."

With a full mouth, his eyes twinkling at her, and smile crinkles at the edges, her heart skipped a bit. She adored Dad. It wasn't something that just happened. She'd adored Dad for as long as she could remember. But recently, those feeling had grown even more. Recently Dad had entered her fantasies as she played with herself, rubbing herself against her scrunched-up pillow or touching herself, dreaming, imagining, wishing. He filled her life, and the way he looked at her, held or hugged her, would make her melt.

"What do you want for Father's Day?" she asked. "It's almost here."

"Ah. Yes. Well, sweetheart, I'd like you to serve me breakfast in bed to start the day. Fried eggs and a bottle of beer."

"Daaad! You can't drink beer for breakfast!" Lucy responded with a giggle.

"Yes I can. Only on Father's Day, though. And, I'd like French toast and freshly squeezed orange juice from navel oranges . . . and fresh black coffee."

Lucy grinned as Dad nodded to himself in satisfaction, then she giggled when he continued.

". . . and bacon, lots of bacon, Lucy. And apple pie and vanilla ice cream . . ."

"Daaad!" Lucy snorted in laughter at the image of him eating apple pie and ice cream in bed for breakfast. "Reeeeally. What do you want for Father's Day?"

Her laughter faded when his sky-blue eyes looked at her with such intensity, such love. Her heart skipped when he spoke.

"You, honey. Just you. You're all I need on Father's Day. Maybe a kiss and a cuddle to wake me up, okay?"

A shiver ran up her back, goose bumps emerging on her arms. He'd done it again. She felt like jumping into his lap, hugging. She didn't.

Lucy sat quietly, thinking, wondering, planning. It could be perfect, if only. Maybe she'd ask Gran for advice.

"Night, Dad," she said as the movie ended, kissing his cheek and hugging him tight. When his arms wrapped around her and he held her she felt her chest ache. I love you so much, Daddy.

AS LUCY LEFT TO go to bed I slouched down in the couch with my feet carefully pushing the pizza box away to make room for my heels. With the remote in one hand and a glass of beer in the other I switched channels to the late evening news.

My mind wasn't on the news, though. I let myself luxuriate in the lingering feeling of hugging my daughter, so slender and petite in my arms. She was as slim as a reed, gangly and growing vertically, almost delicate. Yet I knew she was far from delicate. I knew because I'd hung her upside down and dropped her accidentally as she screamed in frightened joy; I'd seen her fall off her bike, brush herself and climb back on as if nothing had happened. I'd treated all the scrapes and bruises that she'd collected in her headlong plunge into living life, and she'd never complained. I'd seen Lucy cry once, only once, when her mother had left. It had broken my heart and I hoped I'd never suffer from her tears again. Lucy had an uncanny connection to my heart, tugging love from me every time she smiled at me, her sparkling sky-blue eyes so beautiful, framed by her pretty face and dark, raven hair. She could have controlled me so easily had she so chosen.

I wondered how many nine-year-old daughters would worry about Father's Day. Had Mom reminded her of it?

I took a sip of beer, watching TV and seeing nothing. Memories streamed back at me. It had been hard convincing Mom to come live with us when she retired early at fifty-five. Her one condition was she'd only live in the small cottage; her own place separate from me. I'd jumped at the chance and completely renovated and modernized it, no expense spared. I'd stopped worrying about money long ago when social media became a big thing.

Being a mathematician and talented in developing algorithms that identified linkages in exceptionally large databases had provided me with a disgusting income and outrageous stock options. The wealth was probably what caused my ex to leave. Last I'd heard she was somewhere in Brazil, with Umberto now, if memory served.

Having Mom so close was a Godsend. She was home when Lucy finished school and took care of her when I'd work long hours.

Smiling to myself, I accepted there were other reasons I loved having Mom so close. The truth was, Mom was an incredibly sexy lady. At five-three, still blond and lean and petite, she was a fireball of energy that had kept University students behaving and attentive and living in fear at her disapproval. In fact, despite being ten inches taller than her, she could make me feel three feet shorter in the blink of an eye if she was displeased, something I lived in fear of. At the same time, without doing a thing, she made me want to be a better person. I had no idea why or how she did it. Maybe it was a Mom thing.

But Mom was also my occasional, casual lover. It had happened accidentally. I'd always loved Mom, but attraction? No, that had happened at the Marriott, nineteen years ago, Christmas.

Snow slashed at the Ford Taurus' windscreen creating a virtual whiteout as we drove home for Christmas from Boston University, heading to Lancaster. The car slipped and slid in the thick layer of slushy snow that, as the temperature dropped with oncoming nightfall, was slowly becoming an icy deathtrap, steering the car with ever harder and deeper ruts made by crawling traffic.

It had been a mistake to attend the same university Mom was teaching at, but money was tight. Dad had passed away four years before, an architect killed when scaffolding at a worksite had collapsed, leaving us comfortably middle class and able to afford food and shelter and pay off the mortgage but not a university education. Thus, on that particular day, in the depths of a winter storm that Canadians had kindly sent our way, their unwelcome Yuletide gift to America, Mom was struggling with the car as I gripped the seat and door. I was nineteen and knew everything. Sooner or later we were going to crash.

"Mom, we'd better stop," I urged, beginning to feel tendrils of fear when the car slewed to the left.

"Okay. Keep your eyes peeled for anywhere to stay." She smiled reassuringly as the car lurched to the right, the rear end fishtailing. The windscreen started fogging, snow building up into a fat coating on the wipers. I heard the sound of ice scratching the undercarriage.

We found a Marriott. Like too many other travelers that night we took a break from the treacherous drive. And, as we carried two suitcases up to the well appointed room, a single, the only room left, we were thankful that we'd found anything. The sight of a large queen-sized bed, the only bed in the room, didn't affect me one way or the other. And after freshening up we went to dinner. The only space available to dine was the formal restaurant.

The Marriott had stepped up to the plate with the unusually bad weather. Food was excellent, service was impeccable, linens crisp, and they'd even found a lovely lady to play the piano. With a bottle of wine and the calm that descends when you've successfully escaped from a tense situation, I relaxed, enjoying Mom's company.

In the cocoon of good food, nice wine, and safely off the now closed Interstate, and in the mellowness of relief, I studied Mom. She'd let her blond hair down from its usual pinned-up braid so it brushed against her shoulders and back. She'd pulled it back behind small ears, gold studs winking in the candlelight. Her sparkling sky-blue eyes radiated intelligence and personality, her smiles flashing even white teeth across the red-cloth-covered table at me. She looked good with lipstick, an unusual sight.

We chatted about nothing, everything, the world, friends, the weather; an easy companionship. I studied her slender hands holding cutlery, her delicate fingers picking at a bread roll, and the white gold wedding band she still wore next to her white gold and diamond wedding ring. I noticed her fingernails were polished in a clear lacquer, clean and neatly trimmed.

I didn't consciously follow the conversation that flowed so easily between us. I loved Mom. But sitting there, two of us trapped by a snow storm, eating over a candle-lit table, I realized I liked Mom, too. She was a charming lady outside of the lecture hall, even at forty-one. That realization, for whatever reason, made me proud.

When several other guests stood to dance on the small dance floor I didn't hesitate, rising and extending my hand. Mom had taught her shy son to dance for a long-ago middle school prom. I knew she loved dancing.

"Would you like to dance, Mom?" I invited.

Her smile felt nice. Her delicate hand in mine felt nice, too. I felt quite lucky as she came into my arms and we danced slowly to a Frank Sinatra tune, Fly Me to the Moon. I didn't mind that the song, rendered by piano, sounded a bit like elevator muzak. The piano player had a sultry voice that fit the song, backed up by the tinkle and clink of silverware knocking against china plates, and quiet conversations. Mom moved closer, her simple black dress rustling quietly as we moved, resting her head against the front of my shoulder. With one hand holding hers, the other wrapped around her slender waist, and my hand at the base of her back, Mom felt smaller than five-three, even with heels.

I let the music cascade over me, enjoying dancing with Mom; surprised I was enjoying it so much.

"This is nice, David," she said, smiling at me before resting her cheek against my shoulder again.

I caught her scent, a light floral scent. Mom moved into me, her hand on my shoulder blade dropping slightly and pulling me near. Dancing to the soft melody she pressed closer, body-to-body, legs intertwining as we moved together easily, her breasts pressed to my chest.

And then it happened. Was it fatigue? Relaxation? The mood? Wine?

Regardless, embarrassment flooded me. Nineteen years old and dancing with my mother I got an erection. I tensed up immediately and tried to pull back. Her arms tightened immediately preventing me from backing away. We swayed together, heat flushing through my body like liquid lava as I wished the floor would open up and swallow my shame that was growing with every passing sway, every press of a soft female against it.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she whispered, turning her face into my neck. "It's a real compliment. Thank you. Let's just dance for a while longer."

Mom's words seemed to release me from my embarrassment and let me relax. If my physical response didn't bother her, it didn't bother me. I found the magic of dancing with Mom again and let my erection strain as it pressed against her.

We broke for after-dinner coffee. I blushed when Mom smiled at me, her eyes twinkling without a trace of disapproval. She chuckled at my blush and I blushed harder when she said, "Cute." I didn't feel cute.

We danced until late, until the piano player finished. We danced close and I never fully lost my erection. Feeling a warm, sexy female in my arms was too good. It didn't matter that it was Mom. She was warm, soft, moved gently and smoothly against me. She smelled good and was all female.

By the time we returned to the room some sanity was restored, the magic fading. I managed to will my erection down as I listened to sounds from the bathroom; the flush of a toilet, a shower, running water in the sink.

"All yours," she announced, emerging from the bathroom in a shortish nightie that exposed acres of slender, soft, shapely legs.

Her smile at my obvious stare made me blush again. Yet there was no question in my mind as I vigorously brushed my teeth that Mom was, for a forty-one year old woman, in remarkably good shape, remarkably attractive. Why had she never remarried? Had I not known her age I might have pegged it at early thirties. Perhaps it was her petite stature, her still slender figure. Perhaps it was her personality, the one she hid from students, the one that seemed to have a hint of mischief and yards of love in it.

"Night, Mom," I said as I slipped under the covers, turning my back to her.

"Night, honey."

It was still night when I woke, spooning Mom, holding her in my arms. Her scent filled my lungs, a delicate floral scent. She was warm and soft, her buttocks pressed back against me, or maybe it was me pressing my groin against her. I lay absolutely immobile, alert, and suddenly very, very awake.

I knew I should have rolled away. I knew it. But feeling an erection grow inside my boxers, my cock pressing to her rear and naturally aligning itself to the valley formed by two buttocks felt too good. It didn't matter that it was Mom. She was warm, smelled so good, and had a remarkably sexy rear.

I stayed still, just enjoying the altogether surprising illicit pleasure of holding Mom so intimately, surprised I found her so arousing. I was fairly sure nothing would happen and, after a few minutes, I'd have rolled away from her. But Mom turned in my arms to face me.

Bright sky-blue forgiving eyes looked at me. She smiled softly, no shock, no recrimination.

"Thank you, honey," she whispered.

"Why?" I asked, confused.

Mom smiled at me, her hand slipping down to gently touch my erection. "For finding me sexy. It's been a long time."

"Um . . ."

Mom lightly traced the erection outlined in my boxers making it strain. "Well, well. You make me feel quite proud, David. Very impressive." She smiled, her fingers teasingly moving up to the waistband.

It was a confusing moment for me. I wasn't sure if I should do something or escape by rolling out of bed before I came, and that was a real possibility. My stomach muscles were trembling. Mom's touch was remarkably different from the few girlfriends I'd had. Her touch, so illicit, was deeply arousing and very, very exciting. Perhaps she saw my indecision battling with a desire to touch her, because she reached behind her and guided my hand down to her rear before resuming a light exploration of my shape straining against boxers, her knee gently worming its way between my legs.

Mom had a glorious ass, firm, full and sensually pear-shaped; not too big, not too small. I felt the elastic waist of panties under her nightie and used fingertips to slowly draw the nightie hem up, the act itself intensely arousing.

When Mom caressed the tip of my erection gently I throbbed and precum dampened my boxers. She noticed my sharp inhalation when I finally touched silky panties. God, but I was touching Mom's panties!

My hand trembled. I carefully traced the sensual shape of her buttock with my palm, my erection weeping, heart beating a war chant in my chest; I was caressing Mom's ass! I'd never imagined incestuous touching could be so deeply arousing, and all I'd done was feel Mom's butt.

Yet I could feel the tremors and clenches inside me that suggested I wasn't too far from losing it and cumming. Two things happened; my fingertips found the elastic waist of her silky panties, dizziness hitting me as I slipped my hand inside, feeling my mother's cool sensual naked buttock, her soft skin, Jesus, my mother's bare ass; and Mom murmured as her hand imitated mine, slipping inside my boxers, burrowing down, warm fingers curling around my aching shaft, her thumb caressing the tip, Mom fondling me with a gentle squeeze! That was it, my hand inside Mom's panties and her hand holding my erection was enough.

Experienced or not, the erotic thrill was too much. I gasped. My erection swelled. Semen suddenly burned up and jetted out over her caressing thumb.

"Yes," she whispered, nestling her face to my chest, stroking gently. "Cum, David."

I groaned, hunched and exploded, cum spurting out hard as she held me, her whisper driving me beyond anything I'd experienced before. I came hard, spurting over Mom's hand, her thumb teasing the tip as semen exploded, soaking my boxers. I came hard in my mother's hand, trembling, swelling, spurting, pleasure crashing through me, heart pounding. When my orgasm crested I was actually thankful. My muscles had been cramping. And as I calmed, Mom continued to hold my determined erection gently. For the first time in my life release had not diminished my excitement at all.

Eventually she spoke. "Let's get these boxers off."

I felt like apologizing. I felt like a kid. Embarrassment rose like unwelcome acid reflux and it might have overwhelmed me, but Mom spoke softly, cuddling into me after she wiped up my semen with boxers.

"That was so beautiful, David. Thank you."

Her hand caressed my cheek, intelligent eyes smiling at me in pleasure. She drew my face to her, tilting her head slightly, and our lips touched. It started so softly. But gradually pressure increased, eyes closed and, when I hesitatingly parted my lips Mom's did too and the tip of her tongue touched mine. A surge of excitement poured through me when I began to French kiss Mom, teasing her tongue, probing into her mouth and tasting her tongue. The erection that had partially softened returned in full force.

Mom held the back of my head and rolled onto her back, bringing my head with her. As we kissed, she took my hand and guided it down across her stomach, over the slight mature swell of her lower belly, and down over her silky panties. I moaned into her mouth when I gently cupped her full panty-clad pussy, feeling the incredible shape of her mons, the springiness of her pubic bush underneath, and the amazing roundness and fullness between her thighs. I felt Mom's labia under thin panties with my fingertips and the bump of her clitoris poking out and, with shudder of intense, intense excitement lancing into me, I felt a damp spot in the gusset of Mom's panties. That experience sent shockwaves of lust through me. Mom aroused? Mom aroused!!

My erection was complete. Desire was raging through me at touching Mom's panties, feeling her pussy, knowing Mom was turned on. I broke the kiss and gasped for air, taking in deep lungfulls.

Without waiting for an invitation I slipped my hand up over her pussy, pulling her nightie up and found the waistband of her panties, fingertips burrowing under. Mom's skin felt silky smooth and warm to the touch. Her panties pressed against the back of my hand. As Mom gently smiled in encouragement, her hand came up and cupped my cheek. I felt her part her legs to give my probing hand room. Her smile was so warm, loving, inviting. I felt no hesitation at all, no embarrassment at feeling her most intimate part.

Shuddering, my fingertips discovered tightly curled silken pubic hair, a seductively rising mons, silky panties rubbing the back of my hand. I felt her part her legs even further in invitation. My hand gently slipped down to cup her full pussy, my middle finger tracing a warm cleft formed by plump labia. Her clitoris peeked out, raised slightly, and then I touched silken, slippery moisture below.

Mom murmured, her hand finding and pressing my palm into her pussy. Suddenly my finger was sinking between slippery warm lips and, as I curled my finger in, I discovered heat, wetness, and finally I touched Mom's entrance.

"God, Mom," I groaned, heart palpitating in excitement.

She smiled softly, heat now in her eyes. "Let me take these off," she whispered.

Reluctantly I withdrew my hand. Mom sat up and pulled her nightie off over her head. I gawped at her breasts as she lay back down, raised her ass and slipped her panties off. Mom's breasts were petite, rounded and proud, seemingly a perfect handful with large nipples and dark dusky areolae dimpled with arousal. I stared until she took my hand and guided it to one.

When I fondled it gently, feeling its sensual heft, its weight, and carefully thumbed her nipple, Mom moaned. My erection was raging, stiff and throbbing. It felt like I hadn't cum at all.

"Come, David," she whispered, her hand tugging me, legs parting. "I need you. I want you, honey."

Mom urged me to move over her and settle between her legs, her knees rising to cradle my hips. She looked amazingly sexy, small full breasts, slender shapely body, loving sky-blue eyes encouraging me; so familiar yet so new. She reached down between our bodies and gently took my erection, tugging, urging me forward as I held myself up off her body on straight arms, almost afraid to lay on her.

I glanced down and shuddered at the sight of my erection nearing Mom's pussy, her curly pubic bush thick, silky and trimmed, a dark blond. I watched my erection nestle to her, felt her heat as she gently swiped the tip up and down, pressing in, pressing in, labia touching me. Oh God. My arms started trembling. Mom's soft labia parted, heat mushrooming over my crown as she led me to her entrance.

Lodged at heaven's gate, Mom held my hips and smiled. "Lay down on me," she said, tugging. And as I did, as my chest touched her breasts, my erection slipped into her pussy effortlessly, sliding smoothly, deeply into a snug embrace, a warm welcoming velvet glove, pressing ever deeper. Mom smiled at me and guided my head to rest next to hers, taking my full weight, arms hugging me, my erection buried deep, her pubic hair pressed to my groin.

She clenched. I groaned.

"God, baby, you're so big. You feel good," she whispered. Her hands caressed my back lovingly. She tilted her pelvis up pressing me deeper, my tip touching her end. She clenched again, her body trembling slightly under me.

I moaned and partially withdrew, her pussy gripping me. Mom's legs curled around my thighs, heels tugging me back and I stroked into her. Jesus she was so snug, so sexy. I couldn't believe I was actually making love with Mom! I was having sex with Mom! And God it was exciting, arousing, the most erotic experience I'd had.

Youth and inexperience charged back at me. The urge was too much. Mom's pussy felt too good. I started stroking in, pulling out, fucking Mom slowly but firmly, the feel of my cock sinking into her too good. Her heels guided my rhythm, her arms held me tight, her whispers of encouragement, "So good, baby," driving my lust.

'Jesus Christ, Mom and I are fucking and I love it!' played through my mind in an endless chant, withdrawing and pressing into her seductive moist warmth. We moved together, moved harder, Mom undulating against me. I began to lose control, thrusting into her, her silken pussy massaging me with each beautiful stroke. We fucked more urgently, faster, need building.

Mom drove me nuts whispering and encouraging, "Yes, baby, harder, like that, so good, you're so good," her arms hugging me.

Perspiration broke out between us. Reaching down I gripped sexy buttocks, holding her, pulling at her, thrusting. I started slamming into Mom, groins slapping together, shoving my erection deep into her, slippery warm velvet gripping me.

Mom jerked and grunted. "Uh! Yes, David. Again!"

I slammed into her, fucking Mom hard, dizzy with need, and suddenly Mom arched, her body twitched, her pussy clamped down on me. "Yesssss," she groaned holding me tight, her body tensing and trembling.

That was it. I growled and thrust hard, hard. "God, cumming Mom," I managed to gasp as my erection swelled painfully. Holding her sexy buttocks, buried deep in her clenching pussy I exploded, semen jetting out into her. "Oh Jesus!"

I pulled back and shoved, erection swelling, semen exploding. "Jesus, cumming Mom!" My orgasm erupted. I stared stroking into her, swelling spurting, pleasure crashing through me. Mom's pussy gripped and clenched as she writhed under me. I came hard, spurting, thrusting, spurting, cumming desperately, cumming deep in Mom's pussy, pleasure drowning me.

Eventually my heart slowed. Eventually Mom's pussy expelled my flaccid penis, her hands stroking my sweaty back. Eventually, with her encouragement, I slipped off her body to lay next to her. Mom cuddled me.

"You were wonderful, David," she whispered to me as sleep crept in. "Wonderful."

Smiling to myself at memories of that first time with Mom, how utterly erotic and exciting I'd found incest to be, I turned the TV off and picked up the remains of the Pizza and empty glasses, collecting Lucy's crumbs from the couch. Dropping everything in the kitchen to be cleaned tomorrow, I appreciated my good fortune.

Mom and I had had a very erotic Christmas that year. She was the first woman I experienced the sixty-nine position with from start to a raging finish. She showed me an inventive and mischievous sexual side, seemingly as insatiable as mine. But when we returned to Boston University it all stopped as if by mutual agreement.

The next year I met Susan, fell in love, and two years later we were married. We moved out to Northern California working for an Internet company after I graduated. Seven years later Susan gave birth to my angel, Lucy. Motherhood hadn't favored Susan. Her libido ebbed, her motherly instincts were weak and she began to feel trapped at home despite its size. She blamed me, especially with the long, long hours I was putting in. Perhaps she was right.

I consulted Mom frequently and, in a particularly rough spot in my marriage, I went to visit her in Boston. After sharing two bottles of wine Mom and I rekindled our physical relationship. It felt natural and perfect to go to bed together. Mom felt perfect in my arms. There were no regrets, no recriminations. We loved each other. Our physical relationship continued on-and-off; we lived in different cities. Yet inevitably we'd come together at some point, as if we were in orbit, our paths meeting, naturally resuming a physical, incestuous relationship that seemed to excite both of us and harm no one.

Susan finally divorced me when Lucy was four years old. It coincided with Mom taking early retirement and finally agreeing to live with us in the small cottage. Perhaps a mother-in-law so near was the last straw for Susan.

Heading to my bedroom I smiled to myself. I honestly didn't miss Susan. Mom still dropped in for a sexy romp in bed every so often which took care of my needs; I never asked her. And I had a beautiful daughter who was the light of my life. Yeah, life was fine, I thought.

"GRAN?" LUCY SAID AS she sat at the kitchen table.

"Yes?"

"How do I get Dad to love me?"

BETTY STUDIED LUCY, EATING a granola bar, eyes staring at her in earnest. "He does love you, sweetheart. You know he loves you."

"But how do I get him to love me like he loves you?"

Betty smiled. "Lucy, honey, your dad loves you much more than he loves me. Why all these questions?"

"I want him to love me the same. You know, the same way he does with you some mornings."

Echoing silence descended as Betty gathered her wits, hid her shock, and tried to recover some poise. She put her tea cup down carefully but it still rattled slightly against the saucer. Lucy knew! How awkward. Betty mentally shook herself. She should have known Lucy would discover it eventually. She was a remarkably intelligent little girl.

"Well I'm not sure you can. It's wrong for you to love your father that way."

"Why?" Lucy asked, tilting her head slightly. "You're his mom and you love him that way."

Betty paused, impressed with Lucy's logic. Hmm. Perhaps another approach was needed.

"You're right, Lucy. But we're adults. You're too young for that type of love."

"Why? How do you know I'm too young?"

"Sweetheart, you're nine years old . . ."

"Almost ten!" Lucy interjected.

Betty smiled. "Yes, almost ten, and a very pretty and very smart almost ten, too. But what I meant was you're too small to do what you want to do with your dad."

"How do you know?"

"You haven't even hit puberty, honey. Everyone knows . . ." Betty paused.

She sat quietly for a moment, studying Lucy, seeing the determination in her marvelous sky-blue eyes, eyes that shone with conviction. Was Lucy really any different than her? Was Lucy seeking an incestuous relationship with her father really that wrong?

In and of itself, Betty couldn't find fault given her own relationship with David. But she was mature, a grown woman, and David had been an adult when it started. Lucy was nine. That was entirely different.

Why? Would it make a difference if Lucy was post-pubescent? Eleven? Thirteen? Fifteen? What was the difference? Did love change after pubescence? No. It was the physical aspect. Betty nodded to herself as she decided it was a physical barrier. Nine-year-old girls were physically incapable of intercourse with an adult.

She opened her mouth to explain it to Lucy when a memory percolated up; an eight-year-old girl, Susan, adamantly claiming in court that she'd wanted to have sex with her father as he was prosecuted for sexually molesting his daughter. Another memory came, her life-long friend Lucinda claiming to have lost her virginity at ten and a half to a fifteen-year-old boy. Did that mean Lucy would be physically capable of having sexual intercourse without physically being hurt?

"Why, Lucy?" she asked gently. "Why do you want your dad to love you like that?"

"Cuz, I love him. And I decided it would be my Father's Day present! He'd like it, wouldn't he?"

"I don't know. Would you?"

"Yuh-huh!" Lucy nodded enthusiastically. A blush appeared. "I pretend it's Dad in bed with me when I, um, you know, um, diddle myself."

Betty studied the bright shine in Lucy's eyes and the radiant smile on her pretty face. Would David like it? Would David ever consider a physical relationship with his daughter? Probably, Betty thought, but only when Lucy was an adult, not when she was nine. That created problems. There was a world of hurt coming for Lucy if she tried anything.

Betty tried to picture David loving his daughter, imagining how they'd cuddle and kiss, touch and caress, the gentleness of David evident in how he'd hold his little girl, loving her. Somehow she found the image intensely arousing, sweet, quite beautiful, in fact.

She pictured the adoring expression he always got when he'd watch Lucy, how his eyes were constantly drawn to her as if addicted to her, and the way the corners of his mouth would curl slightly. She smiled as she remembered how David would let Lucy get away with murder, his pleasure at being manipulated by his smart daughter. She saw deep love in him. Was it deep enough? Was it a love strong enough to give Lucy what she wanted?

"Are you sure it's what you want, sweetheart?" she asked Lucy.

"Yup," Lucy replied then, after a pause, added, "Does it feel as good as it looks?"

"Well, yes. Very good, actually." Betty smiled and took a sip of her tea, now cold. "Okay, Lucy. Here's what you need to do." Rising to get a new cup of tea, her mind reviewing what she knew about David, what aroused him, how to excite him, she started talking to Lucy, explaining and smiling at Lucy's giggles, liking how her eyes grew big at some of the things she learned.

As Betty counseled Lucy, she decided she couldn't risk Lucy being turned down. The hurt to her granddaughter would be more than she could bear. Another idea formed.

I WAS SURPRISED WHEN Mom came into the den, holding a glass of white wine in one hand, a bottle in the other.

"What's up, Mom? No date on a Saturday night?" I asked, smiling.

She returned my smile. "More wine?" she offered, extending the bottle.

"Thanks." I held out the glass letting her refill it.

Mom settled next to me in comfortable silence. The news eventually came to an end. She rested her hand on my thigh and took a sip of wine.

"We should talk, David," she said softly.

"Sure. What about?" It wasn't unusual for us to have conversations, some quite intimate. They didn't embarrass me at all. Other times we'd talk about anything and everything. But when Mom said "we should talk" I knew there was a purpose in mind, an ulterior motive.

"About Lucy," she said.

My heart tripped. "What about her. She's all right isn't she? Has she said something? Is there a problem? She seemed fine tonight. I didn't . . ."

Mom chuckled. "Stop, David. Lucy's fine." She gave me a gentle squeeze on my thigh and took another sip of wine.

"I know how much you love her and wouldn't want her hurt . . ." Mom started.

"Mom, if there's something . . ."

"Shut up, David," she interrupted gently yet firmly with a smile. "Just listen for a moment, would you?" Waiting for me to nod, she continued. "Lucy's growing up. She's a remarkably intelligent girl."

"I know," I said with a smile of pride. "Just like me."

Mom laughed. "No. How many times do I have to tell you, she's like me; smart and beautiful."

I didn't bother arguing. Mom had told me more times than I could count that I was lucky Lucy didn't take after me. I put my arm over Mom's shoulder and pulled her close, comfortable, companionable, reassuring to me. Holding out my glass Mom refilled it before topping up her own. She slipped her shoes off and rested stocking-clad feet on the coffee table, settling against me.

"As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Lucy is growing up. I had an interesting chat with her last Wednesday after school. You know Lucy adores you, don't you?"

I nodded. The feeling was mutual.

Mom took a sip of wine and continued. "It seems she saw me slipping into your bedroom a few weeks ago and . . ."

I didn't hear anything else, my heart pounding, blood roaring in my ears. "You told her we were just talking, didn't you Mom?" I asked suddenly, urgently.

She chuckled, her body shaking with amusement.

"Lucy would never have believed me if I had. It seems seeing us making love precluded any claim that we were talking."

"Jesus, Mom! What . . ."

"David," she interrupted me again, giving me a gentle slap on my thigh, "will you kindly shut up so I can say more than a few words at a time?" She waited.

I shut up.

"Thank you. Now, I was as surprised as you are when she told me. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

I sat in shocked silence as Mom explained that Lucy, far from being disgusted and disillusioned at her father having sex with her Grandmother, wanted to make love with me too, have sex with me! Her father! I was even surprised at Mom. She calmly explained how Lucy wanted to make love with me as a Father's Day present! Mom even seemed approving!

Disbelief rapidly gave way to amazement at my nine-year-old's apparent determination to show me how much she loved me. Mom calmly rationalized that, if she and I could have an incestuous relationship, why would having one with my daughter be any different?

"Basically it's the same, David. Mother-son, father-daughter; there's no real difference. If one is acceptable, the other must be too."

And it was . . . until I thought about the age issue. No, it wasn't. It wasn't anything like the same. "I can't Mom. Lucy's too young. She hasn't even gone through puberty. She's too young and . . . well, she's way too young." Despite loving Lucy with every fiber of my being, despite adoring her, despite her perfect coltish beauty in my eyes and her enthusiasm for life, Lucy was a child, my little girl. When she'd matured, however, I could easily picture myself making love with her. I found incest intensely attractive and the prospect of sex with Lucy as a young lady very, very appealing.

"Yes, well, David. I've been doing some research on that," Mom said with firmness. "It turns out her youth is not a physical barrier to intercourse. The medical journals I've studied suggest intercourse at nine years old can occur without physical damage if handled carefully. It has always been the mental damage that has been so harmful. Anyway, she's almost ten years old."

"But, Mom . . ."

Mom continued as if I hadn't started objecting. "I happen to know Lucy loves you. Actually, she worships you and would do anything to please you. So I assumed she was thinking of sex with you because she wanted to make her father happy. Perhaps, like me, she's noticed how you never seem to date other women."

Mom gave me her disapproving look at that. Then she smiled and continued.

"But I was wrong. I interrogated her, David. I challenged her and pressed. I could not shake her stubborn insistence that it was what she wanted. In fact, it seems since she observed us making love she's used some of those memories to pleasure herself to. She's quite besotted with you."

Mom rubbed my thigh gently, sipped her wine and continued. "I don't blame her, honey. Even I couldn't really resist you, as I've proven over the last two decades."

"But, Mom . . ."

"Oh grow up, David. If you don't trust your daughter's word, trust mine. Lucy is quite determined to give you the best Father's Day present she can think of and it excites her, too. She's so eager, you simply can't disappoint her. You just can't."

Suddenly I wondered what it might actually be like to make love to Lucy. Sex with my nine year old? No. She seemed too small, too young.

"I can't, Mom. I can't. It'll hurt too much."

"I was thinking about that as I did some research. It needn't hurt if she's relaxed and wants to make love with you. Just be gentle and considerate. You know, every time I imagined you making love with Lucy, having your daughter in your arms, loving her as you've loved me, I felt good; better than good. I found the idea rather stimulating to be honest.

"So give yourself some time to live with the idea. Father's Day is a week away." Mom patted my leg.

"In the meantime I've decided to help her. She was worried you might not want her, or not see her as sexy and attractive enough. She's determined but worried. I promised her I'd help her seduce you, sort of lower your resistance, gradually get you interested in her, see her as the sexy, pretty girl she is. I've told her about some of the things you find sexy, what turns you on and how to slowly seduce you to the point where you'll want to make love with your own daughter. What I need is for you to promise you'll go along with it, play along. I can't have you react badly and inadvertently hurt Lucy. I'm sure you don't want to hurt her, do you?"

"Of course not, Mom. But . . . I'm not sure I can see past her being so young. If only she was older."

Mom turned my face to her. She smiled the soft gentle smile I'd grown to love over the years, warm, confident, reassuring. "Trust me, David. Let yourself relax and see, okay?"

I tossed and turned that night, part of me intrigued part of me scared.

LUCY CRIED OUT IN pain as the dildo pressed into her pussy just as her climax hit, her body jerking. She let it go and grasped her pussy squeezing, pain mixing with pleasure. She moaned and trembled through her orgasm until, exhausted, she rolled onto her side, legs curling up.

A few minutes later she opened her eyes and sat up, bending, spreading her knees and peering at her sore pussy, expecting to see lots of blood. She was surprised when all she saw was a small trickle. Reaching for Kleenex she wiped carefully, spreading her slit to clean herself.

A grin appeared when she probed with her finger, feeling only a slight wince of pain before the tip slipped inside. Good. Done it!

She pulled her panties on stuffing more kleenex into them in case she leaked more blood, pulled the covers up and reached out for Paddington Bear, hugging him.

"I did it, Paddington," she whispered. Was Dad really bigger than the dildo?

Gran had said the dildo was small when she gave it to her, "But Lucy, honey, if this is too much for you, you really mustn't try with your father. It would hurt too much and you know your dad would never do anything that would hurt you."

Lucy smiled. We'll see, Gran.

SITTING AT THE KITCHEN table with a mug of coffee while dinner roasted in the oven, I was lost in thought as the sound of Lucy taking a shower faintly filtered through to me. For once I wasn't interested in the spectacular view of the Pacific Ocean as it undulated sinuously, calm waves hypnotically moving across at an angle to wash onto the pebble beach with an unheard thump and hiss.

The last gasp of a red sun sinking below the horizon outlined oil tankers as they headed south towards Los Angeles, distance making the hulking ships appear toy-like.

A mouthwatering aroma of chicken, lemon and thyme scented our large kitchen. Potatoes still needed to be washed. Yet I sat preoccupied, mind busy.

I didn't know what Mom had told Lucy but whatever it was, for the last few days it was making life difficult. I adored my daughter, but until recently I'd never seen her as sexy. Lucy was storming my hesitation with snuggles, hugs, "Love you, Dad," and sky-blue eyes that looked at me in a way that made me ache.

She was proving to be a remarkable little temptress, too. Somehow she found a way to seem totally innocent as she'd sit at the kitchen table, her little skirt too short and cotton panties winking at me as slender legs moved. When I looked at her face she was talking a mile a minute, seemingly unaware of the fascinating show she was putting on, her hands emphasizing her every comment.

She seemed to find shorts that were two years too small on her, powder blue terry things, stretched so tight her little pubis was starkly outlined, camel toe and all. She'd become a klutz, too, constantly dropping things, bending and picking things up, "Oops," and inevitably, cotton panties stretched over a tiny compact bum would appear, some white, some with leaping blue dolphins on them, one pair lemon yellow.

Not once did she give any indication she was doing it on purpose.

I felt my love for Lucy growing and actually enjoyed the gentle arousal she was successfully achieving. I was very careful not to let her know, though. I'd never have believed I could find a nine-year-old alluring but over the past few days Lucy was proving me wrong; very wrong.

"Dad!"

"Yeah?" I yelled.

"I forgot a towel. Can you get me one?"

"Sure. Hold on," I yelled back, smiling at her ruse. I grabbed a bath towel from the hall linen closet and opened the bathroom door, fully expecting Lucy to be standing stark naked with a cheeky grin on her face, but no.

Lucy was naked. But she had her arm across her chest as if protecting breasts she didn't have, her legs closed and a hand covering her pussy, hair limp and wet, shivering, big eyes staring at me. I wrapped the huge towel around her.

"Sorry, Dad. I forgot," she said as I rubbed her back.

"That's okay, honey," I reassured her before leaving.

I returned to the kitchen, an erection forming. Her modesty was intensely attractive, far more attractive than seeing her naked, I thought. It actually had me wondering what those places she'd shielded from view might actually look like. I actually wondered what a young prepubescent pubis would look like, never having seen one. Lucy's demure pose with so much bare skin showing on a reed thin little body was very, very attractive. Damn. How about that! I dumped my mug of coffee and found a Corona.

In the bathroom Lucy dried herself, her mind preoccupied. Dad's eyes had opened so wide when he saw her. She giggled. Gran had been right!

"Lucy, what you need to remember is, just stripping and letting your dad see you naked won't work," Gran had advised as they sat at the kitchen table after school.

"Really? Why not?"

"It's about imagination, sweetheart. The mind is a powerful thing. If you can get your father wondering about you, wondering what you might look like naked, you'll almost be there. Don't let him see. Make him imagine. It's almost always sexier to guys."

LUCY DASHED TO HER bedroom grinning. That look in Dad's eyes was his imagination working. Good. Now. Rustling through her dresser she found what she was looking for, dressed and checked herself before brushing her damp hair. Perfect.

Dinner was yummy. But she was impatient, rushing through it. "Let's watch TV, Dad," she said, grabbing his hand.

I LAY IN BED that night, a strong erection crying out for attention, replaying it over and over. Groaning, I gripped the shaft and stroked, aching, needing release.

Lucy had led me to the couch, flipped channels to a sitcom and snuggled to my side. I'd relaxed, letting her warmth and clean soapy scent suffuse through me. At one point she'd rolled to her side away from me, grabbing a cushion to rest her head. In her nightshirt, she stretched out, her feet finding my lap.

I didn't think as I held them, massaging small feet gently, caressing a bare leg, my attention on the TV.

"Can you cut them, Dad?"

"Hmm? Cut what?" I asked.

Little toes wiggled in my hands. She smiled. "My toenails. Will you cut them?"

I glanced down and inspected her tiny toes. She really needed the nails trimmed. It wasn't another ruse.

"Sure. Be right back," I said, lifting her feet from my lap. I returned with nail clippers and Lucy rolled onto her back, face turned to the TV and put her feet back in my lap.

For the next few minutes I trimmed tiny toes. I actually liked it. How weird was that? But crazy or not, I enjoyed clipping Lucy's nails. Her toes were remarkably cute.

"All done," I advised, turning to smile at her.

She grinned. "Thanks, Dad," and lifted one leg, bending it to inspect her toes.

I couldn't help my reaction. As her leg rose her nightshirt slipped up and I was gifted with the sight of her little pussy pressed against soft white cotton, a camel toe outlining her small cleft and cotton wedged into a bum crack below exposing one little cheek. As her leg rose higher her pussy seemed to pooch out, full, plump, and remarkably sexy.

I couldn't help my reaction. An erection formed as I studied the sexy shape of her pubis and marveled at how excitingly small and short her cleft was. Her exposed cheek looked so smooth, so soft and sexy. And I mentally groaned when she lifted her small bum off the couch to pull cotton panties out of her butt crack, giving me a flash of what looked like smooth skin under a gusset. Her leg descended, both feet returning to my lap. She rearranged her nightshirt depriving me of the suddenly sexy view. I was sure she would feel my erection with her feet. To avoid it I held them, caressing them gently.

Lucy became involved with the TV show again. I didn't. Had she set this up? Did she know her panties were that tight? Did she know she'd give me a peek like that? What would it feel like to slip my finger into the leg band of her panties and fix the wedgie? Now more than ever I wondered what my daughter's nine-year-old pussy would look like.

In bed, I groaned and imagined gently pulling those panties aside to reveal her little pussy in all its naked glory. I imagined seeing my little girl's clit gently coddled by plump labia.

As I imagined kissing my child's pussy, tasting her, feeling her soft young skin with my lips, I came, semen spurting onto my stomach. I gripped my erection, heaved and exploded, pleasure permeating my body as semen jetted out, wanting to kiss her, touch her, fondle my little girl. I came hard to visions of Lucy naked and smiling in pleasure at Daddy's touch. Moaning, I came hard, my reluctance melting away with each blissful spurt of cum, wanting Lucy, wanting Lucy.

My last thought as I drifted to sleep was how could I possibly last until Father's Day?

BETTY SMILED AT LUCY'S enthusiasm.

"I felt it Gran! Really, I did! Dad got a boner and all I did was show him my panties!"

"You didn't show more, did you?" Betty asked, taking a sip of tea. She felt Lucy's excitement herself, a tingling of pleasure, a hint of arousal, her nipples puckering slightly as they pressed to her bra. Vicariously living Lucy's slow tease, her gradual seduction of her father, and the pure thrill Lucy seemed to be experiencing as she did, coupled with her innocent joy, made Betty respond, arousal build. Maybe she'd need to visit David tonight; ease her growing need.

"I didn't show more, just my bum like you said." Lucy giggled. "Gran, you should have seen Dad's eyes when I pulled my panties out of my bum crack!"

"I wish I had," Betty replied, smiling and trying to imagine. "Now, don't forget tonight."

Betty crossed her arms, surreptitiously squeezing her breasts. It only made them ache more.

ON MY ELBOWS, LOOKING down at Mom as I lay between her legs, her knees bent, thighs gripping my hips, my erection snuggly buried to the hilt inside her, throbbing and aching, I grinned.

"Did you set her up for that?" I asked.

"Set her up for what?"

I'd been watching television, enjoying the partial erection caused by Lucy's giggles, snuggles and her bright unrestrained laughter as she sat at my side, her eyes glued to a late viewing of Friends. She'd grabbed my hand and played with it absentmindedly as she watched TV. When the news started, Lucy had scrambled up and left, "Night, Dad."

Five minutes later, Lucy came tearing into the den, wearing a short little white satin-like camisole with spaghetti straps and matching bikini panties that seemed to have a lace front panel and narrow elastic strips connecting the front to the back.

Her eyes sparkled. She had a big, big smile. "Forgot to kiss you goodnight, Dad!" she exclaimed as she raced towards me.

Before I knew it I had a lively slender daughter in my lap, her arms around my neck and, with a twinkle, she kissed my cheek, her lips lingering slightly as she pressed them to me.

"Love ya, Dad," she said, scrambling off my lap and racing back out, little buttocks busily twitching.

I'd sat in stunned silence, an erection forming as I let images register. I thought I'd caught a glimpse of a dimple where her cleft formed on her sexy little mound, partially obscured by a lacy pattern. I'd definitely seen the prominence of her labia as, cosseted by a double gusset, they formed a seductive rounded bulk in the small gap between very slender thighs. I very definitely felt a tiny satiny covered bum in my hand as I hugged her, my hand spanning both sweet little buttocks.

And, as she dashed from the room wearing a skimpy, lacy piece of nothingness, I saw the sexiest little bum crack formed by two gorgeous little buttocks, one beautifully shaped cheek exposed, satin panties wedged deep.

I'd sat with a hard erection straining in jeans replaying each image, floored at how utterly sexy and desirable Lucy was becoming.

Mom chuckled as I explained it all, squeezing my erection deliciously. Her sneaky smile of satisfaction answered my accusation, too.

"Did she look good?" Mom asked, her hand slowly playing with my chest hair. "Oh, I guess she did," she added with a smile when my erection swelled inside her snug pussy.

I grinned. "Yeah, she was cute. I have to admit I liked the panties. Did you pick them?"

I groaned when Mom clenched. I could still picture how small yet plump Lucy's pussy was as it mounded against her panties.

"I did. I knew you'd like them."

"How?" I asked, withdrawing my erection very slightly and sliding back, swelling inside her moist pussy, an ache developing. I loved Mom's velvety pussy.

"David, honey, you've had a panty fetish all your life. Do you really think I never noticed my panties missing from the dresser drawer when you were going through puberty?"

I grinned. "So you knew and didn't say anything?"

Mom smiled. She clenched her pussy making me swell in response, her hands caressing my back. "Of course not. I didn't want to embarrass you. I'd just recover them from your room. You did make a mess of them, though," she added with a chuckle that gripped my erection. Her arms wrapped around me, pelvis curling to push her pussy against me, forcing my erection deep. "Enough talk, David," she murmured, pulling me down on her.

Reaching down, I held Mom's buttocks, slipping my erection out of her sexy snug embrace, reversing and sliding in, liquid velvet gripping my shaft. When my groin bumped against Mom's pussy, stimulating her clit, she sighed and started moving, undulating, her ass flexing.

We started fucking slowly, languidly, enjoying each delicious penetration, deep, deep. I held her sexy buttocks, fucking her slowly, lazily, long, long strokes, gently nudging into her clitoris on every thrust.

Mom curled up at me, her legs rising to wrap around my waist. "Faster, honey," she whispered. "Did you want to feel inside your daughter's panties when you saw them?"

I groaned. Yes, I did. I fucked Mom harder, plunging into her, tugging her buttocks to me, each thrust touching her end. Silence was broken by slapping sounds. The scent of sex permeated the air.

"Did her little bum look nice, David? Can you imagine how it would feel?" Mom whispered. "I wonder what it would be like to slowly take her panties off and see what's hidden underneath."

"Oh God Mom. Stop," I begged, fucking harder, my erection aching and straining at the image of slipping my little girl's sexy panties down slender, young legs. Jesus, how could it turn me on so much?

"Gooood. Harder, David," she whispered, her legs tightening around my waist, ankles locked, her arms pulling at me. "I'd love to see you kiss Lucy's little bum and see her naked in your arms. Would you let me watch? Lucy's been dreaming of making love with you, honey. She's very excited."

"Mom! Gonna cum!"

"Cum, baby, cum."

I groaned, fucked harder, faster, pressure building, building. Everything exploded, pleasure thrashed me, semen exploded from my straining erection, a huge spurt jetting deep into Mom's snug pussy. I growled and shoved again, spurting hard, ejaculating, bliss tearing at me, a picture of me holding Lucy, naked and petite against me, holding her slender little body to me, my erection pressed against her tummy. I roared and thrust, spurting deep into Mom, fucking her hard, cumming, cumming desperately, swelling, aching, spurting, God cumming so hard.

Exhausted, I collapsed and still I had a mental image locked in my mind. Sleep overcame me. I didn't feel Mom leave my bed.

IN HER BED, LUCY rolled and buried her face into her pillow, snorting as her climax stormed into her, a small finger stretching her little vagina, her other hand rubbing her aching clit. Hips hunched, legs squeezed, heart pounded. Cumming Daddy! Her little body jerked. She groaned, fingers thrumming, cumming Daddy, uh, cumming!

FOR THE FIRST TIME I sat at my desk at work unable to unravel the complex algorithm on my computer monitor and identify where it was flawed. I was actually beginning to believe I'd never make it to Father's Day, Saturday, two days away.

Between Mom driving me nuts with her suggestive commentary, the excruciatingly arousing thought that Mom actually wanted to observe me making love with Lucy, and Lucy's stunning expertise at arousing me while projecting pure sweet sexy innocence, I was ready to explode. I'd never faced such a challenge.

Not since I was a teen had I suffered from so many recurring erections and been so distracted. I couldn't get any of it out of mind. It was as if I was slipping down a slope, Lucy waiting for me at the bottom, but the slope was never ending, Mom behind me telling me to be patient. I'd long since forgotten my hesitation over Lucy's age. Nine seemed almost perfect to me, or at least to my libido.

Anticipation was agony. For the first time I'd actually begged Mom to join me in bed later that night and almost cried when she smiled and told me she couldn't. "I have plans for tonight, Dear," she'd said, caressing my cheek.

Shit!

Why did I have to wait for Father's Day? What was so special about it anyway? It was just a random date selected by greeting card makers to ply their goods, wasn't it? And I couldn't even tell Lucy; Mom had made me promise to let Lucy do her thing and not let on I was aware of her intent; not ruin her surprise. It was agony! Punishment!

I was grumpy when I got home. Mom's laughter didn't help and I tried my best to ignore Lucy, unsuccessfully.

That night I grabbed a couple of pillows, hugged them and swore at Mom, Lucy, the world, and satin-like lingerie that should never have been made in such small sizes.

One more day. Would I survive?

An intensely attractive aroma filled my lungs. I felt a gentle loving kiss on my cheek, soft lips pressing. A small bundle wormed her way between my arms and snuggled against me. I smiled to myself, eyes closed.

The beautiful bundle wiggled in my arms. "Wake up, Dad. It's Father's Day."

I grumped, "No it isn't."

The bundle giggled. "Yes it is."

Keeping my eyes closed, I grumped again despite my heart singing. "It can't be. Where are my eggs and beer?"

A seductive little girl, intoxicating me with her sexy, sleepy, intensely attractive aroma, giggled and wiggled in amusement. "Daaaaad."

"And where is my French toast? And apple pie and ice cream, huh?" I grumped, hugging her to me a bit tighter, an erection forming. She felt perfect in my arms, perfect.

"I didn't make any," she giggled, pressing her face into my chest.

God she felt sexy in my arms as she nestled. My heart ached. The love I felt was going to kill me, the desire drive me mad.

"Then it's not Father's Day," I stated, gently caressing her small back, feeling satiny softness, an image popping to mind, my erection strengthening.

"It is, too," she claimed, slightly louder. "Anyway, that's not your Father's Day present."

"Then what is?" I asked. Sliding my hand down over her sexy little rump, I pinched her lightly.

"Ow! Hey!" Reaching behind her she tugged my hand off her bum.

Pulling my hand out of hers, I groped her sweet little bum again. I couldn't get over how arousing it was, tiny and compact, my hand spanning both firm youthful buttocks. Her giggle struck me in my heart, making me ache, my love for her a physical weight in my chest.

"Don't pinch, Dad," she said softly, suddenly all cuddles.

"Why?"

"Cuz." And, in a very soft voice, Lucy added, "You're hurting your present."

God, I wanted to cry at her sweetness, my child, my little girl. I wanted to yell out loud to the world, "Look, this is my little girl and she's mine, all mine!" I still hadn't opened my eyes. My erection was hard, throbbing and trapped between my legs needing to be released. And yet, this small interplay, knowing what she really wanted to give me, somehow I wanted it to go on, to never stop; just live on the cusp of intimacy, the edge of extreme arousal, the promise of ecstasy so exciting.

I asked softly, "Your bum is my Father's Day gift? Your bum? What sort of gift is that, honey?"

Lucy cuddled into me, wriggled slightly, sighed, breath expelling warm against my bare chest. "No, Dad. I'm your present."

Finally I opened my eyes looking down. Two sky-blue eyes sparkled as Lucy peered up at me. My chest constricted, breathing difficult. Lucy was so pretty, so beautiful. I knew I'd never loved anyone so intensely. No one in this world could affect me so.

"You've always been a gift, Lucy," I said.

Her eyes studied me carefully. "No, Dad. I'm your present. You have to unwrap me!" She paused. "And kiss me, too!" she added with a grin.

I kissed her crown.

"Daaaad!" A frown of frustration appeared, so damned cute. "Not my head, silly."

"So sorry, honey. What was I thinking of?" I took her hand, drew it to my mouth and kissed it. "There."

Lucy giggled. "No, you goof! Kiss me properly!"

I was taking far too much pleasure in this little game. "How?" I asked.

A cute frown knitted her brows. "On my lips."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

Gorgeous, simply gorgeous. "Okay. I'll try."

Nothing in my vivid imagination had prepared me for the thrill and pleasure I felt when I gently kissed my little girl's lips, soft and so small. It was deeply pleasing and intensely erotic. And when she pressed her mouth to mine, lips closed, I couldn't resist.

Holding her compact little bum again, I touched her lips with my tongue. My erection strained.

Lucy's eyes popped open wide when she felt me. She grinned while kissing me, sky-blue eyes twinkling, and a small moist tongue touched mine.

"Better," she said when the kiss ended.

"Better? Only better?" I asked in mock astonishment.

Lucy grinned. "Maybe if you try again?"

Her grin broadened when I grumbled, "Hmmm. Okay. I'll try."

I kissed her again, closed-mouthed, sexy, sexy. Suddenly her arm reached up and pulled me harder against her small mouth, a little tongue pressing against my lips. I let her tongue in sucking it gently. My erection popped out from between my legs to slide up and rest between us. Lucy's eyes widened in surprise. She broke the kiss and glanced down.

"Is that your . . .?" she asked without completing the question.

"My what?"

"Your thing."

Trying not to laugh was hard. "My thing?"

Lucy blushed but contrary to the blush, pressed herself against me trapping my erection against her tummy. "Your penis, Dad. Is that your penis?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Can I feel it?"

When I nodded with an encouraging smile Lucy pulled back slightly and a hand fished down. I managed not to moan when her small hand gripped my shaft, squeezing very cautiously in exploration.

"It's so big, Dad. Hard, too." She gave it another quick squeeze and let go, pulling herself out of my arms and rolling onto her back, sky-blue eyes staring at me. "You have to unwrap me now," she ordered.

Moving up onto my elbow I drew the quilt down. My heart thumped heavily as I studied my little girl. She was wearing the same short satin-like camisole but now I noticed her little nipples actually poked up slightly; the very first sign of pubescence and intensely arousing.

She was reed thin, almost curve-less except for the swell of her bottom and thighs as they pressed to the mattress. Her knees were knobby. The growth spurt she was going through was all vertical. But the growth spurt had another effect. Lucy had prominent hip bones and a mons at her crotch that mounded unbelievably high, amazingly high, full and seductive as it pressed against lacy white panties.

I ached at the sight. Her slenderness only emphasized how sexy her pussy was. I couldn't resist its allure. Bending over my little girl I kissed her mound, pressing my lips into the sexy panty-covered pad. It yielded to my lips and as her hands gently touched my head I detected a different aroma.

Inhaling deeply I drew the mysterious aroma in. Recognition made my body shake, my hands tremble. The delicate, heady aroma was my little girl's arousal, my nine-year-olds' arousal! It was light but intense, a sweet muskiness that hit a part of my brain responsible for restraint. Any hesitation that might have been left was shattered. I wanted my daughter. I wanted to make love with her. Nothing in this world was as important, as exciting, as right.

Kissing her pouty little pussy mound I caressed slender legs, feeling soft immature body hair. I loved how slim her legs were. I loved how soft the skin on the inside of her thigh was. I suddenly found her delicate body intensely arousing.

I ached. My erection strained, precum oozing. Reluctantly I left her mons and moved up, bending to lightly kiss first one tiny mounded nipple then the next, Lucy's fingers combing through my hair. Moving up further I kissed her chin, smiled into her eyes and, as she smiled in response, I kissed her, pressing against soft little lips.

The moan was mine. Lucy opened her mouth for me letting my tongue in. She sucked it like I had hers and I felt it to the tip of my toes. When the kiss ended Lucy smiled, eyes twinkling at me. She lifted her arms over her head.

"You have to unwrap me, Dad," she said softly.

Yes. I had to. I needed to. God how I needed to. So intent at the prospect of revealing my little girl's prepubescent body I didn't hear the bedroom door open. I didn't notice Mom enter quietly or see her hold her finger to her lips telling Lucy to keep quiet. I only saw Lucy's eyes flicker and a smile dawn on her sweet face.

Carefully I slipped her camisole up, my sight riveted on her stomach, then her ribs, and as I pulled her camisole off I stared at Lucy's areolae, tiny light-pink circles slightly mounded on her small chest. Staring, I rubbed one lightly with my thumb pad and watched as her tiny, tiny nipple hardened. My erection strained. Jesus, Lucy was so sexy and I hadn't even taken her panties off!

Leaning over her I smiled reassuringly and kissed her tiny areola, sucking softly and nibbling the little protrusion with my lips. Lucy squirmed, her hands returning to my head and pulling my mouth against her nipple.

"Beautiful, Lucy," I murmured, glancing at her sparkling eyes and small smile before paying tribute to the other. She squirmed again, a slight roll of her body accompanied by a murmur, a little "mmm."

My tongue emerged to caress her hard little nipple. My hand stroked down her body, across her navel feeling her silky soft naked skin before sliding over panties. I ached, cock throbbing and swelling when I once again felt the remarkable upsweep of Lucy's little pudendum cosseted by sexy panties. To a racing heart I measured my little girl's nine-year-old pussy; petite, three fingers wide, plump and sexy, full between her parted thighs.

I detected warmth with my fingers and shuddered as I imagined it to be my little girl's moist arousal dampening her panties. Imagining Lucy, such a young girl, being damp, being aroused, made me ache with desire.

Leaving her little nipple I moved up to kiss her. "Gorgeous, Lucy. You're so sexy, baby," I whispered softly.

Lucy smiled in delight at the compliment, her eyes twinkling. I bent and kissed her smile. Her arms reached up to hold onto my neck, her smile faded, eyes winked closed and she opened her mouth, moaning as I probed into her. French kissing Lucy was stunningly erotic. And it got better. Caressing my daughter's little pussy over her panties, squeezing and stroking her, Lucy responded hunching herself against my hand, her arms tightening around my neck.

I shivered as, exquisitely slowly, teasingly, I moved my hand up to her lower tummy, caressed down over a bony hip and the outside of a slender, soft thigh. At her knee I slipped my hand inside and caressed up along her silky thigh drawing my hand lightly over her pussy. She murmured into my mouth when I gently squeezed her plump little pubis.

Moving my hand higher to her soft little tummy I wormed fingertips under the waist of her panties. My erection oozed precum, straining, aching, desperately needing release. Nothing had prepared me for how sexy and arousing it would be to kiss my little girl while feeling her up inside her panties; nothing. But Lucy's sweet little pussy felt silky smooth, hairless, a rising mons I lusted for. The pads of my fingers felt the remarkable plumpness of her little pussy, rising high, filling her groin, a sexy mound that plunged down at the sides to meet slim thighs.

My hand actually shook when I felt Lucy's little cleft, seemingly tightly closed, a crease on her delectable mound. I followed the sexy crease down and broke my kiss suddenly. "Oh God, sweetheart," I gasped as Lucy's slippery moisture coated my finger.

Lucy's eyes popped open. "What, Dad?" she asked, gently curling her bum up and pressing her pussy against my hand.

"I . . . I . . ." and, before I could form an answer Lucy's sexy little labia oozed over my fingertip. Suddenly I had my finger at my daughter's tiny vagina, surrounded by moist, slippery arousal, hot and silky. My erection swelled dangerously. Not since I was a teen had I been so close to cumming from just touching a girl.

With a racing heart I took deep breaths under Lucy's watchful and questioning gaze. I withdrew my hand, sliding my fingertip up through her sexy, sexy cleft and almost climaxed when I felt her small clitoris.

"What, Daddy?" Lucy asked again as I withdrew my hand from her panties.

Hearing her call me Daddy hit something deeply buried inside me. I ached for her, my heart swelling.

Gently caressing her tummy I answered. "I don't think I've ever found anyone as sexy as you are, honey," I said. "I love you so much. I want you so much, too."

The smile that blossomed on my daughter's face hurt in my chest. She stared at me and the smile morphed into a grin. "You haven't unwrapped me, Daddy. Don't you want to?"

I grinned. "Yes I do. Rather a lot, actually." Turning serious I added, "Stop being so sexy. You're making this difficult."

She giggled as I rose to my knees and moved down the bed, pushing the thick quilt down and off the bed. At her feet as she lay quietly grinning at me, so cute, so pretty, I reached up for the waist of her sexy panties. Lucy's grin changed into a smile. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure and she raised her bum off the bed.

The effect was startling. My daughter's body was a beanpole, nary a curve on her from where I was kneeling. But as she raised her bum her pussy mounded into a magnificent peak pressing against the lacy front panel. The act of peeling those panties off was, in and of itself, an act of pure eroticism. First the back slipped over plump little buttocks. Then the front slid over her mons revealing a hairless mound of pure beauty. Lucy's cleft came into view as she lowered her bum to the bed and brought her legs up for me. Even with her legs together Lucy had a sensuous gap at her crotch and, making my heart race, a small clitoris cradled between lush, plump hairless labia, held like the precious jewel it was.

Lucy didn't see my expression of wonder and awe. Her eyes were locked on my erection as it thrust up from my groin, hard and leaking, bobbing as it pulsed with need.

Tossing her panties aside I gently parted my young daughter's legs. She let me, still riveted by the sight of my erection. I stared as her legs opened, knees bent and pressed to the bed. Lucy's pussy filled my vision, plump, labia slowly parting to reveal her long clitoral hood framed by sexy lips, her little cleft so short. Buttocks flared out below as they pressed to the mattress. But what had my chest aching was the glistening dark red below her clit, a moist smooth cleft protecting a dark shadow, the tiny, tiny entrance to my little girl's nine-year-old vagina.

Laying down between her slim legs, my erection pressing to the sheet, I first detected Lucy's sensual aroma, the scent of my daughter's arousal; lightly musky, heady, hugely attractive. It drew me in, a magnet pulling at me. Shuddering, I kissed my daughter's pussy gently, right on her short cleft, right on the bump of her clitoris.

Lucy twitched under my mouth. I let my tongue touch her cleft, silky soft, moist and warm. Gently I tasted my daughter's arousal and trembled, feeling dizzy at its perfection. Cupping two little buttocks I started eating my little girl, my cock swelling against the mattress.

LUCY LET HER HEAD fall back to the bed. Holding it up to watch Dad was too much. Sharp jabs of pleasure inundated her; Daddy kissing her pussy! She felt his hot breath and trembled at his kiss, so soft, so gentle, so loving; like nothing she'd ever felt. Then his tongue tickled her clit and her whole body flushed hot, heart racing. Her pussy clenched and a jab of pleasure went all the way up to her nipples.

She moaned quietly, suddenly so horny, hornier than she'd ever felt in her life. She wanted Daddy, needed Daddy. Inside she ached. It was almost painful. She needed release. Lucy felt her climax stir; a tenseness inside her, pressure, heaviness in her tummy. When Daddy's tongue probed her vagina she trembled, her hands gripping the sheet, eyes closing, so good Daddy, so good.

Then spontaneously, uncontrollably, she climaxed like a bomb exploding. Daddy sucking her clit set her off. She gasped, arched up, clutching the sheet, her heart straining. Pleasure crashed into her, pussy clenching. Another wave hit. She cried out arching her body again, muscles straining as Daddy sucked her clit. Lucy started grunting, body shaking and curling as her orgasm wracked her, muscles straining, pleasure punishing her. She grunted and thrashed, orgasm intensifying, cumming hard, cumming hard, too hard. Body ached, pussy hurt, cumming, cumming!

"Stop! Stop, Daddy!" she suddenly pleaded, twisting her body, hands pushing his head away from her pussy. Rolling onto her side, she curled up, still twitching, still cumming, body aching.

Lucy felt Daddy hug her gently from behind. She trembled, tears of pleasure leaking from closed eyes, heart racing. Slowly, gradually, calm descended, Daddy hugging her, Daddy hugging her. Fading tremors slowly passed, muscles eased. Slowly Lucy recovered from the hardest climax she'd ever experienced. She was exhausted, tired, so tired.

"Love you, Daddy," she murmured, holding his arms around her.

BETTY SAT IN THE armchair quietly, her panties soaking. She stopped caressing her breasts over her bathrobe. She'd never seen anything so sensual, so sexy. Seeing David loving his little girl, and seeing Lucy, so young, climaxing so hard, was unbelievably arousing. And watching David hug his naked little daughter so lovingly, holding her ever so gently as her climax ebbed, was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen by far.

Betty wished she was Lucy, held in her father's arms, naked and unconditionally loved and relaxed from a big cum. She wondered what it would feel like to be Lucy, envious of the experience her granddaughter had just had. She clenched her pussy as she thought about Lucy actually making love with David. What would it look like? The image of David having sex with Lucy, such a petite and young girl, made her gasp quietly and squeeze her thighs together. She had a strong urge to touch herself, needing sweet release. Instead she sat quietly waiting to see what might transpire.

LUCY STIRRED SLOWLY. THE urge to sleep was strong. But it was Father's Day. It was Daddy's day and so far all she'd done was get pleasure from Dad. It was supposed to be the other way around.

Sighing, wiggling slightly, she felt Daddy's erection pressed to her bum. It felt huge. It had looked huge, too, when he took her panties off. Lucy smiled and hugged his arms tighter, pressing back against his penis. She'd seen his look when he'd pulled her panties off. He'd seemed so excited, his sexy eyes open wide, shining, a look of . . . awe. She liked it. She liked letting Daddy see her pussy. It excited her.

Smiling, sleepiness fading, excitement returning, Lucy wondered if he would like her to kiss it; just like he kissed her pussy. She'd never considered that before but would he? Could she get it into her mouth? It was long, thick. Maybe it was too big. But she could kiss it!

Squirming, she turned in his arms twisting and rolling onto her back. "Daddy," she sighed, hooking one leg high over his thighs. His erection poked between her legs. She completely forgot what she'd planned, instead reaching down and carefully closing her fist around the thick shaft, her fingers not able to meet. It felt warm in her hands, rigid and pulsing slightly as if it was alive, soft, the mushroom-shaped tip red. When she squeezed gently Daddy inhaled. Grinning she squeezed a bit harder. It jumped in her hand.

Holding it between her legs his erection looked huge to her. She wondered how deep it would go and, shuffling down a bit more she pushed it onto her tummy and with her other hand, used a finger to mark the tip; almost at her belly button!

"Look, Daddy. It's going to go all the way up to here."

I THINK MY EYES might have crossed. I definitely felt a bit woozy with all the blood draining from my head. Just the thought I might actually penetrate my little nine-year-old so deeply was suddenly as arousing as hell. Suddenly I wondered how tight her pussy might really be; how she'd feel as I penetrated her. Suddenly I desperately, desperately wanted to have sex with my daughter.

On my side as Lucy lay on her back studying my erection between her legs, need started me moving. Lifting one leg, I let her left leg slip between mine, closing my legs to trap her. I gently drew her right leg higher over my waist spreading her little pussy, my erection hovering over her tummy. Reaching down I caressed her sexy little pussy, gently probing her short cleft and rubbing her clit, spreading her slippery moisture and lightly touching her vaginal entrance. God, but she was so excitingly small.

Lucy moaned, eyes suddenly looking at me. "Can you put it in, Daddy?" she whispered, hips humping gently. "Please?"

Bending down I kissed her gently. "I'll try, baby, but it might hurt."

Lucy smiled. "S'okay. Try, Daddy."

Taking my shaft in hand I shuffled back slightly to get the crown to her tiny slit. Gently, teasingly, I swiped the tip along her little cleft, shuddering at the sensations bombarding me. I felt her plump little labia caressing me. I felt her tiny clit against my crown. And the sight! The sight of my huge erection touching her childish pussy was achingly erotic. Lucy's little cleft was almost completely covered by my crown. Tendrils of concern wafted through my aroused mind.

I felt torn. On one hand the anticipation of penetrating such a little pussy, feeling my little girl tight on me, made me ache with desire. On the other I was scared I'd hurt her, really hurt her. She was so, so petite. I was so large.

Taking a deep breath, I gently slipped my crown up and down her little slit spreading slippery precum into her moist cleft. Slowly her labia bulged out and, incredibly, oozed apart to hug the very tip of my erection. Gripping my aching shaft I worked the crown up and down, slipping deeper, her pussy pooching out, spreading. On a downward stroke I felt her perineum catch me. Lucy's tiny clit was pressing down kissing my crown.

Gently, oh so gently, I pressed in. My crown flared and flattened. Lucy's pussy bulged and I made no progress, her tiny, tiny vagina stubbornly resisting. Precum oozed out into her. Her slit was hot against me. I tried again, pressing in carefully, unsuccessfully.

Now my stomach was clenching. I knew, without too much effort I could climax and fire my semen into her tiny vagina. But I wanted more. I wanted to feel myself actually penetrating my little girl. I pressed a bit harder, urgency now driving me. Nothing. I felt like weeping; so close, so close. But Lucy was too small.

"Lucy, sweetheart. You're too young; too small," I said, resigned, beginning to pull back.

"No! Wait, Daddy, wait." Lucy pulled me with her leg over my waist. She pressed her tiny pussy at me, eyes closing in concentration.

Unbelievably I watched as her plump labia stretched, fading to pale pink. Unbelievably I felt her tiny vagina pressing against the tip, pressing, stretching, slowly stretching, a tight band working its way over my crown.

Lucy gasped, eased off, inhaled and pressed, fists gripping the sheet. Still holding my shaft, I actually felt Lucy's opening slip down, excruciatingly tight, squeezing blood from my crown, her little clit dipping and kissing my erection as if encouraging it, welcoming it.

And then with a grunt, Lucy shoved and as if a barrier had been broken, my crown popped in to the tightest, tightest little pussy imaginable.

Her breath hissed in through clenched teeth. Fists pulled at the bed sheet, her eyes were scrunched closed, a frown on her pretty face. I had penetrated my baby and she hurt!

I desperately tried to stop my erection from swelling. But I couldn't. The feeling of my crown being gripped in tight velvet, and seeing myself actually penetrating my little girl's small pussy, her labia stretched around my seemingly monstrous erection, was far, far too erotic. I couldn't stop the pulsing, couldn't tamp down the excitement hammering through me. All I could do was hold still.

I let my shaft go and rested my hand on her small tummy, feeling tremors in her as she tried to adjust to the erection stretching her, penetrating her.

"Lucy, Lucy," I whispered.

Her frown faded. Bright blue eyes opened. She smiled as her fists relaxed. "See, Daddy? It fits."

I almost fainted from pain when she clenched me with her pussy.

Sexy eyes studied me. "Do I feel good?" she asked, seeing my wince.

"Unbelievably good, sweetheart," I managed to moan.

Lucy smiled and tugged with her leg. My arousal was at the feverish stage, the point where caution is lowered. It was too erotic. Seeing my adult erection lodged into a tiny pussy, labia stretched around my shaft, my cock almost completely filling the gap between Lucy's slender legs was the single most erotic sight I'd ever seen.

It took no effort at all to imagine the impossibly pleasurable prospect of fucking her gently. So, when her legs tightened and I watched my erection slip into her tight pussy another half an inch, all fatherly restraint departed.

Bending down I kissed Lucy gently, my hand caressing her slender chest, teasing little bumps. I listened to my little girl murmur, almost purr, and felt her tug again, my erection slipping in slightly more, tightly held, gripped by velvet.

I withdrew slightly and, as if it spread my precum and her moist arousal, suddenly my little girl's pussy was slippery wet, snug, hot. Groaning, I pressed. I felt every millimeter of her insides rub against my crown. I felt a tight, tight sheath slowly envelop my straining erection as I slipped deeper and deeper into her tiny pussy, penetrating my child deeper and deeper. Pulling back slightly, I pressed again. My body shook when Lucy's snug hairless pussy engulfed me completely, my crown sealed to the entrance of her little womb. Jesus, I was fucking my little girl!

Lucy moaned. Her hands dropped to her tummy. "I can feel you, Daddy," she whispered. "Here."

Reaching for my hand, she pressed it to her tummy. I felt nothing, just silky soft, warm skin. But when I withdrew my erection slowly from her vacuum-like hold and reversed and gently fucked back into her I actually felt my erection inside her! God almighty! Staring at where we were joined, Lucy's pussy seemed to be puffed up, stuffed by me. The way her labia clung to my shaft as I gently fucked her, inverting as I withdrew and almost disappearing as I thrust, her tiny clit dipping and kissing my shaft, had my heart racing.

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined sex with a nine-year-old could be so erotic, so pleasurable. And unable to restrain myself any longer, I gently held my little girl's bony hip and started fucking her, slow thrusts, slow withdrawals, fucking gently, long strokes that made me ache with a need for sweet release, a desire to cum in my girl.

Lucy held her tummy as if feeling my erection moving inside her, as if feeling it penetrating her deeply, her eyes closed, nostrils flaring with deep breaths, lips parted. I fucked her gently, every thrust easier, slipperier, deep, deep. My pace increased, burying myself in her velvet pussy, so tight, sensually massaging my entire length.

I fucked my little girl harder, faster, urgency now arriving, pressure building, need becoming a driving force. I fucked her deeply, pressing firmly against her tiny cervix with each glorious thrust, my erection swelling, tight, so tight, Lucy's little clit dipping and kissing my shaft.

Our orgasms hit suddenly, uncontrollably. It started with Lucy grunting, "Uh, uh." Her body cramped when I thrust hard and deep, froze, arched and suddenly she started writhing, small squeaks emitted as she climaxed.

Her orgasm, her clenching pussy, and her body writhing as I fucked her brought my climax storming in, a hurricane hitting me. My erection strained and swelled feeling huge in her tiny pussy. Pressure erupted, pleasure slammed into me, semen released.

"Oh God, Lucy, baby. I'm gonna . . . Uh. Oh God, oh God . . ."

I surged into her, semen exploding as I held my spurting erection sealed to her little womb. Withdrawing and thrusting hard I exploded again, pleasure crashing through me, erection swelling, swelling, semen exploding into my little girl in a heart stopping, endless spurt. Hot wetness flooded my crown, semen flowing back.

"Jesus, baby, I'm . . ."

I gasped again, fucking into her as her little pussy cramped on my erection. I exploded, stars dancing through my vision. Gripping her little hip and side, I fucked Lucy with short strokes, spitting cum into her with each desperate thrust, swelling, spurting, cumming hard. I drew her small body closer and fucked her, depositing my cum in her, bliss wracking my body, hot semen flowing back along my thrusting shaft. I fucked Lucy, chasing my orgasm, spurting, cumming in her, cumming in her until my stomach started cramping, toes curling. My climax crested and exhausted with fading weak spurts pulsing into her, I slowed, slowed, stopped, my softening erection gently throbbing.

Peace flooded in, sated, satisfied, drained. Muscles relaxed, melting. My heart slowed, perspiration cooled me. I gathered Lucy into my arms, rolling her to me, hugging my child, holding her tiny bum.

Lucy snuggled to me with quiet murmurs, pressing against me, burying her face in my chest.

I relished her warmth, luxuriated in the thought my semen was carried in her tiny womb. I sighed.

The bed dipped behind me. I felt Mom lay down. She cuddled up from behind, her naked breasts pressed to my back, her naked body forming to mine. She drew the quilt up over us.

"That was beautiful, honey," she whispered as Lucy slept quietly in my arms. "Just beautiful."