Large single tears collected and slipped from closed eyes, running across a rounded cheek to soak into the light blue cotton pillow cover, a growing dark stain spreading. Turned away from the door, loose curls of silky chestnut hair spread over the pillow; a tangled mop that normally fell in cascading waves down her slender back. Curled up, she cried silently, her heart aching and heavy. Inside her she pleaded, Please pick up the phone, please call, please. Heaviness weighed her down.

She tried to hold the sob in, her body trembling. Unable to, she started crying harder, tears tumbling, sorrow released. She sobbed, her heart aching, agony writhing painfully through her small body. Please call, please, she begged, knowing he wouldn't. She hadn't expected it to be this hard, to hurt so much. She cried for him, she cried for her loss, so painful. Her head hurt from wishing so desperately, trying to project her thoughts, wishing he could hear her, please call, please!

Mom had been surprised when she'd phoned asking to be picked up. For once Mom had been concerned, asking what had happened, what was wrong? She wouldn't talk to Mom about it, just couldn't. Mom wouldn't understand.

She'd carried her suitcase up to the spare room, closed the door and lay on the bed, her agony crashing in around her.

Sleep, brought on by utter emotional exhaustion, slowly stole over her, her last conscious thoughts, Please call Daddy, please, another voice inside her head whispering to her, He won't call, he can't call. Tears finally ended as she slept, fully dressed, on the bed curled up on her side in the exact position she'd fallen into six hours before.

The house was silent, crypt-like, broken occasionally by a creak or groan, its way of reminding me where I was. The only illumination was a weak low-watt lamp on the side table next to me, a lamp that cast a jaundiced, feeble glow into my lap. I could see the slight tremble of my hand as it rested in my lap, damp fingertips holding the folded paper.

It wasn't a house or home any more, just a shelter from the elements. Without her it was an empty shell. Photos that normally warmed with memories sat silent and mocking on the shelves around me, cold reminders of what I'd lost, what had left me.

It wasn't a house or home any more, her presence gone, the presence I could feel even when I couldn't see or hear her. My soul knew when she was there and it cried out in agony with her gone. The house was empty, hollow, echoing the void I felt inside me, the ghost of her presence haunting me everywhere I looked. In my head I could hear her sweet voice, her laughter, her stern admonishment.

I could feel my heart drumming a battle chant in my chest, reflecting the war that was tearing at me. I looked at the folded paper. I didn't want to read it again. I wanted to read it again. It scared me, silently demanding attention, pulling at me. I didn't want to read it, really didn't want to read it. I wanted to read it, desperately wanted to read it. Agony coursed through me constricting my chest. The folded piece of paper, so innocuous, demanded attention, demanded a decision, a decision I couldn't make, a decision no father should have to make.

As the battle raged inside me, cold inky autumn blackness from outside seemed to lean in the window, a physical presence pressing threateningly at the weak yellow light at my side, dimming it. My hand trembled. My life was there, resting between my fingers; my future; damned if I do, damned if I don't.

With a shaky sigh, I brought my hand off my lap, opening the single folded letter. It shook. Carefully I held it with both hands. It shook, both hands trembling uncontrollably. I'd found it on the kitchen table, innocently sitting there, no warning of its contents. No warning of the agony it would cause.

I read the neat compact script, light blue ink belying the heaviness of the message.

Dad,

I'm sorry to tell you this way. It seems unfair to leave you this letter rather than face you, but I know what you'll say anyway, what you've always said. You're right. I know you're right. I accept that. But I can't live with it.

I can't take it any more. I can't take the agony. It constricts my chest, I can't breathe. It keeps me up at night. I don't remember the last full night's rest I've had. I thought I could handle it, but I can't. It's gotten worse.

I can't take the tears and sadness, or the emptiness inside me. Rejection hurts too much.

I know how you feel, I understand the position I've put you in. I'm sorry.

I can't take the pain of being around you and the agony that grips me knowing what could be, what will never be. I'd do anything for you, anything in the world, you know that. But this pain's too much. I don't have the strength to fight any more.

It's not fair to hurt you too, and I know you will. You're too good. It's for the best, Dad. I can't erase my feelings. I can't ignore them and can't dismiss them. You know how I feel. You know I love you. You're the one Dad, no one else, just you.

I don't agree with you. I won't grow out of it. If I can't imagine my world without you in it, how am I going to grow out of it? I'm not naïve, Dad. You can't just dismiss me. I know what a crush is. I've had those. But this isn't one.

You know what I want. I want you to want me, Dad. I understand why you don't, why you can't. But I can't live with the hurt that's with me every day. I can't live with the agony that I feel every time I see you or the aching desire. I can't. I can't be near you any more. It's too much, your presence too strong.

I've moved back in with Mom. Please don't try to call, don't try to see me. If you love me, don't hurt me by trying to get in touch. Please, Dad, don't. I'm sorry I've done this to you, really sorry.

If one day you decide you can give me what I need, call me. Just pick up the phone, Dad. I'll come running. Nothing could stop me coming to you, nothing in the world. I'll wait for you, no matter how long, I'll wait. You're worth it. You're the one, Dad.

Your loving daughter,

Lucy

The words blurred, I felt a tear run down my cheek. My Lucy, gone. Panic hit me when the tear dropped onto the ink, smudging her signature. No! I wiped it frantically, smudging it more. No! Don't damage my letter!

She didn't know. She didn't know how much I loved her, how much I needed her around me. I'd do anything for my daughter, anything. Just not that. It wasn't right, was it?

Silence was my answer, an empty home, a barren house, a shell.

I saw my life stretch out before me, endless days of lifelessness, of no Lucy, of no smiles or hugs, of no comfort and companionship. I saw the wasteland of my life, empty without her overwhelming presence, her charm and wit. I couldn't even imagine not seeing her soft brown eyes, her sparkle, her joy.

I sat, a single tear slipping slowly; damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Lucy wandered back in from a listless stroll around the block. She'd woken with a headache, feeling listless, and dressed without looking at what she was putting on. She'd refused to answer Mom's questions, questions Mom had thrown at her as she left for work. She'd ignored Gary, Mom's new husband. Life was empty, barren, nothing to wake up to, no reason to live. He hadn't called.

Letting herself in the front door, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the red light on the answering machine blinking, her pulse suddenly racing. Did he call? Did Dad call? Nervously pushed the play button and listened. Sobs exploded, heart-felt sobs, tears tumbling, her chest hurting, hurting. Bent over holding herself, she replayed the message crying hard.

She heard a soft voice full of pain, "Okay, Lucy, okay. Come home. Please come home."

I heard the front door open slowly, felt tension ratchet up in my body. The decision had been agonizing. I hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't moved from the armchair all night. It was the hardest decision of my life. But, once made, the easiest decision of my life.

My Lucy appeared in the doorway, hesitant expression on her sweet, sweet face. Soft brown eyes wide. "Daddy?"

"Lucy, honey," I sighed, standing, arms reaching. I wrapped her in an embrace when she ran to me, her comforting arms hugging me. I listened to her cry, my heart breaking. I held my child, held her tight. I'd never let her go again, never.

"That wasn't the agreement, Dad," she informed me with conviction as I prepared dinner, the house feeling full, bright and vibrant; a real home again.

"Sweetheart, that's the condition. It's the only condition."

"And everything else is okay?" she confirmed.

"Yes," I said after a slight hesitation, "everything else is okay." I nodded to myself. I'd made my decision. I'd do anything to keep Lucy with me. I'd never let her go again.

Lucy sat at the kitchen table watching Dad prepare dinner, studying every familiar move, excitement thrumming. Her first reaction when Dad told her intercourse was off the table until she'd had her first period almost had her leaving again. But the twinkle in his sexy eyes, those intelligent adoring eyes, when he said anything else was fine, actually made her blush, her mind immediately conjuring up possibilities.

She stood, walked up to Dad slipping her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek on his back. "All right, Dad. I accept."

Very carefully I dried my hands, turned and hugged my twelve-year-old daughter. She looked up at me, her sweet face resting on my chest, Lucy so petite, her pretty face so expectant, soft attractive eyes, full lips. I cupped her face in my palms, caressed her cheeks gently with my thumbs, bent, and kissed my daughter, kissed her on her tender lips feeling their softness. I kissed my daughter sexually for the first time and it made my heart sing. The way Lucy murmured and pressed herself against me gave me chills; so innocently alluring, so sexy.

I felt my daughter's kiss to the tip of my toes and, surprising me, in my groin. I drowned in her kiss, the final shadow of hesitancy fading away. She felt perfect, absolutely perfect. My Lucy.

"Right. Dinner," I said somewhat breathlessly. "Stop distracting me." Her giggle lanced me; I loved it, no finer music known to a father than a daughter's sound of pleasure.

"Nice kiss, Dad," Lucy said with a smile. It was a fantastic kiss, everything she'd hoped for, and only a beginning. My Daddy. She hugged him tight and let him go.

Over dinner, simple veal scaloppini, lemon caper sauce, new potatoes with parsley butter, and oven-roasted carrots drizzled with garlic-infused olive oil, I studied my daughter with a different perspective, not as my daughter, but as a partner, a sexual partner. It was disorienting, this shift in attitude. I had to admit I found her very attractive which, as a father, through a father's biased eyes, wasn't hard. But she seemed so slender and young, graceful, a willowy beauty on the cusp of womanhood. I was madly in love with the thick loose waves of chestnut hair that cascaded in an unrestrained mass to her rear. Her hair shined with youthful vitality. It framed her slender oval face, her very attractive brown eyes, eyes I noticed watching me with adoration; that felt nice. Lucy had an animated mouth, her full lips seeming to move in fascinating and alluring ways.

But what pulled at my heart, what made me realize just how much I loved Lucy, was her spirit, her personality. She charmed me every day, in every way. It was the fear of never basking in her personality that ultimately made me decide. The house had felt so hollow without her youthful energy and personality filling it to bursting, my life a looming desolate wasteland without her. I grinned when I realized I was head over heels in love with her; all the classic signs, heartache, longing, infatuation. Suddenly I realized this could be fun. I felt like I was fourteen again, first love.

"What's so funny Dad?" Lucy asked. She'd been off daydreaming as she picked at the food. Despite how good it tasted her mind was elsewhere, back on the kiss, Dad's lips so exciting, Dad's arms holding her, Dad's eyes so adoring, so intense it had made her want to cry. His grin had brought her back, a grin that foretold of mischief and playfulness, a grin that made Dad look so young and handsome; a grin that made her heart ache. Mine, all mine, and he'd agreed!

"Have you actually thought about this?" I asked. "I mean, what exactly are you going to tell your mother? Or your friends?"

"Nothing," she answered, "It's none of their beeswax."

"And what if they see us out somewhere?"

"What if they do? I love my Dad, so what?"

It wouldn't be quite that easy, I thought. But, I really didn't care at that moment. Bending across the kitchen table, I kissed my daughter again, smiled at her slight blush and the sparkle in her eyes. My little girl was so attractive.

That night, Lucy looked even younger when she stood at the door to my room. She'd obviously prepared carefully, her thick hair pulled back into a ponytail, face freshly washed, ivory skin soft and clear. In a simple large, long T-shirt I could see how slender she was, puberty just beginning, the plane of her chest slightly broken, slim, almost non-existent hips, long, lithe legs, and dainty bare feet. I felt myself become erect at the allure of her innocent, slightly bashful appearance.

Lucy's shy expectant smile ripped through me. It was so hard to believe she was going to get into my bed; that she wanted to get into my bed. It was even harder to believe I was letting her and looking forward to it, too. I smiled, pulled the covers back at my side, the TV playing softly in the background casting a blue flickering light, the only illumination in the room. My heart raced, nerves trembled. I was mesmerized by her, my Lucy so attractive.

Lucy could feel her heart beating in her chest, nerves fluttering in her stomach. She'd prepared carefully for Dad, showering with the expensive soap she'd been saving, washing and drying her hair carefully, brushing it until it glowed. She'd blushed at herself in the bathroom mirror thinking about getting into Dad's bed, sleeping with Dad, God, sleeping with Daddy!

She'd wondered if Dad would like her tiny boobs and debated shaving off the odd-looking pubic hairs that had grown so recently. She'd selected her favorite T-shirt, one she'd stolen from Dad when doing the laundry. She'd tried on almost all her panties trying to guess which he'd find sexiest.

Standing in the door looking at Dad in his bed she felt really nervous. This was it. She felt his bright eyes studying her. Is it good, Daddy? Do you like what you see? She felt the first stir of arousal, a pleasant twinge in her nipples when he smiled and pulled the bed covers aside, his invitation, his acceptance, thrilling her.

"Come, sweetheart. Come to bed."

She ran and threw herself at him. My Daddy!

Breath was knocked out when Lucy dived at me. Suddenly I had a warm bundle of love in my arms, a petite, panty-clad buttock in my hand, my senses assaulted with the perfume of soap, shampoo and Lucy. Two soft brown eyes blinded me with love and expectation. My heart burst.

I rolled Lucy onto her back, leaned over her, looked into my daughter's sexy eyes, looked at my daughter's sensual lips and her desirable mouth. I actually moaned in need when she whispered, "Daddy," so gently, almost a sigh. God I loved her and, even more startling, I desired her. Bending, soft small lips touched mine. Soft sensual lips pressed against mine. I moaned again when two small hands held my face. I regretted my one condition preventing intercourse when Lucy parted her luscious lips and the tip of her tongue gently touched me. I deeply regretted my one condition, my penis erect, throbbing at the incredible sensuality of my twelve-year-old. I was drowning in her sweet allure, drowning at the attractiveness of her youth. Thank God she broke the kiss. My restraint was almost gone. I could imagine making love with her.

Lucy broke the kiss, her heart beating so fast she couldn't breathe. Daddy's kiss was so sexy, so hot, his lips so soft. Arousal had stormed her body, nipples puckering, tight, stiff, her pussy throbbing. It had been such a sudden and intense arousal it had taken her breath away. Her body was crying out for something, needing something.

Looking at Daddy, the intense love in his sexy eyes - God, she'd kissed him - she remembered what she wanted. She wanted everything, all of Daddy. Gently she reached for his big hand. Would he like her new boobs? What would it feel like when he touched them? She drew his hand up from her side, her eyes watching his, watching for his reaction as she gently guided it up to her chest, oh, over her boob, so good.

"Touch, Daddy," she whispered. She shivered at the intense, intense look in Daddy's eyes; eyes that opened in wonder, eyes that narrowed in desire, heat radiating, my Daddy. His touch so, so exciting, her boobs aching, need pulsing. "Do you like them?"

I'd never in my life been close to climaxing from a simple touch. Yet here I was, my erection straining and throbbing painfully, all from a simple gesture, Lucy's gentle invitation. I was ferociously aroused. Lucy had small breasts, really small. On her back they barely broke the plane of her chest, yet they were distinctive. I could feel the contour with my thumb, a slight rise, the bump of a raised nipple, the slope down. When I teased and gently caressed, it plumped up, becoming more defined; so young, so sexy.

My resistance to her was crumbling by the second. She almost demolished it when she took my hand, sexy soft brown eyes shining in excitement, and guided my hand down.

"And here, Daddy. Touch me here," she whispered.

The pad of her mons felt huge under my hand. I could feel its full curves under her cotton T-shirt, feel warmth radiating. Need and desire were storming me, assaulting me. My daughter was so, so sexy, so desirable.

"Does it feel good, Daddy?"

"God, baby, it feels wonderful," I moaned.

Bending, I kissed her, this time with more force, pressing against her sweet lips, my tongue caressing them. As she reached around my neck, such a seductive gesture, her mouth opened and our tongues touched. I was lost, gone. Lucy was too sexy, too desirable. Rational thought melted away. Lucy was my universe.

With my daughter kissing me, I slipped my hand down over her plump mound, my erection pulsing as I felt her part her legs, invite my touch. I cupped Lucy's pussy, her soft cotton panty-clad pussy, heat radiating. With my daughter kissing me, her small tongue tasting my lips, I traced her little cleft down, shuddering when I felt dampness, warm moisture against the pad of my middle finger. Jesus, my little girl was aroused!

With Lucy's kiss intensifying, her tongue pushing between my lips, I heard a sweet moan, I felt her curl her hips and push her pussy against my hand. I sucked my daughter's small tongue, I caressed her pussy, caressed her short cleft, and pressed against the moisture of her arousal that dampened her panties, my hips hunching to stimulate my erection against my underwear. I caressed her short cleft pressing gently, rubbing, stimulating and exploring the sensual shape of a preteen pussy, so small yet lush. It was stunningly sexy. Lucy started moving her hips and pressing her pussy to my hand. A rhythm emerged. Her breathing deepened, hips undulated. I pressed my finger to her cleft, rubbing my little girl.

Lucy suddenly tore her mouth from me gasping, "Daddy!" her hips thrusting up. She climaxed from my touch, her sweet cries assaulting me as she hugged me tight. It was intensely erotic; stunningly sexy. And I came explosively, semen jetting out into my underwear, pleasure assaulting me. Fondling my climaxing little darling, feeling her writhe against my caressing hand, I came hard, hips jerking, hot wet semen soaking me. I came gloriously to the sweet sound of my daughter calling me, the feel of her damp panties, the scent of her arousal. I came hard.

Gentle breathing, the soft waft of warm breath stirring my chest hair, woke me. With eyes still closed, I inhaled the intoxicating aroma of sleepy little girl, my sleepy little girl. Gently I gathered Lucy into my arms and brought her closer. Smiling, I held my daughter to me, my love a physical pain in my chest. Her soft sleeping murmurs and little snuggling movements as she pushed against me brought peace. I slept with a smile on my face, at peace. My Lucy.

I woke to a weak autumn sun, an empty bed and a hard morning erection. Semen-crusted underwear felt uncomfortable. I missed having Lucy in my bed. I wanted her back. Actually, I wanted to do some rather adventurous and sexy things with her. There were so many interesting activities that could bring us pleasure without actual penetration.

Grinning at my randy thoughts, I rose and went to shower.

Lucy turned the coffee machine on hoping she got the measurements right. She felt herself smiling, just couldn't stop. Dad had made her cum so hard she'd pretty much passed out after. But in the middle of the night she'd woken up. Dad was holding her so gently, his strong arms around her. She'd rolled in his arms carefully, turning her back to him and cuddling into him. Sleepily, she'd moved his big hand up from her stomach and put it over her small boob, smiling when she felt him caress gently. With Daddy holding her boob and his reassuring presence behind her, she'd drifted back to sleep and slept deeper than she had in months. All the agony she'd been feeling had vanished, replaced with deep peace. Being in Daddy's arms was right, it was where she was supposed to be.

Lucy reached for the toaster, trying to be quiet. Dad was still sleeping. She continued to smile uncontrollably. Waking up in Dad's bed had felt so good, so exciting. But feeling his erection against her bum had been thrilling. It was as she was lying quietly, gently squeezing her bum cheeks to feel his penis that she'd decided. She was not going to wait for her period. She was going to seduce Dad, drive him nuts and make him want her so much he wouldn't wait.

Lucy giggled softly as she planned.

I paused at the kitchen door. Lucy's back was to me as she stood at the counter, appearing to be making breakfast. She was still wearing the long T-shirt and, in the light of day, I recognized it. It was one of mine. Somehow that made it sexier.

I watched her moving as she placed bread in the toaster, watched the supple movement of small buttocks beneath draping soft cotton. I stared at her slender bare legs. Lucy's chestnut ponytail was a bit mussed, but fell in thick loose curls down her slim back, ending just above the swell of her bottom. I remembered kissing her, the first kiss, and leaning across the table to kiss her at dinner, her shy blush so attractive.

I pictured her as she stood in the bedroom doorway, her slightly bashful appearance, how spectacular the first trace of pubescence looked on her. I remembered the exciting feel of brand new breasts, the seductive curves of her sensual young pussy. I remembered the thrill of discovering her moist arousal.

I stood in the kitchen doorway watching my daughter, so petite, so young and now so, so desirable; a sexy little kitten. I remembered her eyes burning with love and adoration, and I remembered the sweet song of her climax, one of the most pleasing sounds I'd ever heard. And as I watched and remembered I had a raging erection in my jeans.

God, I loved her. And I realized I wanted her, really wanted her. I didn't want to wait. My condition, my one condition seemed so ridiculous in light of the fierce love I felt, the love I knew beyond doubt Lucy felt. Grinning, I decided it would be fun to seduce her, surprise her, and actually make love to her. I wondered how much I could tease her. Gee, what would my little girl look like naked? Damn. I really wanted to find out. That compact little bum looked delicious.

"Morning, honey," I said softly as I hugged her small body from behind, smiling as I let my erection press lightly against her. "How are you this morning?" I asked, bending to kiss her slender neck, inhaling deeply, my Lucy.

The way she tilted her head to give me easier access to her neck was so damn arousing. The way her hand reached up and back to hold my cheek so loving when I nibbled on a small earlobe was very sensual.

"Mmm. Morning, Daddy."

I pulled away when she moved to turn. "So, what's for breakfast?" I asked, pouring myself a coffee. It smelled suspiciously strong.

"Toast," Lucy said with a grin, her heart still pounding. Dad's soft kiss on her neck had hit her right between her legs. Nice. Turning, her heart constricted at the grin on his face. So handsome and all mine. Yup, she was going to seduce and tease and make him want her. "Can we shop today?"

"Sure." I didn't want toast. I was hungry . . . and horny. "Sit, sweetheart. Let me. How about French toast?" I almost choked taking a sip of coffee. It was strong enough to peel paint.

"Kay. I'm going to shower and dress."

After watching her leave the kitchen with what looked like a deliberate sway of her compact little bottom, still slightly bemused from her glorious smile, and pleasantly anticipating spending the day with her, I poured the coffee down the sink and started another pot. Making French toast I wondered how to tease her more. I wondered how I could get her really horny. This was a lot of fun . . . and arousing.

Lucy soaped herself in the shower after rinsing her hair. Looking down she saw her little nipples still beaded. They'd hardened immediately when she'd felt Dad's erection against her back. With soapy hands and the shower pounding her back with warmth, she caressed her small boobs and felt a tingle in her pussy when she replayed Dad kissing her neck, so sexy. Slipping one soapy hand down her tummy, she cupped her pussy and let her middle finger slip between her slit, finding her sensitive, aroused clit. To memories of Dad hugging her, Dad kissing her neck, Dad's big hands on her tummy, she caressed herself, so aroused, Dad so sexy.

Eyes closing, warm water pounding her, she tweaked her nipple, strummed her clit, Dad touching her, Dad holding her pussy, oh, Dad rubbing her slit. She felt herself become moist, her pussy throbbing, an ache forming deep inside, arousal building. Rubbing herself faster she imagined Dad slipping into the shower with her, hugging her from behind, his big erection sliding on her back, his hands reaching around to hold her boobs, my Daddy. Breathing harder, finger strumming, clit aching and pleasure building, she imagined Daddy reaching down, his big hand sliding down her tummy, down further, cupping her pussy, "I love your pussy, Lucy," Daddy touching her, probing between her lips. Hips now moving, climax stirring, she imagined Daddy caressing her slit, caressing her aching clit, Daddy whispering in her ear, "I love you, baby." Her body twitched. Uh. Oh yes, Daddy. Daddy whispering, "I want you, Lucy." Her hips jerked. Uh, uh. Daddy whispering, "I need you," Daddy kissing her neck, Daddy's finger finding the entrance to her vagina, probing, touching, caressing, oh God Daddy, cumming, cumming.

Lucy shook, hips moving, her climax thrashing her body. Her knees weakened. She gasped, so good Daddy, so good.

When her climax passed, her body warm and loose and all nice, she smiled to herself. Yup, she'd seduce him. She had to have Daddy.

Dried and dressed she went down for breakfast.

"Are you coming or what?" I yelled up the stairs.

"Jeez, Dad. Relax." She'd had to change her panties. Sitting at breakfast, Dad's eyes so adoring, so bright and twinkling, had made her excited again. When he'd leaned across the table and kissed her gently, "Mmm, Maple Syrup, delicious, Lucy", she'd gotten a bit aroused. Actually, a lot aroused. Having Dad so loving was exactly, exactly what she'd dreamed of.

"So where are we going?" I asked as we pulled out of the drive, covertly admiring Lucy in her pretty yellow dress. I knew she'd worn it just for me, tying to look pretty and succeeding. I could see a lacy little training bra down the loose neckline and found it very titillating. I liked that she wanted to dress up for me.

"The mall."

"Okay. Which one?"

"The Promenade. It's that way," she pointed, as if I was lost.

I drove absentmindedly.

"Hey! Where are you going? It's there! You're missing it, Dad!"

"Oops, sorry." I was completely distracted, dangerously distracted when Lucy had leaned forward slightly and I saw a perfect little boob cosseted by lace. I'd been straining to see if I could spot her nipple. Cutting across a lane, accepting the beeping horns of annoyed drivers, I cut into the parking lot.

Lucy grinned. Out of the corner of her eye she'd watched Dad looking down her dress. She'd leaned forward to give him a peek, her nipples tingling nicely at the tease. She giggled to herself when he completely missed the first entrance to the mall. Fun. Just wait Dad. We'll see about your one condition.

Walking through the mall with Lucy at my side was really nice. I was grinning and proud, tickled pink by her reactions. As we walked, my hand on her slender shoulder, I used my thumb to caress her neck gently, enjoying the feel of her soft skin. Lucy kept twitching, alternating between pressing herself to my side and tilting her head against my hand. When she finally grabbed my hand and held it to her side, I bent and whispered, "I love you, honey. You look so sexy in that dress I could eat you."

The way she reddened slightly, the way she looked up at me, and the powerful emotions in her soft eyes had my pulse rate spiking.

Lucy was conflicted. She was in seventh heaven with Dad's hand on her shoulder. But annoyed when he caressed her neck, bent and told her he loved her and that she was sexy. She was annoyed. Her panties were moist again. Still, it was nice despite the discomfort in her panties. She liked hearing he loved her.

She took him clothes browsing, showing him sexy things, asking him if he liked them. She especially liked underwear browsing, bending close, asking, "Would you like me to wear these, Dad?" The way his eyes grew wide, she knew he was picturing her in them, lacy little things that wouldn't hide anything. She laughed in delight when he forcefully suggested she should buy them. She didn't.

She had a riot of a time as she carefully reached for clothes making sure the top of her dress would fall open to give him a peek at her bra. She put an extra twitch in her bottom as she walked when she knew he was admiring. And when they had lunch in the sixties diner, sitting side by side in the booth, she laughed hard when he choked on his BLT. She'd felt his erection, her hand slipping into his crotch under the table.

"Jesus, Lucy," I gasped after coughing, covertly looking around to see if anyone had noticed my daughter grope me. I had a strong erection that I'd hoped would subside before we finished lunch, an erection brought on by ogling her seductive little boobs in lace that seemed to appear frequently. Now I'd never get rid of my erection.

"You said 'Everything else is okay' Dad," Lucy said with a giggle.

"Well, yeah. But not in public!"

"Kay."

Her grin told me she had no intention of behaving. I wasn't sure how I was doing at seducing her. It seemed she was having far too much fun teasing me. Nevertheless, I decided a romantic dinner was in order. I'd cook, we'd set the dining room table, dress up properly. Then I'd let the big guns loose; seduce her with attention, with words, little touches, see how nuts I could drive her. Idly, I wondered how damp her panties might get and what her arousal would taste like. I got another hard erection.

She gave me a sweet smile when I suggested a formal dinner and insisted she now really had to go shopping, "Without you, Dad."

That worked. I sat in the booth until I could safely stand without embarrassing myself. It took quite a while and a lot of self discipline.

As we prepared dinner that night, I took every opportunity to subtly seduce Lucy, caressing her back, kissing the crown of her head, telling her I loved her, hugging her. Despite the shine in her eyes, I got the feeling I wasn't being quite as successful as I'd hoped. I didn't see the longing or adoration, the helpless passion I'd hoped to elicit. Lucy just smiled so seductively, soft eyes showing pleasure and laughing at my moves.

"Gonna change," she announced, leaving the kitchen.

Ten minutes later I followed, changing into dark slacks, a nice white cotton dress shirt, burgundy v-neck cashmere sweater, and dress shoes. Back in the kitchen, I opened a bottle of Shiraz red, checked on the rib roast and finished the last bits and pieces.

Lucy prepared carefully. She'd watched Dad's reactions to different clothes she'd shown him in the mall trying to understand what he liked and she thought she now knew. She spent time brushing her hair until it glowed and carefully unpacked her purchases, dressed and, checking herself in the mirror one last time, smiled. God she was excited already. She wondered if Dad would like it.

"Dinner, Lucy," I called up, carving the rib roast. With two plates in my hand I went to the dining room, pausing to check. Soft candle light cast frisky shadows on the burnished table, a floor lamp on low in the corner made everything romantic. Cut crystal wine glasses twinkled deep red from the wine, silverware shining bright. Soft music filtered in from the den. Placing the china plates on the table, I waited to seat Lucy, hearing her descend the stairs.

Any plans I had seemed to vanish in a puff of smoke when Lucy walked into the dining room. Any thoughts I had seemed to vanish, too. I gawped at my daughter. She was stunning in a simple black mid-thigh A-line dress, one with a neckline that plunged enough to give definitive evidence of no bra. Thick chestnut hair tumbled, unrestrained soft curls reaching to the swell of her rear. Soft brown eyes glistened with pleasure as I gasped, mouth open, at her beauty.

Lithe, slender legs in black stockings led my eyes down to delicate ankles, simple black shoes. The flowery scent of perfume wafted towards me, an ambrosia tickling my senses. Lucy so slender, so young, was far too young to be this gorgeous, I thought.

"Good Lord, beautiful," I whispered under my breath, echoing my thoughts. Lucy must have heard my involuntary comment, her face lighting up my world, her smile burning me, the pleasure in her eyes lancing into me. She was such a contrast, so diminutive, petite and slight, so young, the first hint of pubescence so gloriously attractive. Yet, her dress, her comportment, the way she'd prepared so carefully, and the maturity she projected made her so alluring. I wanted to forget about dinner. I wanted Lucy for dessert. For a moment I had an overwhelming need to pick her up, carry her to my bed and make love to her.

"Thank you, Lucy," I said softly, pulling her chair back, slipping it in when she sat. Glancing down over her shoulder, I started developing an erection, the sight of small swells, the sides of her petite breasts appearing.

"For what, Dad?" she asked, shaking me out of my rapt stare.

I sat across from her, took a sip of wine and basked in the glory of her. "For coming home, sweetheart."

Dinner was surreal. Lucy charmed me with her wit and lit my heart with her gentle laughs. She tore love from me with her deeply attractive giggles. Lucy enchanted me at dinner, bewitched me. And passing through my mind was an endless wonder that I was going to make love with her; make love with my little girl, and it felt right. Dinner ended far too quickly. We moved to the den, sitting side by side, Lucy holding my arm around her as she laughed and giggled her way though Rush Hour. I completely forgot I was supposed to be seducing her; my daughter was seducing me.

When the movie ended she rose, leaned over, kissed my cheek. Soft brown eyes looked at me with such adoration it made me feel a little weak. I caught a glimpse of the swell of small breasts before she straightened, her hand lifting mine.

"Come, Dad."

Lucy led me up, her slender hips moving so seductively, the whisper of stockings breaking the silence. My erection returned, getting harder with each step closer to my bedroom. I was putty, a lamb in her hands, besotted.

Lucy knew. She knew Dad had forgotten his one condition. It was in his eyes, intelligent eyes that burned with love, burned with desire. It was in his behavior. She'd never seen Dad so quiet, so completely focused on her through dinner. It sent warm spikes of arousal through her. She basked in his attention, her heart thumping in her chest from the way he looked at her. She drowned in the adoration he showed.

She almost cried from the way he thanked her for coming home. But now, as she led Dad into his bedroom, her excitement built. Tonight. Tonight she was going to get what she had wanted for so, so long. Tonight Dad was going to make love to her. Of that she was absolutely sure.

"Dad, sit here, please," she instructed, gently maneuvering him to the side of the bed. She bent and kissed his cheek lightly, inhaling his manly scent, the slight roughness of his day-old beard. "You're the one, Dad, just you," she whispered, smiling slightly at his intake of breath, his sexy eyes widening.

She wondered if he'd like it. She'd wanted to be sexy for him, wanted something that would overcome his one condition and break down his wall. Although now, she was pretty sure his wall had collapsed.

Pulling her long hair over her shoulders to her front, she reached behind and slipped the zipper down her back, her nipples puckering in excitement, sore from rubbing against the dress all evening. She watched Dad carefully, her attention focused on his face, excitement and trepidation fluttering inside. This is it, she said to herself. With a deep breath, she let her dress fall to the floor. A deep, deep thrill hit her, a strong pulse of arousal. Dad gasped, his eyes wide. She saw his erection move.

I was gone, done for, completely lost in my daughter's charm, in her beauty. I was lost as I saw her dress fall in a quiet swish to collect at her feet. If I'd had any strength of will left, it evaporated at the sight of a lacy black garter belt, black stockings, and small slinky black panties that captured the light, emphasized the succulence of her preteen pubis. I was done for when she swept her thick soft curls behind her shoulders. Lucy had stunning little breasts, perfectly formed miniature breasts topped with tiny pink areolae and little beads of nipples.

I sat finding it difficult to breathe, my erection hard and pulsing as she collected her hair, her head tilted, and slipped a band over it forming a ponytail, her incredible breasts moving and jiggling, so desirable and firm.

"Good God, you're gorgeous," I whispered in awe.

Lucy felt Dad's appreciation like a physical force, her body hot from his stare. Her nipples started aching. She felt rhythmic pulses of arousal in her pussy. "Do you like it, Dad?" she asked, cocking her hips and striking a pose, smiling at the intensity in his eyes. "Is it sexy?"

"Fu . . ." exploded from my mouth. "Um. Jesus Lucy, sexy doesn't even begin to describe you."

She burst into giggles. She'd never, never heard Dad swear. How fun was that?

Standing quickly, I wrapped Lucy in my arms, picked her up, stopped her delightful giggles with a kiss as I carried my little darling to bed, feeling lightheaded as I lay her down. I wanted Lucy as I'd never wanted anyone.

She watched as I shucked my clothes, watched with such soft, sexy eyes and a gentle, knowing smile that was far too wise for someone her age. Her eyes dipped and looked at the tent in my boxers. She looked back up, her smile morphing into a smirk, satisfaction filling her eyes. I was a slave to her, carefully assessing her expressions, trying desperately to interpret what she wanted.

I was a slave to my daughter, ready to do anything and everything for her, just for her. I had an unreasonable desire to make her happy, a primal need to make my child happy. Anything, anything she wanted was what I wanted.

"Daddy," she said softly, her smile so sexy, so seductive. My heart tripped when she held out her slender arms to me. The mattress dipped as I lay beside her, rolling her towards me. Gently, my heard pounding, I held Lucy in my arms, so petite, so young, so desirable.

Her eyes transfixed me as I kissed her. They softened and, God, my young daughter melted in my arms, her eyes closing, her small mouth opening. She pushed those petite breasts against me, writhed like a sexy minx as her tongue caressed mine. I was a slave, besotted.

Passion flooded me. My eyes closed, senses concentrated on the feel of my daughter's mouth against mine, the feel of her small breasts against my chest, and the feel of tiny satiny panties hugging delectable little buttocks.

I was a slave to my child, passion blinding me, need and desire thrashing me. I heard my moan as I slipped my hand under sexy panties and felt the seductive swell of soft cool skin, my erection throbbing and hard as I held a perfect little buttock, a sensual firm little buttock.

I was a slave to Lucy, completely under her spell as I traced the incredible curve of her ass, fingertips slipping along her valley.

"You can take them off, Daddy," she whispered, her sweet breath hot in my ear.

I was a slave, heart palpitating as she rolled onto her back and raised her bottom. Time slowed, my universe narrowed. Gently, with my erection pulsing, stiff and painful, I slipped her black satiny panties down, pulling the underside over the swell of her bottom. Passion was storming me as I slipped my daughter's satiny panties down slender stocking-clad thighs. I felt her move her legs, felt her kick her panties off. My erection was rock hard and aching. I wanted to see my little girl's pussy, smell her, taste her. What did a preteen taste like?

Lucy could feel her body trembling. She had an ache deep inside her pussy as Daddy pulled her panties off. She was wet, so horny the gusset had stuck to her crotch before snapping away. My Daddy. His sexy scent filled her senses, his cheek rough against hers. God she wanted Daddy to touch her, feel how wet she was for him, for Daddy, only for Daddy.

Rolling onto her back and reaching down, she took his wrist, guiding him. "Here, Daddy. Feel how much I want you," she whispered, shuddering when his hand cupped her pussy. Yessss. She moaned when he bent and kissed her nipple, her chest heaving off the mattress. Combing her fingers through his hair, she pulled his lips to her aching breast, groaning at the feel of his tongue, at the feel of his gentle suction. So horny, Daddy. I need you so much.

A stab of pleasure hit her, dizziness overcoming her when he caressed her moist slit, his fingertip tracing it. Wet, Daddy, so wet. Heat flushed through her body, she jerked. His fingertip slipped into her pussy and touched her entrance, so wet, Daddy, you make me so wet.

It was exquisite agony, her body strumming with need, pressure inside building. Her nipples hurt, muscles ached with tension. Her world narrowed, Daddy's tongue caressing her sore nipple, Daddy's finger sliding through her pussy, Daddy touching her sensitive clit, Daddy sucking her breast gently, oh God, Daddy caressing her clit.

Too much. Pain and pleasure slammed into her, her body heaving off the mattress as if she'd been electrocuted. "Oh God, Daddy!" Agony tore through her, pleasure exploded, her heart burst. Clutching Daddy's head, she climaxed, tears falling, chest heaving, pleasure, pleasure, oh God, bliss, bliss, "Daddy!"

I cuddled Lucy's trembling body to my side, felt her jerk spasmodically. She was glorious in her climax, completely unrestrained. I could smell her intoxicating arousal. My daughter's hot sweaty body felt so good in my arms. I kissed her damp brow. "I love you, sweetheart," I whispered, enthralled by the intensity of my feelings for her.

We lay quietly. I replayed every sigh, every moan, every touch. My erection throbbed with each memory, so sexy, so damn desirable. I wanted her so, so much.

Lucy announced her recovery from a strong orgasm with a silk, stocking-clad leg slipping over my thigh, a soft murmur at my side, a little wiggle pressing petite breasts against me. Looking down, two large soft brown eyes stared at me with enough adoration to make my chest hurt. I wanted Lucy so, so much. My desire to make love to her was painful.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

Big brown eyes stared, a soft smile emerged. Lucy said nothing, but her eyes spoke. She slowly rolled onto her back, her eyes inviting. Slender arms reached for me as I turned on my side, raised up on my elbow. She tugged at my neck. In the corner of my eye I saw her spread her legs.

"I want you. Can we do it? Please?"

Rising, I slipped my boxers off, admiring the magnificent display of pubescence, petite breasts with pink areolae, little nipples; slender body so young, so attractive; sharp hip bones and black garter emphasized the prominent pad of her mons; slender delectable thighs spread, so sexy in silky black stockings. Lucy seemed so young, so innocent, yet with the stockings, so alluring, so desirable. Somehow the delicate sprinkling of newly grown dark pubic hairs made her pubis look younger than if it had been bare; a sign of pubescence, the onset of maturity, the pending arrival of fertility.

I was hard, aching and leaking, precum sliding coolly down my shaft. I needed my daughter, wanted her, desperately wanted her.

Rising, I moved between her outstretched legs. Lucy looked even smaller from above. Her smile encouraged me, urged me on. Her hands caressed my arms. God she was so young, so sexy.

"Daddy?" she whispered as I stared down, her eyes dropping to see my erection looming between her legs.

Leaning over her I kissed her gently and felt her hands caress my face, so much love in her gentle touch. She held my face, looked intently.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I asked.

"Do you want?" she asked in reply.

"Yes," I admitted, "I want you, Lucy."

Lucy smiled and tugged at my neck to pull me closer.

The love I felt, a love that filled me with warmth, felt right. Yes, I wanted to make love to my daughter, wanted to make her mine, all mine. Reaching, I took my straining erection in hand. Holding myself up with a straight arm, I guided the tip to her small cleft. Doubts trickled in when I saw how large I was, saw how short her cleft was and how small her pussy was. She parted her legs further and soft, sexy, plump labia oozed apart to reveal the red, moist interior of her cleft. I shuddered at the sight and had serious doubts when I saw the incredibly tiny dark shadowed entrance to her vagina below her long clitoral hood. Worry dimmed my passion. Jesus, my crown was as large as her entire cleft.

"I don't think . . ."

"Please, Daddy," she whispered, pleadingly.

The first touch, my crown touching her labia, sent a pulse of pleasure through me, pleasure that displaced my worry. I could see slippery precum glistening as it leaked on her, my arousal building anew. Pressing forward I watched plump labia flatten, groaning at the incredible sight of sexy labia resisting my advance. My cock looked huge pressed against her almost hairless pussy. Lucy was suddenly tiny under me, young and intensely desirable. I shook at the prospect of actually penetrating her, actually having intercourse with her, actually making love to my little girl.

God I wanted her.

Pressing forward I watched in amazement as Lucy's labia stretched and thinned, suddenly spreading, oozing apart to encompass two-thirds of my crown, her tiny entrance touching the tip. I could see my crown swelling rhythmically, so exciting, her little cleft completely full.

Jesus I was hard, need and desire punishing me. Wedged to Lucy's entrance, I lay down, relishing the feel of her petite, slender, barely pubescent body under me, thrilled at the feeling of my erection nestled firmly to her tiny entrance. I felt her silky moisture, felt my slippery lubrication, felt the warm hug of her labia. Anticipation of penetrating my little girl made my heart race.

Need and desire punished me, I wanted to thrust so much.

Lucy's arms moved to my chest and tugged me. "Try now, Daddy."

I started pushing slightly, easing off and pushing slightly. Lucy's arousal and my lubrication made her slippery, her tiny entrance yielding minutely with each gentle push. Slowly, so slowly, I pushed, eased off, and pushed again, each push making progress, her tiny entrance dilating. Lucy started moving, a gentle rhythm building, my tip gently pressing in. I didn't feel my daughter lose her virginity, the only sign was Lucy inhaling sharply with a frown and grimace and her legs twitching as if trying to close. But suddenly I was there. I slipped in, my crown gripped in a tight vise. Lucy's stocking-clad legs slipped up mine, her pelvis curling up. And, as if all final resistance had melted away, my thick erection slid into her velvet sheath in a long, slow stroke, her tight vagina gripping me. I felt like I was sliding in endlessly, slipping into paradise.

It was almost too much. A pulse of pleasure tore through me and my cock flexed; the feeling of my erection being held tightly by my little girl's vagina was almost too much.

Lucy sighed just as I nudged against her end. Unbelievably my twelve-year-old had taken me in fully, completely. Lordy, I was in, I was penetrating my daughter, sex with my child. I luxuriated in the firm hold she had, at the warmth holding my shaft so tightly. Pulses of pleasure were bombarding me as my crown swelled, held so tightly, so deep inside her.

Lucy's arms tugged at my chest, trying to pull me down, pull me deeper, her legs tightening. I withdrew, her vagina clasping my aching erection. Groaning, I slid in, all the way, a velvet vise gripping me.

"Jesus, Lucy. This feels so good," I whispered, settling a bit of my weight on her petite body under me, feeling a bit dizzy from the incredible sensation of penetrating her. Nothing had prepared me for the pure joy of sex with a preteen, how excitingly small her body felt under me, how sensual little feet caressing my legs were, and, above anything, the tight, snug hold of her immature vagina. It all combined to almost take me over the top. A surge of pleasure hit.

Lifting up on my elbows, buried to the hilt in my little girl, I kissed her gently. Lucy held my neck, looked at me deeply and smiled, a glorious smile that stabbed me in my heart.

"You're all the way in," she said with a proud smile.

"How does it feel?" I asked.

She paused. I felt a light clench on my erection. Smiling, she answered, "It feels like I'm stuffed and stretched. You're really big inside me and deep, too." She clenched again. "I like it." Pulling me into another kiss, her slim hips curled up, slender stocking-clad legs pulling at me.

"Does it hurt?" I asked in a whisper as I settled on her small l body again, one hand stroking down her side to hold a sweet little buttock.

"Not any more. It aches a bit."

"Tell me to stop if it hurts," I whispered, and gently withdrew my throbbing erection from her tight pussy. It felt like she was clinging to my shaft, reluctant to let it go.

We started to move, gentle strokes, long deep slow strokes, sighs and moans breaking the silence. I caressed her succulent buttock, pulling her bum to me when I thrust into her gently. My nose was buried in her hair, inhaling the scent of innocence, of youth, of little girl, my Lucy. We moved with more urgency, long deep gloriously enjoyable strokes, faster strokes, so tight, so velvety soft, so warm. I couldn't believe I was fucking my little girl and it felt better than any sex I'd experienced before.

"I'm getting there, Daddy," Lucy panted, her legs pulling at my thighs.

"Me too," I moaned, hunching and fucking her deeply.

A subtle fog descended over me; the fog of desire. Arousal punished my body as I fucked Lucy with harder strokes. I began to thump into her end, her tight vagina massaging my straining erection. God, fucking my twelve-year-old was so good. Her panting breath only added to my arousal, her small arms clutching me, so petite under me. I needed. I needed to cum in her, cum in my daughter.

Wet slapping sounds started as we writhed against each other, Lucy grunting lightly with each thrust, curling her bum up, legs tugging insistently. We fucked faster, harder.

"Almost there, Daddy" she gasped, hugging me tight.

I held her small shoulders, my universe narrowing to the music of my daughter and the incredible sensation of penetrating her tight little pussy, my hips shoving. I drowned in the sensation of fucking Lucy, so petite and delicate under me.

Desperation bloomed. Pressure built. I needed to cum, needed to climax, the pressure inside me becoming painful. I thrust hard, fucking Lucy urgently, relishing her grunts as I held her tight and thumped into her end, relishing how her small body jerked under me.

"Cum with me, baby," I gasped, fucking harder.

"Daddy!" Lucy cried out, shoving her pelvis up against me. She went wild, writhing and undulating, her vagina cramping on my pounding erection. "Cumming Daddy!"

Fuck me.

The world exploded. "Lucy, baby!" I groaned, shoved deep, erection swelling. Semen burned up my shaft, pleasure erupted as I spurted deep into my little darling. Control was lost as I pulled back, a short stroke, tugged her small shoulders and thrust deep, semen exploding in a blinding crash of ecstasy. With my little girl writhing and climaxing under me, I fucked into her, ejaculating hard with each desperate thrust, pleasure inundating me, cumming beautifully, spurting hard into her immature womb, cumming in my baby, cumming in Lucy, so intense, so good, God, Lucy, so good.

She felt good underneath me as we lay panting in post-orgasmic peace, sweat cooling on my back. Her legs were limp and flat on the bed, her hug ending, arms falling to the sheet. Her gentle murmurs were music to my ears. My Lucy felt so deliciously petite and slender under me. I loved how her wet pussy clenched every so often, tightening on my half erect penis. I'd never experienced sex like it, but was going to again, that was for sure.

I loved lying on my daughter, loved having my penis inside her. I loved Lucy. I'd never let her go.

"Gawd, Dad. That was incredible," she sighed, clenching her pussy and stirring under me.

I flexed my penis.

Lucy giggled in response and clenched again.

Unbelieveable! I felt myself thickening.

Lucy giggled again and clenched her tight, wet pussy. "Daddy," she sighed, hugging me as I moved slightly and pushed into her a bit. "Again," she sighed. Blood rushed down.

Yes. Again. Definitely again.