LEIGH ANNE WAS ON cloud nine. She couldn't stop smiling or feeling flushed despite the fatigue. She'd been in a constant state of excitement and nervousness for the whole trip. She couldn't believe it. Paris! It was just so romantic!

Glancing out the taxi window she ignored the drizzle and low-hanging gray clouds. Their gloom couldn't ruin her mood. Holding Dad's hand she stared at the sights.

"Look, Dad. The Arc de Triomphe!" she exclaimed excitedly, pointing.

In her chest she had this huge sigh that just wouldn't go away. This was perfect. For the past year and a half she'd let herself pretend it was just her and Dad together again, and now it was. It wasn't that she disliked her step-mom. Karen was not really there with them, even when she was in the same room. It was just, Karen, by being there, got in the way.

Now she was alone with Dad and her birthday was only three days away. He'd promised, too, maybe not in words but in looks and smiles and gentle kisses and tight hugs. Her hands felt damp. Glancing up at him she felt that same rush of love, heat warming her, her heart tripping. Mine. He's mine not hers.

She turned back to watch Paris flowing by outside the taxi, excited and squeezing Dad's hand.

I SQUEEZED LEIGH ANNE's hand in response to her. Her palm was damp. My daughter was excited yet nervous. So was I. We hadn't explicitly talked about what was going to happen on her thirteenth birthday but it was understood by us both and it filled me with expectation and illicit excitement, and even trepidation.

It was our secret. It had just developed that way without planning, without being stated, a gradual culmination of small actions over the last year and a half. Leigh Anne had been eleven when things started to change in our relationship . . .

Chapter One: Genesis

My daughter knew how I felt about her. She'd been told countless times how much I adored her. She'd been hugged and cuddled and loved her whole life. She'd seen how I preferred to be with her rather than her stepmother - that relationship fading very soon after wedding vows were exchanged and access to bank accounts gained. Karen was my mistake, a harmless one. She was blonde and pretty and, in hindsight, slightly vacuous. She had a considerate personality but romance faded as did sex after the first year, Karen seemingly not interested. It wasn't malice or dislike. There was no acrimony, either. Things just died between us and I didn't have the energy or enthusiasm for a divorce, so life settled. Besides, I had Leigh Anne in my life.

My daughter and I had a sense of humor that was beyond Karen's appreciation and it became our secret language, subtle and dry. We could look at each other, say a couple of words, arch an eyebrow, and elicit laughs, confounding Karen.

I loved being with my daughter more than anyone else in the world. It's why I'd worked so hard; to bring me to the point where I could take time off when I wished, refuse new clients or have my partners handle the legal needs of existing clients.

Through her formative years when she'd transitioned from babyhood into a beautiful little girl, Leigh Anne charmed and enchanted me. We had our special moments; the tea parties where she'd dress up as a princess and feed imaginary tea to me and her stuffed animals on the floor of her bedroom, accompanied by a never-ending stream of conversation acting out each stuffed animal's role and instructing me what to say; or our walks to the park, stepmother not invited, just Daddy and daughter to waste away the lazy weekend afternoon on swings and seesaws, "Whee, higher, Daddy!" shrieked in frightened joy.

Leigh Anne, a cute-as-a-button little girl, gradually changed as she grew. She shed chubbiness at six, sprouted rather astonishingly at eight, and started puberty at eleven.

That's when our relationship began its metamorphosis. That was the tipping point, the genesis of our secret; Leigh Anne's puberty.

Suddenly Leigh Anne was slightly more mature in her mien, a little lady peeking out from the child she still was; delightfully silly in one moment yet intelligent and insightful the next. Physically she began to change, too. Her mother's Mediterranean heritage emerged; Leigh Anne's hair darkening to a lustrous raven black, her skin tanning easily to golden brown and glowing with health. She'd inherited my dark-gray eyes which, framed by her dark hair, were stunning and penetrating and wonderfully expressive.

She was eleven and a half when I had the "Talk" with her, explaining what was going to happen to her body and correcting her school-acquired misconceptions. It was a conversation instigated by Leigh Anne one evening when we'd been left alone - Karen being out with 'the girls'.

"Dad, can I ask you something?" she'd asked somewhat hesitantly.

Drawing her onto my lap at the kitchen table, I brushed tendrils of long dark hair out of her face, pushed them behind delicate ears and smiled. "Sure. What's up, Sweetheart?"

Leigh Anne smiled shyly. "My nipples hurt sometime and they're always sensitive. Does that mean I'm starting puberty?"

The smile of fatherly pride hurt my face. What a thrill it was explaining the changes that were about to assault her coltish body. Leigh Anne's self-conscious blushes made her, in my extremely biased opinion, stunningly pretty. And, three weeks later, small hard pads developed under her areolae.

"Dad, feel this," she'd said, checking that Karen wasn't in the vicinity. She took my hand and drew it to her T-shirt-covered chest. "Can you feel it? Is that what you were talking about?" she asked.

Pressing gently over her T-shirt, I explored.

"Ouch. That hurts," Leigh Anne said, her hand rising to cover mine.

The smallest pad, a little hard lump, was easy to discern and I loved it. I found it so exciting to feel that first manifestation of pubescence. I'd thought about puberty in girls from the moment Leigh Anne had entered the world; that mystical transformation that girls go through so fascinating to me. It was the birth of sexuality and because of it, I was absorbed by it. I considered it to be just about the sexiest thing imaginable. There was magic in the way a young girl's body changed in preparation for sex. And there, under my fingers, was the first sign of imminent maturity in my little girl. I loved it.

We celebrated at my insistence with a father-daughter dinner out, Karen off somewhere again. The change in Leigh Anne was immediately apparent. Sitting across from me in a booth at Buffalo Bill's and eating sticky chicken wings, Leigh Anne ate with delicacy using fingertips, her mouth wiped politely and very pretty eyes shining with pride. My kiss on her cheek that night before bed was softer, too. I was extremely proud of her.

Over the following few weeks I quite lost myself in her excitement. Researching everything about pubescence I applied my newfound knowledge by taking Leigh Anne bra shopping. It was a wonderful experience too few fathers get to experience. We strolled through malls and into lingerie store after lingerie store. I wasn't in the least bit embarrassed, nor was Leigh Anne. We inspected and commented and admired and laughed at some of the bras, my daughter's eyes alive with excitement. Through it all I couldn't help but notice how erotic training bras truly were. In their smallness, with their lack of cups and youthful patterns they projected sweet innocence. Yet in their function they projected sensuality; lingerie for little girls, her first bra. I loved the dichotomy. I adored the idea of Leigh Anne wearing one and reacted physically when an active imagination pictured her in one; the combination of youth and purity together with puberty's arrival was so enticingly attractive to me.

Leigh Anne laughed and inspected. Measurements weren't really needed. The choice was one of esthetics; color, shape, and flourishes. Did she want plain white for school? Did she want the one with little red roses, the soft cotton one, the one with a little pink bow in the center, or the one with a silkier feel?

When I insisted on buying matching panties, Leigh Anne looked at me with such surprised delight and hugged me so hard I almost had heart palpitations. Lunch at Wolfgang Puck's was my reward . . . not the meal, but seeing the delight in my daughter's face, her smiles and enthusiasm about going home to try on her new lingerie.

Over a pasta dish of some sort, one with five types of mushrooms and sumptuous cream and garlic, I brought up the prospect of menarche, her first period.

"You need to be prepared," I said. "Your first can happen at any time, but most likely it will come after pubic hair appears."

"I don't have any, Dad," Leigh Anne told me with a lovely little blush.

"Okay. But you need to be prepared anyway. You don't want to be caught out at school, do you?"

A look of horror passed across her face. "I didn't think of that! Oh m'God! That would be awful!"

Smiling, I reached across and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't worry. I think we should get you some pads to keep in your locker just in case."

I explained her first would probably be very mild, perhaps a bit of spotting in her panties. But when we started discussing cramps, Leigh Anne lost some of her enthusiasm for puberty. After lunch we dropped into Walgreens and perused the feminine hygiene section. The massive selection was a bit intimidating. I noticed several female shoppers smiling at us as we checked box after box. We inspected and discussed and settled on a "light days panty liner" version from Kotex. I loved it. My little girl was changing before my eyes and I adored her shy enthusiasm.

On the trip home Leigh Anne's excitement at her new lingerie was palpable. She held the shopping bag in her lap, every so often peering into it. I discussed how she could minimize cramps when and if they came, research suggesting exercise could reduce their severity. Thus we agreed that basketball would be the exercise of choice and I would put up a basketball backboard, hoop and net on the garage. She made me promise to play, too, every day after I'd get home. It was an easy promise to make.

That afternoon I discovered an attraction for my daughter that went far beyond fatherly. The abstract sexiness of puberty became very real. Leigh Anne discovered her budding sexuality and allure, the power of femininity over the male species and, specifically, over her father. At her insistence and my non-existent resistance, Leigh Anne put on a lingerie fashion show for me and, where before she might have giggled at showing me her underwear, this young girl didn't. She studied my appreciative stares with shy pleasure. She understood when my comments went from, "very nice," to, "it looks beautiful on you," to, "that's really quite sexy, Honey," which induced a pleased blush.

Over the next six months our relationship became steadily more secretive and intimate. Leigh Anne started testing her newfound sexuality on me and found a receptive audience. She knew when she had me feel those hard pads growing under her areolae that it was more than just to show me progress. She could tell from the softness and quietness of my voice how I felt, too. I caressed those budding pads gently, exploring their gradual growth and relished the sensuality of my actions. Leigh Anne would sigh quietly and whisper how my touch felt good and made them ache less, and every time her stepmother appeared, she'd draw my hand away, rise from my lap and kiss my cheek before leaving the room. Karen was blissfully ignorant of what was developing, thank goodness.

It was our secret, an aspect to our relationship never discussed but tacitly understood. Leigh Anne and I were moving into ever-more intimate territory. We might not have known how far it would go, but the slow journey was wonderful and, enchanted by her budding sexuality, I did nothing to discourage her. My little girl was letting me experience something mystical and fascinating. She was letting me experience puberty along with her, both physical and emotional, and I adored her gift to me. Nothing had appealed to me so strongly.

It was sexy and sweet and arousing how Leigh Anne's kisses gradually moved down my cheek until she was kissing me goodnight or good morning on the cusp of being intimate, just on the corner of my mouth. If anything it made her kisses even more exciting. Sitting together watching television, Karen in an armchair on the phone with friends, I'd physically respond every time my daughter held my hand. She always drew it down to her thigh to rest, her thumb caressing the back of my hand almost absentmindedly. My hand's proximity to her crotch brought back memories of youth and the excitement of anticipation, the desire to feel higher, to touch a girl's most private place, the thrill of the unknown and unexplored.

Our journey took another sharp turn one night. Karen was asleep in bed next to me wearing her sleeping mask. I'd felt amorous, a condition brought on by my daughter's sweetly sexual overtures. An approach to Karen had been rebuffed with a claim of tiredness from a day of tennis at the club. My restless mind naturally turned to Leigh Anne, a warm feeling flowing into me. The relationship that had developed with her was powerfully exciting, so full of promise and sweetly erotic, the illicitness of it adding to its allure.

That night, with memories of caressing a daughter's soft bare young thigh on the couch that evening, I slipped out of bed and went to her room. I had no plans, just a desire to be with her. She was a dark shadow in the bed that became clearer as I neared. Her bed dipped when I sat at her side, waking her. Dark-gray eyes opened. A smile emerged on her pretty face.

"Daddy," she whispered, the single word sending pulses of pleasure through me.

Bending, I moved in to kiss her cheek. She moved slightly and for the very first time lips brushed against each other. It was intensely sexy to me, that first kiss, an erection forming. Leigh Anne looked at me hesitantly until I smiled and kissed her lips again. This time the kiss lingered, gentle pressure, lips closed, her mouth so small. It was a watershed moment. The kiss took us firmly into the realm of sexual contact. When I drew her arms up around my neck, Leigh Anne murmured quietly and hugged me with both arms. I nuzzled her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. That was the moment I knew.

When the hug ended and I sat up, a radiant smile emerged on her face. Her hand reached for mine. Wordlessly she drew it up over her pajama top to her chest and, sitting with an erection stiff in my pajamas, I gently caressed the small firm pad that had begun to shape her areolae into sensitive breast buds. It was a purely sexual action. It was hugely arousing.

I watched a most beautiful sight. I watched arousal steal into Leigh Anne's watchful eyes, her breath deepening, nostrils flaring. Caressing her with gentleness I bent and kissed my little girl again, softly, her lips warm and silky. We inhaled each other's breath.

"Love you," I whispered when the sweetest kiss ended.

"Love you, too," she whispered back.

That was all. It was enough. In the bathroom I took myself in hand and for the very first time gave in to an illicit desire. I masturbated to visions of my daughter, the sensuality of that kiss, and the feel of exciting small buds, imagining us naked together, Leigh Anne caressing my erection. I came breathtakingly hard in a wave after wave of utter pleasure.

That event was repeated frequently over the next few months; a soft kiss and gentle caress of little buds that slowly grew in size and prominence. Our cuddling on the couch became more risqué as well. With Karen occupied on the phone, by her iPad, or reading a fashion magazine, Leigh Anne would quietly pull my arm over her shoulder and inch my hand up her stomach to her chest. My thumb would find and caress her tiny boob held inside a sexy training bra. Doing it while Karen was in the room added a thrill of excitement to the action. The risk of getting caught was intoxicating.

Leigh Anne announced her period with great pride one evening after school. She'd turned twelve only a couple of months before. If anything, knowing my little girl was now fertile excited and aroused me even more. Our touching never changed. She'd rest my hand on her thigh, her hand over mine almost possessively. We'd steal a small touch of her growing little breasts over a T-shirt. At night I'd stop into her bedroom, sit at her side and kiss sweet silken lips while caressing her, growing erect every time. Leigh Anne's nipples started to respond to my touch, becoming beaded and hard under my thumb pad. I loved it. I adored the gentle sensuality that was emerging, an intimacy that both thrilled and aroused.

Surprisingly, we never talked about what we were doing. Leigh Anne instinctively understood that the intimate side to our relationship had to be kept a secret. She demonstrated her awareness in how she behaved when Karen was around and the subtle ways she demonstrated her affection to me; small caresses of my hand, cuddling close and sighing quietly so only I could hear, and checking where Karen was looking before drawing my hand close to her newly forming breasts as I hugged her.

With the onset of her periods we played basketball every evening until she was sweating from exertion. She claimed it really did help with cramps. But she also confessed, when the cramps were particularly bad, she wished I'd rub her lower tummy on my nightly visits. The concept excited me. It was another step in our secret relationship. So one night when I kissed her gently I asked how she was feeling.

"It hurts," she replied, taking my hand.

I let her draw my hand away from her chest and place it over her lower stomach. She blushed slightly.

"Better?" I asked, rubbing her gently.

She nodded. "Maybe you could do it under the covers?" she suggested, her blush deepening.

When I raised my hand, Leigh Anne drew the covers down. I discovered my little girl was wearing only pajama tops and simple white cotton panties and it was quite the sexiest sight. I developed an erection when I saw her panties were distorted at the gusset by a feminine pad. It had my blood racing, heart pounding. Rubbing her lower tummy over her pajama top and panties I let myself appreciate the sensual arousal she stirred in me. It was simply exquisite, seeing the forbidden heightening my pleasure. I was fascinated by how plump her small mons appeared, how it stretched the soft cotton of her panties so sensually. The outline of her pad did things to me.

The edge of her panties moved under my rubbing palm. I fought an urge to reach down and cup my daughter's pussy, but my erection raged as I imagined doing it.

Still so young and slender, so delicate and pretty, her breasts delightfully small, Leigh Anne exuded sensuality like no other female I'd known. Her fertility was a powerful aphrodisiac and the contrast with her youth only made her more desirable. She was a deeply alluring presence in my life; sweet innocence testing her emerging sexual appeal. I longed to edge my rubbing palm lower onto the mound of her pussy. I longed to cup my little girl and feel that pad in her crotch. I longed for Leigh Anne unlike I'd longed for anyone in my life.

"How's that feel?" I asked.

"Much better," she replied softly, her hand resting on top of mine.

When my mind begged her to push my hand down, when I thought she actually might, I stopped, kissed her lips gently and drew the covers up.

"Night, Sweetheart."

"Night, Daddy," she responded.

I masturbated furiously in the bathroom to a powerful orgasm, my eyes tightly shut picturing her cotton panties and that feminine hygiene pad and that pouty mound and imagining touching my little girl intimately.

The single event that changed everything happened when Leigh Anne was twelve and a half. We were well into a sexy yet still innocent relationship; our little secret. There was an invisible barrier holding me back from encouraging or initiating. It was a small fatherly worry that I might be instigating this, leading her, or making her do something for me in order to get my love. Up to this point the unusual relationship I had with Leigh Anne had been dictated by her - with no resistance by me. She let me know what she was comfortable with. She placed my hand where she wanted, even when she felt shy and blushed. I reassured her of my pleasure every step of the way, telling her how much I loved it, how beautiful she was, how much I loved her, and how exciting and sensual she was becoming. I had no hesitation in doing those things, either. None. As long as she was in the driver's seat and I detected no trepidation, I was happy to go with the flow. No relationship in my life had been so stimulating, so arousing, so erotic and full of possibilities. I ached for my daughter and loved the ache. I desired her and loved the desire. She enchanted me; a perfect blend of youth and innocence and purity, and sexual awareness and exploration and sweet excitement. It was an addictive blend that wouldn't be possible in anyone other than my daughter at her age.

The major event came out of the blue. It was Sunday. We'd gone to the movies together - a matinée, Karen off at the club playing tennis. When leaving the mall cinema we found the car was oven-hot from sitting in the intense Californian summer sun. We opened the doors to air it out to the point where we could actually get in and, waiting for that moment, we both sat on the grassy parking lot divider in the shade of an anemic tree. Leigh Anne spoke.

"Dad, could you make an appointment for me to see Dr. Marikh?"

Dr. Marikh was our East Indian family doctor, a wiry and energetic middle aged man. "Why? Are you sick? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill?" I asked with sudden concern.

Leigh Anne blushed and looked down at the grass. "I'm not feeling ill. It's not that."

There was a pause. I waited for Leigh Anne to speak, finally encouraging her. "Then what is it? Why do you need to see him?"

Leigh Anne's thick raven hair hid her face as she looked down at the grass, arms wrapping her bent knees. "I thought maybe I could ask him to prescribe the pill for me."

Silence followed. I digested her comment. It hit me. Was this was my daughter's way of telling me she wanted to go further, to explore our unspoken relationship fully? It caused an immediate reaction, a hard reaction. It was a watershed moment. I could say no and keep things the way they were, be responsible, or I could succumb to my desires, agree and hopefully experience . . .

Leigh Anne was still blushing when I gently tilted her face up to look at me. Lord she was just so pretty, so, so desirable. My eyes searched her dark-gray eyes. "Are you sure about this, Honey?" I asked.

Beautiful eyes looked at me, full of yearning, sweetly loving. "Uh-huh," she nodded. "I've been thinking about it almost every night after you leave me," she said very quietly. "Would you want to . . .?" she asked, blushing, her voice trailing off, eyes watching me. "I mean, is it something you'd . . .?"

Reaching out, I pulled Leigh Anne to my side, hugging her. I kissed her silky raven hair. "Yes, Sweetheart. More than anything in the world," I said.

Despite an immediate and powerful desire that crashed into me, I took a deep breath, calming myself. This was huge. This was a major step. There was no turning back after it had been taken, and God I wanted to take that step with her so badly. Sex with my little girl? God yes!

"I'll book an appointment," I said, hugging her tightly.

Leigh Anne flushed, a sweet shy yet pleased smile emerging.

A war battled inside me. It was a war between two competing desires. One argued strongly for me to buy a condom and sneak into my daughter's bedroom one night soon, now that I knew she was open to it. The other arguing for making it special for her, something she'd remember fondly for the rest of her life. And, selfishly, I wanted my daughter to experience so much pleasure she'd want more and more. A business problem resolved the issue - an International patent infringement case.

First I had to suffer through the embarrassment of taking Leigh Anne to our family doctor. He was a slender and tall man, mid-thirties, dark skinned with a bright white smile, a wonderful sense of humor and a comfortable bedside manner. I explained Leigh Anne had my permission to take birth control pills. Leigh Anne blushed furiously when the doctor explained she'd need a gynecological exam before he could prescribe anything.

At that announcement I fled the examination room feeling hot myself. Silently I thanked the Gods Leigh Anne was still a virgin. What would Dr. Marikh have thought if she wasn't? Sitting in the waiting room I reviewed the plans I'd made. I was feeling very pleased with my Machiavellian scheme. The only unknown would be Karen's response but I was reasonably confident I knew how she'd react.

Over dinner I announced the plan.

"Leigh Anne, you're turning thirteen, becoming a teenager in a couple of months. It's a momentous occasion so I want to celebrate it by doing something special."

Karen glanced at me with interest. Leigh Anne's eyes were large and studying me. "Like what?"

"I have to visit a client in Paris and I thought, since I have to make the trip, I'd take a few extra days and we'd all . . ."

"Paris?" Leigh Anne exclaimed breathlessly in awe. "As in Paris, France?"

"Yes. You've never been, have you, Karen?" I asked.

I watched her thinking. She smiled. Man, she really was a blonde beauty at times. It was such a shame she was so self-involved.

"Actually, I have been to Paris," she said. "It's an exciting city. When would this trip happen?"

"The week of August 5th. Leigh Anne's birthday is the 8th," I reminded her, not surprised she'd forgotten.

Karen responded immediately. "I can't. Not that week. That's the tennis tournament week. I can't back out of the woman's doubles now. Not this late." Turning to Leigh Anne she apologized. It actually sounded sincere, too.

The excitement that emerged in Leigh Anne's eyes was wonderful. She understood the significance. I felt her excitement, too. And Karen's response was exactly what I'd hoped for.

Chapter Two: Loving

LEIGH ANNE WAS ON cloud nine. She couldn't stop smiling or feeling flushed despite the fatigue. She'd been in a constant state of excitement and nervousness for the whole trip. She couldn't believe it. Paris! It was just so romantic!

Glancing out the taxi window she ignored the drizzle and low-hanging gray clouds. Their gloom couldn't ruin her mood. Holding Dad's hand she stared at the sights.

"Look, Dad. The Arc de Triomphe!" she exclaimed excitedly, pointing.

In her chest she had this huge sigh that just wouldn't go away. This was perfect. For the past year and a half she'd let herself pretend it was just her and Dad together again and now it was. It wasn't that she disliked her step-mom. Karen was not really there with them, even when she was in the same room. It was just, Karen, by being there, got in the way.

Now she was alone with Dad and her birthday was only three days away. He'd promised, too, maybe not in words, but in looks and smiles and gentle kisses and tight hugs. Her hands felt damp. Glancing up at him she felt that same rush of love, heat warming her, her heart tripping. Mine. He's mine not hers.

That first time, the very first time Dad had caressed her sore nipples, it had sent a shocking pulse of arousal to her pussy. Sure she'd discovered playing with herself and masturbating to nice, soft, and calming climaxes. But Dad's touch had made her feel completely different. And that night after Dad had caressed her nipples, she'd touched herself and experienced her first agonizing climax, one that hurt it was so hard, leaving her breathless and sweaty and panting.

She loved the sexy play with Dad. She adored his soft dark-gray eyes and the adoration he showered on her. It was so exciting when Dad would respond to her, his excitement and pleasure obvious. She loved his attention. She loved playing basketball with him, knocking and banging against his hard body. And most of all, she loved his kisses late at night, so sexy and loving and arousing.

For the past year she'd sit by his side and pretend he was hers; that Karen wasn't there and that Dad was her lover, that Dad only needed her. She'd get so horny every time he caressed her forming boobs and wished he'd touch her below, too. But the time she'd seen Dad's erection tenting his pajamas, that time after he rubbed her tummy and eased her cramps, his eyes studying her panties, she knew what she wanted. She wanted Dad to make love to her. She wanted Dad to be her first and only. She wanted to make love with him, sleep with him and wake up in his arms and make him happy; happier than Karen could.

That gynecological exam still embarrassed her every time she thought about it. It was so embarrassing exposing herself to Dr. Marikh. But Dad's blush made her smile. He was so sweet about some things.

Leigh Anne watched as the taxi wrestled its way through the traffic circling the Arc de Triomphe. It was so shocking to hear so many horns blaring. Back home you almost never heard car horns. The taxi finally turned down a wide boulevard, Avenue des Champs-Élysées, lined with cafés and restaurants and clothing stores. Turning right into a side street, the taxi pulled up to a big, white marble hotel. A man in uniform stepped over to open the taxi door, doffing his hat.

"Et voila," the Lebanese taxi driver said. "Trente-cinq Euro."

With Dad fishing out bills, Leigh Anne smiled at the uniformed guy opening the taxi door for her. He returned her smile.

"Bienvenue à l'Hôtel George Cinq, Mademoiselle," he said with a smile.

Leigh Anne couldn't help staring at everything when they entered. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling inside. Polished marble floors had intricate patterns surrounding central circles within circles, gray marble, gold and light yellow marble. A round center table held tall glass vases with cut red trumpet flowers. To the left a large darker gray marble reception waited with a pretty young lady standing behind.

"The concierge," Dad said, smiling.

Holding his hand she let him lead her to the reception desk. She'd never seen such luxury. Five minutes later a whisper-silent elevator was whisking her up to the sixth floor. She paused inside the door to the room. Gawd it was luxurious, all cream and royal blue colors, patterned wallpaper, thick white carpet and antique looking furniture. To the right was the bedroom. She gasped quietly when she saw only one king-sized bed. Her heart raced.

Until that moment, that exact moment, it hadn't really hit her that she was going to be sleeping with Dad. Now it hit. The sight of that bed made it real. Suddenly all sorts of nerves appeared followed by shadows of doubt. Her inexperience might disappoint Dad.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, walking over to draw curtains aside.

Double doors were opened to reveal a small balcony overlooking Paris and there in the distance was the Eiffel Tower. Wow.

"Hungry? Or is it too early to eat dinner?" Dad asked. "Would you like to go for a stroll first?"

"Jeez, Dad. This place is amazing!" Leigh Anne finally exclaimed.

"It is. We can thank Claude Remis for it."

"Who's Claude Remis?" she asked, moving towards the small balcony to look out. To the right she saw the Arc de Triomphe they'd driven around in the taxi.

"He's the client I have to meet tomorrow morning."

"Oh. Okay," Leigh Anne said absentmindedly, her attention still absorbed by the sights and sounds of Paris. She was really here! She was really in Paris! She inhaled the smell of the city deeply.

I HAD A GOOD old laugh when Leigh Anne spotted McDonalds on our stroll and suggested we eat there. I had an even bigger laugh when I took her to the famous Le Fouquet's. She blushed when she leaned in and suggested it sounded like "the fu . . . the fu . . ." and couldn't bring herself to say "fuckers".

Fouquet's was a people watcher café/restaurant. It was quintessentially French with surly waiters, poor service, and outrageously expensive but excellent food. I had a lot of fun at Leigh Anne's expense, suggesting she try my escargots.

"They're snails, Dad! Yuck! How could you?" she exclaimed in disgust, nose wrinkled, refusing a taste.

Dipping a piece of baguette into the indulgent garlic butter, I handed it across to her. She tried it reluctantly, a small nibble, expressed surprise and enjoyment at the taste and proceeded to help herself, dipping bread into my hor-d'oeuvre, her salad forgotten.

By the time we finished dusk was still a couple of hours away. However we were pooped from the flight. Leigh Anne was visibly tiring, eyes looking a bit dopey. All the plans I'd had for us, all the erotic possibilities I'd imagined with great excitement were demolished by fatigue. Leigh Anne managed to change into a nightshirt, brush her teeth and was sound asleep by the time I slipped into bed with her.

Nevertheless, I experienced an exceptional pleasure. I experienced pulling my little girl to me, snuggling to her, inhaling her scent and drifting to sleep with her in my bed, holding my daughter in my arms. Despite fatigue it was astonishingly erotic, made more so by the promise of intimacy to come. It was really quite perfect.

Morning brought noisy traffic, light rain and Leigh Anne smiling shyly at me. Morning brought desire and excitement and an erection. Morning also brought a full bladder and a reminder I had a business meeting in a couple of hours.

"Morning, Honey. I can't imagine a better sight to wake up to," I said, leaning over to kiss her gently. Her warm little lips made my erection ache.

"Morning, Dad," Leigh Anne responded when the brief but full-of-promise kiss ended, the slightest hint of pink emerging high on her cheeks.

"Bathroom's mine," I claimed, rolling out of bed.

By the time room service delivered fried eggs and bacon, life-restoring coffee, croissants, sweet butter, and mini jars of rich raspberry jam, I was dressed for my meeting. Leigh Anne was still in her nightshirt, having only brushed her teeth and hair.

"What should I do while you're gone?" she asked. "And when will you be back?"

"I'll be back after lunch. Until I'm back you should keep to the hotel. Explore. I've left money beside the bed so you can eat in the Hotel restaurant or café. Don't wander out, Honey."

Leigh Anne watched Dad leave half an hour later. She loved how he bent and kissed her gently. It was just like her man was off to work while she waited for him! She still felt a bit horny, too. Dad had had an erection when he got out of bed, his boxers showing a tent. She rushed to shower, suddenly in need of relief.

Dressed, calm, and excited, Leigh Anne looked out at the rain. It was very light, like a mist. Not too bad. She had no intention of staying in the hotel. She was in Paris! She wanted to explore and see the bustling avenue she'd seen last night.

I studied Leigh Anne as she ate dinner; frites with steak. The French version of fries were shoestring thin and well cooked, crispy. The steak glistened from melted Café De Paris butter, a complex but delicious concoction that had been a restaurant secret for over half a century. It was famous in Europe. My steak was rare and melt-in-my-mouth tender, my accompanying glass of red wine rich and full-bodied. The excellent meal wasn't enough to displace my anger, though.

I'd returned from the business meeting, a successful meeting, to find the suite empty. Half an hour of waiting was more than I could handle so I'd canvassed the hotel for Leigh Anne. She was nowhere to be found and, typical for a father of a soon-to-be teenager in a foreign city, my mind started playing hideous games; had she been enticed away from the hotel? Had she been led astray by some guest? Had she been taken? Had she been kidnapped? Was she being tortured even as I looked for her? Had some beast killed her? And, as I charged out the front entrance in a state of panic only a father can experience, Leigh Anne waved to me, strolling down the street towards me with a big smile of welcome.

It had taken a huge effort to swallow my panic and anger. Even the intense relief at seeing her alive didn't displace the knot of anger - really fear - that sat in my gut uncomfortably.

"Leigh Anne," I said, my fork poised with a bite of steak, "you promise to never wander away again, right?"

"Jeez, Dad. I told you. I only walked up and down the street and window shopped."

"Leigh Anne . . ."

She interrupted. "I promise! I told you. What did you think would happen? I'd be kidnapped or something?"

Yes. That's exactly what I thought. "I didn't know where you were and it sca. . . Listen, just stay near me and make me happy, okay?"

"Kay. These fries are really good. How come we can't get them at home?"

A long lazy walk after dinner to digest food finally dissipated my anger. Leigh Anne holding my hand and leaning against my arm had a lot to do with it. So did her enthusiasm. Darkness arrived with the winking on of streetlights and glowing shop windows. My daughter became quite fixated on each clothing shop, pausing and commenting, laughing or breathlessly drawing my attention to some item or other. I couldn't appreciate the clothes that seemed to make her giddy. I had the fashion sense of a three-toed sloth and about the same enthusiasm, too. But I adored her excitement and made a mental note to bring her clothes shopping tomorrow before we went sightseeing.

It was late when we arrived back at the George Cinq. The doorman tipped his hat and smiled, opening the door for Leigh Anne. The ride up the elevator was made in silence. I was feeling rather exhausted. It had been a busy day; a business meeting, panic over Leigh Anne not being around, and a filling dinner with that glass of wine. But fatigue melted away when the room door closed behind us. Suddenly I was in a beautiful hotel suite with my beautiful daughter. Suddenly excitement came storming in. And so did awkwardness. How did one initiate intimacy? Leigh Anne might have suffered the same hesitant thoughts, too. She stood at my side staring at the room.

"How about bed?" I suggested. "I'm kinda tired."

"Kay," she agreed with relief.

Ten minutes later I'd brushed my teeth and, stripped down to boxers, was in bed, my heart thumping with excited anticipation. Noise of traffic and taxi horns filtered up from a bustling city that never slept. The toilet flushed behind a closed door and a tap started. Leigh Anne had slipped by me when I'd emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

The sheets were freshly laundered and had that clean, crisp "hotel" feel about them. The pillows were thick and fluffy. Fatigue faded away at the prospect of having my daughter sleep with me again. Arousal stormed in when she emerged from the bathroom.

She wore nothing fancy yet what she wore was amazing. Dark-gray eyes watched for a reaction, sweet hesitancy on her pretty face. Dark raven hair had been pulled into a long ponytail that fell forward over one shoulder. Leigh Anne looked stunningly sexy and edible. The palest pink camisole with spaghetti straps snuggly conformed to her young, slender developing body emphasizing the stunningly sexy sight of perfectly formed yet delightfully small breasts. The camisole ended two inches above the palest pink panties revealing the silky skin of her tummy. Those panties hugged my little girl. Light from the bedside lamp cast shadows over her pussy, emphasizing the sensual shape of a twelve-year-old mound. A shadow filled a heart-stopping little camel toe. Elastic at the legs disappeared into deeply arousing creases at each side making her pubis look prominent and ripe and sexy; so desirable.

The way Leigh Anne paused for me to look at her made my erection strain. I watched her hands twitch at her side as if she didn't know what to do with them. I studied her face; sweet longing mixed with nervousness. Leigh Anne was gorgeous.

"You look absolutely beautiful and so sexy," I told her with a soft smile, lifting the covers for her. "Come to bed."

Her pleased smile dazzled me. She moved like a young gazelle, running and slipping into bed, sliding across into my welcoming arms. I held my little girl, warm, almost naked, soft and cuddly and all sexy, smelling of soap and minty toothpaste. I held her gently, an erection aching at the feel of her slender, intensely arousing young body pressed against me. I kissed her gently and quite drowned when my hand found the sweetest little bum in the world, so petite and sexy.

I kissed her carefully, very softly, just lips brushing against each other. It was wonderfully arousing. I caressed a succulent little buttock and eased my knee between her legs, drawing her young body even closer, tight, my erection pressed to her.

Kissing her gently, Leigh Anne's arm moved up to drape over me. Her murmur was almost silent. Watching her eyes close as if she was drowning in my kiss, I succumbed to desire and touched my little girl's lips with my tongue tentatively, the first step in a French kiss.

Leigh Anne's response was physical and exciting. She actually trembled against me, her arm reaching around me to hug me tightly. But the best part was my little girl opening her mouth for me.

I could never have prepared for the eroticism of kissing my daughter. It was so different from a mature woman. Leigh Anne was slender and beautifully delicate in my arms. She let me probe into her moist mouth sending waves of excitement through me, her tongue hesitantly responding with the slightest brush against mine. And through the kiss she murmured a quiet, "Mmm," at me driving my arousal higher. French kissing my daughter was so damned erotic.

I knew she could feel the erection pressed between us and wondered what she thought of feeling her father like that. The kiss ended with a sigh. Her eyes opening to look into mine with hesitancy and shyness and excitement and pleasure. It was clear she didn't know what to do next or what to expect.

"Are you okay with this?" I asked softly, caressing her cheek with my thumb.

"Uh-huh. I'm a bit nervous," she admitted.

"There's nothing to be nervous about. Just relax, Honey. We're not going to be having intercourse tonight," I said.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "But I thought . . ."

I smiled in response. "It's not your thirteenth birthday yet. Besides, there are so many interesting things to do before then."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you a secret," I said, leaning in and kissing her soft cheek. "I've fantasized about us being together like this except in my fantasy we were naked."

Leigh Anne looked into my eyes. She blushed. "I dreamed about you, too."

I immediately wondered what a twelve-year-old girl fantasized about. "Tell me," I encouraged with a smile.

"I can't. It's a bit embarrassing."

Understanding I needed to ease her nervousness, I settled on my back at her side and rolled her to me. Leigh Anne's head found the crook of my shoulder, her knee slipping over my leg. I stroked her back slowly.

"Let me tell you what I've fantasized about. It's all about you, Honey. You're just so beautiful. You've always been beautiful. But since you've started maturing you've flowered into this incredibly sexy young lady. I can't remember ever being more attracted to anyone."

"Even more than Karen?" Leigh Anne asked with surprise.

"A hundred times more," I said with a hug. "But here are my secrets. I've imagined making love with you so many times and every time I'd get so aroused I'd have to . . . well, you know, relieve myself.

"I've fantasized about having you in bed with me; just like this," I said giving her a loving squeeze. "And I've imagined holding you in my arms, together, both of us naked. In my fantasies I get to teach you everything about sex and loving. I imagine being able to kiss every inch of your beautiful body. I've wondered what it would be like to see you naked, to touch and caress you, and to see you experience a climax, and every time I'd think of you I'd get aroused."

I kissed the top of her head. "I've even fantasized about you and I having sex in all sorts of different places."

Leigh Anne's hand caressed my chest. "Like where?" she asked, her voice more relaxed, her knee rubbing my leg slightly.

My hand found her sensual little bottom and rubbed gently. "Well, I've fantasized about us having sex in the kitchen right after breakfast with you on the kitchen table while Karen is still asleep upstairs. In another fantasy Karen's not there and I find you in the kitchen cooking and wearing nothing but an apron and maybe sexy panties and we'd get so horny we'd make love on the kitchen floor."

Leigh Anne giggled softly. "Really? You'd like that?"

"Are you kidding? What a turn on it would be. And then there's the TV fantasy."

"What's that one?" Leigh Anne asked, her voice full of curiosity, shyness now displaced.

"That's the one where we watch television together and you're sitting on my lap. I'm hugging you. You're wearing your nightshirt. You know the one; that long one with the angry Donald Duck on it? And, when Karen walks in she doesn't know that you have no panties on. And she doesn't know we're actually having sex." My erection bobbed inside the boxers, nodding up and down at the imagery. "And somehow we have to make love while Karen's watching TV or on her cell phone. What about you?" I asked. "What have you fantasized about?"

I slipped my fingertips under the waist of her little panties, traced the beginning swell of her sensual buttocks and the sexy valley between. She pressed her pussy to me in a rubbing motion.

"Mine's really embarrassing," Leah Anne said with her face turned down, her hand stroking my stomach.

"Even better," I said with a smile. "Do tell. Please?" I begged.

Silence followed. Leigh Anne took a deep breath and sighed. "Promise you won't think I'm weird or dirty, Dad?"

"Never. I promise."

"Kay. After you'd leave at night, I would touch myself under my panties and pretend it was your hand touching me and making me feel good."

"That doesn't sound weird or dirty. It sounds sexy," I said.

"That's not the part I was talking about. I used to pretend you'd stop touching me and kiss me gently. You'd whisper "Touch yourself for me, Sweetheart. Undress and show me how you touch yourself", and then you'd sit on the chair in my room and watch me.

"I'd play with my . . . my . . . pussy and pretend you were sitting on the chair watching me. You'd tell me to take my panties off and I would. It always excited me to pretend you were watching. I would diddle myself for you and, when I was close, you'd say "cum, Princess, cum for Daddy," and I'd cum really hard every time."

I had a handful of Leigh Anne's sweet buttock, slightly cool and silky in my palm. I had a raging erection and an emerging damp spot just from picturing her masturbating for me. It sounded like Leigh Anne had inherited some exhibitionist gene from me. I could just picture her playing with herself while staring at me. Jeez, it was sexy.

"Leigh Anne, I can't begin to tell you how sexy that is," I said. "Promise me we can do it sometime."

"Kay. Promise."

Her hand moved down lightly, hesitantly, in fits and starts as if she wanted to touch my erection but was nervous. I took it and guided it, placing it over my boxers to rest on top of the outline of my erection. It pulsed and bobbed against her hand.

"It's okay, Honey. You can explore it. I want you to touch me."

"Kay," she whispered, her hand caressing the shaft lightly with the palm of her hand.

Arousal was storming through me. Leigh Anne's gentle, hesitant touch was driving me crazy. Just the idea that my little girl was touching me intimately was thrilling. But tonight, here in Paris with the two of us alone, I wanted more.

"Sweetheart," I said, kissing her hair lightly, "would it be okay for us to undress and touch each other? I really want to see your body."

Her hand paused. For a brief moment in time I wondered if she'd changed her mind. My erection begged her not to.

"Kay," she answered, her face turning up to look at me.

She had such a sweet innocent yearning in her expression, tinged with a hint of embarrassment - the slightest hint of pink on her cheek bones. Beautiful dark-gray eyes looked at me with such adoration I felt it in my chest, a tight constricting band.

"No," I said, reaching out to stop her hands when they reached for the bottom of her pale pink camisole. "Please, let me."

This was it. I had a thundering desire to undress my little girl, to reveal her naked, pubescent glory to my eyes, to finally see what her sexy little body really looked like. It was an ache inside me, thrilling and exciting; something I'd fantasized about for more than a year. She watched my face intently before smiling slightly, her hands falling to her side.

"Thank you," I whispered, kissing her soft cheek.

Undressing my daughter was pure eroticism. It was a forbidden pleasure that only the luckiest few could experience. Rising to my side I rolled her onto her back. Caressing her from her knee up, I stared at her beautifully expressive eyes. I saw them narrow slightly when my palm lightly passed over the sensual swell of her panty-covered mons. She stared at me, watching my expression as my hand found the hem of her pale pink camisole and drew it up. She arched her back for me. I stopped before her petite breasts were revealed and caressed the silky soft skin of her stomach. Twelve-year-old bodies are a marvel of nature. They are at once firm and young, yet silky soft and warm. Leigh Anne's hips were so narrow and bony, still not mature; remarkably prominent when lying on her back. Her stomach was silky smooth and flat, firm under pressure, skin unblemished. I shuddered with excitement when I saw how large my hand was compared to her slender body. It reinforced her youth making it intensely erotic to me.

Turning my eyes to hers, I held her gaze and watched while slipping my hand up under her cotton camisole, up further, my erection straining with excitement. Her beautiful dark-gray eyes narrowed slightly and, when I finally, finally held my little girl's petite bare breast in my palm, her eyes closed gently, her hand rising to rest over mine, separated by a soft cotton camisole.

Leigh Anne's breast was a thing of perfection. It was deliciously small and firm reminding me of a two-bite brownie, full of youth, screaming sexy pubescence at me. Yet it yielded sensually to my caress, her soft nipple so exciting. I explored, lost in the incredible sensation, cupping her gently, squeezing softly, my thumb teasing her soft nipple. Blindly I measured the steep-sloped sides, so amazingly pert. My erection strained, ached, leaked.

Bending, I kissed my little girl gently. "You have the most beautiful breasts," I whispered, reluctantly letting it go and reaching for the camisole. "Lift up," I instructed.

Leigh Anne opened her eyes and stared into mine, no discernible expression on her face. She first arched her back up and I tugged the pale pink camisole up. She raised her arms above her head and I eased the camisole off, teasing myself by resisting the urge to look down at her breasts.

I kissed her again gently, inhaling her sweet, fresh breath. Her arms reached around my neck. She tilted her head slightly and opened her mouth, a small tongue emerging, touching mine gently, just the tips. I drowned in her kiss, my eyes closing, every sense concentrating on her.

My hand found her petite breast again and covered it. When I squeezed carefully Leigh Anne moaned into my mouth, her arms tightening around my neck. Leigh Anne's response was perfect.

I still hadn't seen her breasts, too absorbed in her kiss to end it. Slipping my hand down her side I found the waist of her panties at her bony hip. Leigh Anne rolled her pelvis, lifting her side in an invitation to slip her panties down. I did, one side at a time, my heart racing. I was undressing my little girl! Anticipation made my cock ache and pulse.

Leigh Anne completed the act by kicking her panties off.

Still kissing her I reached for my boxers, sliding them down, the tip of my cock pressing against Leigh Anne's side. I shuddered deeply when a small hand found and gently held my shaft. It broke the kiss. I needed to gasp.

"Jesus that feels good, Leigh Anne," I whispered.

Finally, finally, I rose onto an elbow and, on my side, looked at her naked body. My cock flexed in her hand feeling thick and rigid. She was utter perfection, stunningly sexy, budding pubescence at its finest. Petite twin breasts rose majestically on her chest, conical and topped with pale pink areolae and soft, sexy nipples. A flat, almost concave stomach drew my eyes to prominent narrow hip bones and, gasping, my little girl's pussy; a magnificent mound rising seductively at the juncture of her thighs, the top dusted with glossy jet-black pubic hairs. Not yet a full bush, the hairs were individually visible, only slightly curled with the onset of puberty. Her succulent mound plunged down in a sexy vee with deep creases at each side, and in the middle, a heart-stopping cleft, labia dusted with pubes and cuddling her clitoral hood.

Breathing was hard. My pulse raced. I actually felt my hand trembling with excitement. Glancing back at her face I smiled. "You are absolute perfection," I told her. "The sexiest girl I've ever seen."

Leigh Anne smiled with pride and a hint of relief, it seemed. Her hand gently squeezed my shaft and a pulse of pleasure hit me.

"Can I touch you, too?" I asked.

She nodded yes, her eyes so watchful, so observant.

God but her sweet little pussy was warm, sensually formed, almost plump on her young body. She parted her legs when I cupped it and I shook at the touch. Leigh Anne's pussy was, despite how it looked, so erotically small in my hand, so young, intensely arousing. Her pubes were soft and silky, her little bush full enough to tickle my palm. I squeezed her, fingers burrowing into the creases at either side, my middle finger pressing against her short cleft. My mind raced. I was holding my little girl's pussy! I was touching my child! And my God it was spectacular.

"Leigh Anne," I whispered, a deep pulse of arousal hitting me when the tip of my middle finger discovered silky moisture, Leigh Anne's arousal, my twelve-year-old's arousal! Curling my finger, my hand actually trembling, I slipped the tip between sensual, soft labia. They hugged it in a moist grip and Leigh Anne's eyes narrowed, her expression one of concentration, her hand tightening on my shaft. I touched her little clitoris and caressed gently, just the tip of my finger, slippery and silky, so small.

Leigh Anne's eyes closed slowly, nose flaring as she inhaled deeply. Caressing her little clit, I bent and kissed her petite breast, slipping my lips over her areola and sucking gently. Leigh Anne gripped my shaft tightly, inhaled sharply, her pelvis twitching. I teased her soft nipple, thrilled when it responded and started to harden. Opening my mouth wider I took her petite breast into my mouth, the whole thing. I sucked hard.

Leigh Anne writhed and moaned loudly, her hand now gripping my shaft, almost tugging it as she writhed. I ached for release. I ached for a stroke.

Still caressing her sweet pussy and rubbing her clit, I took her other breast into my mouth and gave it the same treatment, ending with a hard suck. Leigh Anne groaned again and pressed her pussy up into my palm.

"How does this feel?" I asked softly.

Eyes closed, Leigh Anne didn't answer verbally. Instead her free hand reached down to cover mine, pressing it harder against her pussy. She found my middle finger and guided it down to her entrance buried deep in her cleft. Hot moisture greeted me. A warm wet grip hugged my fingertip to the first knuckle. Her nostrils flared, breathing hard. Jesus, my finger was inside her! I was actually penetrating my little girl's vagina! Too quickly she pulled it out and guided it back to her clit, showing me how to rub it, a side-to-side motion.

Gradually I took over, rubbing harder, faster. I alternated between looking down at her sexy little body, glancing at my daughter actually holding my thick erection, and how her fingers couldn't meet her thumb, and staring at Leigh Anne's face, a map of fascinating emotions. She seemed to breathe deeply then hold her breath, gasp, inhale deeply, stomach tensing. A rosy flush emerged above her little breasts, her back arching slightly as if straining.

I rubbed her clit faster, side-to-side, masturbating her, then, unable to resist, I bent and took her sexy breast into my mouth again, sucking the whole delicious thing, my tongue teasing her nipple, loving how firm her little breast was. My lips slid up until I had just her areola and I sucked again.

Leigh Anne grunted loudly. She held her breath. Her body paused, straining up. Her small hand gripped my shaft tightly. Suddenly she cried out, "Daddy!" Her body bounced, heaving. Breath gasped as if starved of air. She cried out, "Daddy!" again and started writhing, grunting and panting, her pussy suddenly very, very slippery and moist. I watched the amazing spectacle of an almost thirteen-year-old climaxing, sweet agony on her face, body alternating between cramping and relaxing, cramping and relaxing. It was beautiful; unrestrained pleasure on display. It was deeply, deeply sexy.

Leigh Anne demonstrated her waning climax by reaching down to hold my hand, stopping my caress. Lying quietly, she breathed deeply and slowly calmed. I bent and kissed each eyelid. Her eyes opened to look at me, eyes soft and full of satisfaction, beautiful eyes. No words were spoken. We just looked at each other for a minute or two.

Finally I spoke softly. "Thank you. That was so beautiful."

Leigh Anne smiled. Her smile faded. Her hand squeezed. "You're still hard," she observed. "Didn't you . . .?"

"No, I didn't," I answered, caressing her cheek, bending and kissing it. With my mouth close to her I said, "I was too taken by your beautiful climax."

She blushed slightly and smiled. "It was a really strong one. But isn't it your turn now? What should I do?" she asked.

Still on my side, erection aching in her hand, Leigh Anne on her back, I suggested she stroke it. "Like this," I said, guiding her hand up and down my shaft.

We both stared down. The tip was glistening with precum. I guided her small hand up and over the tip, drawing precum down.

"It's slippery," she observed, shaking off my hand and stroking. Every-so-often her hand caressed the crown gathering more precum, stoking my thick shaft, squeezing experimentally to feel how rigid I was.

I felt my climax stir. The sight of being fondled by a small hand, by my little girl, was deeply arousing, intensely erotic, made more so by her naked body on the bed next to me. I knew when I came I'd be cumming all over her sexy body, maybe even over her plump pussy and that excited me even more.

Kissing my daughter gently, I whispered to her, "Almost there."

Her strokes sped up. My cock swelled.

Leigh Anne whispered, "I want to see you cum, Daddy," and I did, immediately, forcefully.

Semen rocketed up and exploded in a long thick rope, splashing down over my little girl's sexy pussy. The sight of pearlescent adult cum on her intensified my orgasm, another blindingly pleasurable eruption wracking my body, thick cum spurting and covering her mons leaving a trail back to her side.

"Stroke me," I urged desperately when her hand paused. She stroked. Another achingly pleasurable, almost painful rope exploded hitting her farthest thigh and pussy, partially obscuring her sparse black pubic hairs; so damned erotic! My heart raced. I gasped for air. My cock swelled and spit semen in ever shorted spurts, pure ecstasy hitting me with each glorious explosion until, too soon, my climax passed, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness, sweet relief, peace and calm.

Leigh Anne's hand stopped when I stopped spurting. I was still engorged. And despite the very satisfying climax, I was mentally horny. I couldn't stop staring. I couldn't remember seeing anything so sexy and arousing. It made no sense, but seeing my daughter's pussy covered in thick white semen did something to me. It was a sight I wanted to remember forever and repeat again and again. The dichotomy of a barely pubescent, lightly haired, adolescent pussy covered in adult cum was thrillingly erotic.

"It's really hot," Leigh Anne said, breaking my transfixed stare. "I didn't know it would be that hot."

Reaching blindly behind me I found a hand towel I'd placed there for just such an eventuality. "That, my love, was fantastic," I said, gently wiping cum off her. "It felt wonderful."

"It's thick, too. Can I feel it?" she asked, her hand reaching down to the last small pool of cum. She explored the texture between fingertips. "It's so slippery." Bringing her fingers to her nose, she smelled and wrinkled her nose.

Cleaned up, gloriously naked, and light out, I hugged Leigh Anne to me, pulling the covers over us. She rolled in my arms, facing away and pressing her sexy little bum back at me. It was an absolute pleasure to hold my naked little girl in my arms, her body comfortably warm and so deliciously petite against me.

"I like being naked together like this," she said softly. "I had a good day today, Dad."

"Me, too. Night, Sweetheart." I had a smile on my face as I fell asleep feeling like I'd won the lottery.

Chapter Three: Anticipating a Birthday

Wednesday morning arrived in spectacular form. Somehow during the night I'd rolled onto my back away from Leigh Anne. Leigh Anne was sprawled on the bed on her front, legs thrown out, one arm hanging off the bed, the other partly under my chest, her raven hair a tangled mess hiding her face. The covers had slipped down revealing her sculpted back, the sensual slope to the base of her spine and, just visible, the upsweep of a perfectly smooth young bum. I reached over and tugged the covers to the top of her succulent ass, staring at the sexy valley and gorgeous relaxed buttocks.

On my stomach my erection bobbed up and down, a morning woodie intensified by the allure of Leigh Anne's partially naked bum. I wanted to kiss each cheek. Her little breast was pressed to the mattress, bulging out slightly. In the morning light I saw fine body hair; darker on her arms, light and almost invisible on her lower back at the base of her spine. She had two dimples above her buttocks, small but there.

My erection strained, swelled, ached for attention. This, I thought, I'd give anything for. To wake up with my little girl naked in bed with me was powerfully arousing and pleasing. How would I be able to go back to having Karen in bed?

"Morning, Dad."

Two dark-gray eyes peered at me. She'd woken without moving. A smile emerged taking my breath away. When she yawned, stretched and rolled over onto her back revealing two sexy, firm, pert little breasts, I wanted to grab her and make love to her. The urge was powerful. She was such a desirable and sexy kitten and mine, all mine.

LEIGH ANNE INHALED DEEPLY and couldn't stop smiling. She decided waking up to see Dad smiling at her was fantastic! But, even better was being naked with him and feeling good about it, no shyness or apprehension. All the uncertainty she'd lived with, all the worry that she'd disappoint Dad somehow, or be too inexperienced, or too childish when together, seemed to have evaporated last night. Kissing and touching each other had been great. Dad's look of wonder at her naked body still sent shivers of pleasure through her. His touch was so different from her own; much more exciting and a lot more arousing. But gawd, his kisses and sucking her breasts and touching her pussy and making her cum so hard was amazing.

Glancing at him she smiled, a twinge of arousal hitting her when she noticed the tent in the covers. Dad had an erection! Moving towards him, she cuddled to him, smelling his manly scent. She hooked her knee up over him, edging it up towards his crotch. Her nipples tingled where they pressed to his side. There was something so thrilling about seeing Dad horny and erect. The memory of holding him, so thick and rigid, almost alive when it spurted cum over her, made Leigh Anne's pussy clench. She wanted Dad. She wanted proper sex. She wanted to feel him inside, be filled with him, Daddy her first and only lover. She was horny, really, really horny.

Reaching under the covers, she found his erection, holding the thick shaft gently. "Daddy? Can we make love properly?" she asked.

"No. That's something special for your birthday tomorrow," he said in a strained voice. "But we can do something close to it."

"What?"

His sexy smile broadened. "Sit on top of me." His hands shoved the covers down.

Leigh Anne studied his erection, excitingly thick and hard, pointing up from his groin. She looked up at him.

"Go on," he encouraged. "Sit on it," he added with a boyish grin.

She smiled at his grin, sat up and straddled him, her knees to his sides. From above Dad's erection seemed huge and thick where it protruded from her crotch. His warm hands took her hips and guided her to sit. She shuddered, nipples puckering, a flush of heat cascading through her when her pussy carefully settled on his shaft, pressing to her clit with a sharp spark of pleasure. The moan was involuntary. Gaaaawd this feels good!

THE SIGHT OF LEIGH ANNE astride me was jaw-droppingly sexy. Just holding her narrow hips emphasized her youth and immaturity and intensified my desire. The feel of her soft pussy and the way it rested on my aching erection, her labia puffed out and hugging the shaft, her little clit peeking at me, my crown red and inflamed, almost induced a climax. That little pubic bush was so damned sexy. But when Leigh Anne moved slightly and inhaled sharply I almost lost it.

Her succulent plump pussy edged up my erection to bulge and mold itself over the crown. I guided her hips back, the crown emerging glistening with precum and Leigh Anne's moisture, suddenly everything slippery, silky, erotic.

Leigh Anne trembled, head bowed, her eyes riveted to my erection. She placed her palms on my stomach for support, sexy little breasts riding perkily on her chest, squeezed by her upper arms, areolae flushed a deeper pink. I moved her hips again, up, down. Damn, so arousing. She shuddered, her knees gripping my side.

Before I could guide her again she took the lead, drawing her slippery pussy up, then down, up, down, body trembling, sexy labia caressing my shaft. It was the closest thing to intercourse I'd felt, her sexy movements, her glorious nakedness, morning sex. I wanted to let her hips go and caress her breasts. I wanted to kiss her breasts, kiss her, hold her hips, pull her down hard onto my erection. I wanted my little girl. I wanted to penetrate her, take her, fill her, make her mine! God I wanted.

Thinking about all the things I wanted only drove my desire higher. Leigh Anne started moving faster, back and forth, back and forth, her little pussy caressing my shaft, stroking me, stroking me. Fuck!

"Cumming, Baby!" I gasped, cock swelling, semen spurting out weakly, pleasure slamming into me.

It seemed to drive Leigh Anne over the edge. She gasped, "Daddy," and went wild, scrubbing her pussy on my spurting cock. I came again, this time a long rope arching up to my chest, exquisite pleasure.

Leigh Anne gasped again, "Daddy," and collapsed onto me, her small body jerking and trembling, pussy scrubbing, humping me, my cock spurting thick, hot cum between us.

I held her small bottom and hunched, fucking her, my erection sliding effortlessly between us, spurting, cumming, cumming, hugging my darling, cumming blissfully.

Twenty-five miles from downtown I walked with Leigh Anne's hand in mine. The Palace of Versailles was a vast château covering acres of land. The interior offered a unique glimpse into the lives of royalty in the seventeenth century. Room after room was attached to each other. Where we had halls with rooms off the hall, the palace had doors adjoining each room. One could look down through fifteen doorways, through fifteen rooms to see the windows overlooking the gardens. It showed a different type of privacy lived by royalty. There was none. Servants would have to come and go through rooms while occupied. Then again, the servants were probably invisible to the Royals.

Great halls arched up into high painted ceilings. Intricate gilded frescoes adorned them. Crystal chandeliers hung on long chins providing light. Huge arched glass doors filled the walls left and right, polished marble echoing from footsteps.

In the gardens fountains were in abundance; classical ornate fountains, statues, scenes of rampaging horses pulling a chariot, angels, cherubs, and my personal favorite, a God desperately trying to climb out of a rocky earth, its face turned to the sky wracked with effort, water jetting up from a gaping mouth.

Leigh Anne was enthralled by Marie-Antoinette's village, the Hameau de la Reine. Built in 1783 for the Queen, it was a private meeting place for her and her closest friends, a place to get away from royal life, to relax. It was full of charm; small quaint houses, wood picket fences, flowers blooming. One could easily imagine it as a quaint English village.

By the time we made it back to the hotel it was mid afternoon. Both of us were tired but excited and decided to stroll along the Champs-Elysées, browse windows and perhaps stop for a coffee and drink at one of the many sidewalk cafés.

Leigh Anne was animated and excited, her enthusiasm contagious. When we sat for a drink she spotted a shop across the avenue and turned to me.

"Dad, can I have some money?"

"Sure. For what?" I asked, digging into my back pocket.

"A surprise."

"Okay. Here," I offered, some Euros in my hand.

"That's not enough. Can I have your credit card?"

"What exactly are you going to buy?" I asked, handing an AmEx over to her.

"You'll see," she said brightly. "Be back in a minute."

With that she headed off. Her estimate of a minute was wildly off . . . by forty-five minutes.

LEIGH ANNE CAREFULLY CROSSED the busy avenue, her destination a shop she'd seen yesterday when out on her own. It was a young ladies shop, its window full of the most amazingly beautiful clothes in materials she'd never seen.

In the back of her mind she'd hoped to see a shop like it. Despite choosing her clothes carefully for the trip, she wished she had something sexy to wear for Dad. But all of her stuff was cute, or frilly, or plain cotton. With excitement building and Dad's credit card clenched in her hand, she entered La Jeune Cygnet, The Young Swan.

She wandered through the shop to the lingerie section, fingers touching incredible fabrics, studying the offerings, blushing at some, excited by others. Then she spotted it, white and diaphanous, silky, a beautiful babydoll nightie with delicate lacework. The matching panties, gossamer thin with a little white silk bow on the waistband and double gusset, looked so sexy, too. Perfect.

"Puis-je vous aider?"

Leigh Anne turned and smiled at the twenty-something sales girl. "This?" she asked in English, pointing.

"Of course," was the fluent reply. "Let me find your size."

The sales girl searched through the selection, finding the right-sized babydoll nightie and holding it up against Leigh Anne. She asked casually, "Est-il pour quelqu'un de spécial?"

Leigh Anne shrugged, "I don't understand."

"Ah. Excusez-moi. Sorry. I asked if this was for someone special in your life."

Leigh Anne nodded, blushing slightly.

"Et bien! Then perhaps I can show you something to go with it?"

Half an hour later Leigh Anne left the store, her heart thumping with excitement. Would Dad like it? Was it too much? God, she hoped he'd like it.

She double-checked herself in the bathroom mirror, studying the effect carefully. Her pussy tingled, surprising her. She'd never been turned on by wearing clothes before. But these were so sexy. They felt like she was wearing nothing. Would Dad like it? He wouldn't think she's a tramp, would he? Was it too revealing? Too much?

Nervousness and doubt began to assail her. She mentally shook herself and reached for the light before leaving the bathroom, forcing herself to move before she changed her mind. This was for Dad.

IMPATIENT, I CALLED OUT to the closed bathroom door, "What's keeping you?"

Dinner had been rather fast, Leigh Anne seeming to have ants in her pants. We'd settled on the informal hotel restaurant. I didn't mind, though. The day had been quite exhausting; what with our morning fun followed by a massive tour of Versailles. All-in-all I was quite happy to be in bed, the television silently showing some action film, and waiting for my daughter to emerge and join me. Last night I'd had a more restful sleep than I'd had in years with Leigh Anne in bed with me.

She'd been secretive and insistent I stay in bed. She wanted to show me what she'd bought and, if the gleam in her beautiful eyes were any judge, whatever it was, I had no doubt I'd love it.

The bathroom door opened.

I did love it. God did I love it. Holy crap!

When the bathroom door opened and Leigh Anne emerged she took my breath away and gave me one of the hardest erections I'd ever felt, all in a couple of seconds. She'd brushed her raven hair until it glowed with reflected light. It was loose and falling over the front of her shoulder.

Light from the bedside lamp, the only illumination, cast shadows on her face bringing out her youthful beauty and adding a mysterious quality. But it was her attire that had me almost in heart palpitations.

A short, white, diaphanous babydoll nightie floated around her, lace cupping young breasts. Everything was visible; the shadow of her areolae topping her pert breasts, a tiny white gossamer-thin pair of panties peeking out from below, so thin I could see her sensual dusting of pubic hairs, so snug the panties hugged her plump pussy, emphasizing its sensual shape.

But the pièce de résistance was a pure white garter belt holding up sheer white stockings, stockings with an intricate lace design banding the tops.

Leigh Anne was stunningly sexy, at once sensual and seductive, yet young and sweet, the contrast thrilling and arousing. Beautiful dark-gray eyes watched for my reaction. She seemed almost unsure of my reaction as she paused for me to study her. Why? There was only one reaction in me. It was uttered without thought.

"God Almighty that's damned sexy," I let out.

Leigh Anne smiled broadly and ran to the bed, slipping under the covers and launching herself into my side.

"So you like it?" she asked enthusiastically.

I said nothing for a moment, drawing the covers down to expose her, my eyes trailing over her slender body. She lay quietly letting me inspect. "God help me you look edible, Leigh Anne," I finally muttered, gently reaching and caressing a remarkably sexy breast. "What brought this on?" I asked, somewhat distracted she her small nipple responded to my tweaking by growing larger and firming up.

"My birthday," she answered.

"But your birthday is tomorrow."

"I know that, Dad," she informed me with an enigmatic smile.

I might have paid attention to that smile if I wasn't suddenly distracted by a pouty little pussy cosseted in white gossamer panties, swelling seductively between slender young thighs, rising rather prominently and crying out for a kiss, little silky black pubic hairs giving me an erection. An urgent desire took over.

Bending down, pressing Leigh Anne onto her back, I drew the short nightie up and off. I teasingly kissed each succulent little nipple before kissing her bare tummy, pressing my lips into silky soft skin. In the corner of my eye, with my face pressed to her, Leigh Anne's sensual pussy loomed large, a succulent rise under see-through white. It looked so damned sexy, so petite yet delectably female. That slight dusting of pubes drove me nuts with arousal, so innocently virginal and young yet so attractive, ripe, on the cusp of maturity, my little girl fertile.

"Don't move," I whispered, leaning over her to kiss her chin, then her lips.

I took my time kissing my way down her body towards that perfect peach, Leigh Anne's fingers combed through my hair. My zigzag path encompassed two flushed, pink areola, a pause to nip each still little nipple, a discovery of fine, invisible body hair below a cute navel. And then the world slowed, my heart tripped. Dizziness assailed me.

I caught the scent of my little girl. I caught a whiff of a delicately pungent, sweet yet musky aroma. I caught the scent of my daughter's arousal. My moan was deep, heartfelt, and loud in my ears. Pressing my lips to her succulent mons, pressing against the endlessly deep pad, I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of youth, of sex, of an aroused preteen and tried to lock it in my brain, my cock achingly hard and pulsing.

Urges bombarded me. I ached to undress my little girl and make love to her properly, take her and make her mine, only mine. I wanted to feel her on me, feel me in her, cum in her, find nirvana in her youth. But, calling to me strongly was a desire to see my daughter's young pussy up close, study an immature pubis, God, taste her!

I caressed her silky thigh and felt the lace top of her stocking. With slight pressure she parted her legs and, while kissing her plump mons, I rose and moved, lying between her legs. Looking up over her mound I smiled. Dark-gray eyes watched me intently, a faint trace of red on Leigh Anne's cheekbones.

I whispered, "I want you so much, Leigh Anne. You're so sexy. And I just adore the lingerie you chose. It's so damned arousing."

She smiled softly, eyes still wide and watchful.

"Can I kiss your pussy?" I asked.

"Okay," she whispered.

Looking down, I caressed the incredible shape of her pubis, a succulent peach, mounded and erotic. Through the material above the double gusset I could see her cleft, tightly closed. A very small bump in the double gusset hinted at her clitoris, my thumb pad confirming it with a gentle caress.

Leigh Anne raised her knees when I kissed her panty-clad pussy. My lips pressed into her gusset. I inhaled her delicate perfume, my child's perfume. Fingertips eased into the side crease finding the elastic of her panties and, with care, I drew the gusset off and over to reveal her entire cleft. My heart raced. My erection ached. Precum leaked.

Leigh Anne's pussy was stunningly gorgeous. Sweet, plump outer labia lightly dusted with individual jet-black pubic hairs oozed apart to reveal a pink, moist interior glistening in the weak bedside light. Her clitoral hood filled half her short cleft, peaking at its tip. Below, two inner labia, short and immature, drew my eyes down to her innermost, most personal, private place; a sight few fathers had ever seen. Below her urethra, at the base of succulent labia, I saw Leigh Anne's vaginal opening, a startlingly tiny dark opening too small for even my pinkie. Buttocks swelled where they pressed against the bed.

Holding her panties aside I kissed my daughter's cleft, warmth and moistness touching my lips. Her thighs twitched closed against my ears. She trembled. I tasted.

God she tasted sweet, slightly musky, all female arousal but lighter, more delicate, subtle. It was pure ambrosia. My tongue touched her cleft, lips pressed to her labia. I licked her clitoris and she moaned. Her fingers found my hair again. Tremors coursed through her thighs. I probed lower, my tongue slipping across her urethra to probe her tiny, sexy entrance, pressing gently, worming my tongue in, a moist little entrance that had me shaking with excitement. At some point in the near future that tiny entrance was going to take me in! Drawing her ambrosia up, I returned to her clitoris, licking and caressing.

Leigh Anne started moving. It began as a twitch pressing her pussy to my mouth. The twitch gained rhythm until, when I sucked her little clit, her movements gained urgency. Reaching up from under her legs I found her small breast and caressed. Her quiet sighs became louder, becoming moans. Her thighs trembled and squeezed against my head, her fingers curling to hold my hair.

I sucked and teased with my tongue and slipped a fingertip to her entrance, caressing and probing gently, just the tip of my finger penetrating my little girl's pussy. She groaned and humped my face, rubbing her pussy up and down, thighs now clenching rhythmically.

Glancing over her sexy mons I saw eyes closed, vertical frown lines between eyebrows, mouth open, chest heaving, breath inhaled, held, exhaled, hands curled and clasping the sheet. I sucked her clitoris harder, lashing it with my tongue, and pinched a little nipple. Leigh Anne grunted. Her stomach muscles clenched. She paused, not breathing, a look of agony on her pretty face. I sucked her clit again.

The storm hit. She cried out, "Daddy!" and heaved, her bum bouncing, a powerful climax tearing through her small body. She gasped and cried out, "Daddy!" again, pelvis arching up, pausing, collapsing, my fingertip slipping into her vagina up to the first knuckle.

I rode her orgasm, sucking and licking her hard at the peak, slowing and calming, more gentleness as it passed, her chest heaving, until I stopped altogether, Leigh Anne's legs falling to the side limply. Her face softened. Beauty displaced agony and perspiration dotted her brow. My angel looked spectacularly gorgeous in her post-orgasmic lethargy.

Moving up, despite a raging erection, I had an overwhelming need to hold Leigh Anne. Light off, covers up, I held her gently. My love couldn't have been stronger when she snuggled into me with a soft sigh, her face pressed to my chest. I kissed her damp brow and ignored the raging erection below.

"Dad. Dad. Wake up."

The hand gently shaking my shoulder slowly forced wakefulness on me. I felt drugged, as if I'd hardly slept. Cracking my eyes open, I saw the bedside clock glowing twelve-twenty-two at me, the room dark and moonlit. My eyes closed.

"Come on, Dad, wake up," a voice urged. Soft lips kissed my cheek. Man it felt good. A scent wafted at me, light and floral and very, very nice.

Awareness arrived. My daughter was disturbing my sleep. Nice . . . but I was tired.

"Leigh Anne, it's the middle of the night," I complained.

"It's Thursday. It's my birthday. I'm thirteen, Dad."

A rush of adrenalin woke me more effectively than caffeine. My eyes popped open. Leigh Anne's beautiful face looked pale in the moonlight.

"Finally," she said with a smile. "You're awake. Thirteen! Yay!"

A wave of love hit me at her bright excited smile, her twinkling eyes, her pretty, pretty face. I had a teenage daughter! How good was that? I frowned at her. "You're not getting your present until it's daylight," I said in a mock stern voice.

Beautiful dark-gray eyes studied me. A grin emerged. "So, morning sex, then?" she asked. "Not now?"

God help me. The erection formed faster than I could think. Not having cum earlier I was horny and eager. Making love to my Leigh Anne? Sex with my daughter? Excitement thrummed through me. It was what I'd dreamed about for almost two years.

Suddenly, feeling far too happy at the prospect, a mischievous trait emerged, probably from the spectacular smile Leigh Anne was showing. Rolling onto my side, I gathered my little girl in my arms and hugged her slender young body. Kissing her forehead I said, "That's right. Tomorrow morning. I'm tired and old and need my rest."

I almost felt the disappointment emanate from her, her body relaxing, a suffering sigh emitted. Smiling to myself I reached down and caressed her spectacular little panty-clad bum, thin gossamer sliding over sexy little buttocks, perfect exciting mounds. Fingertips pressed panties into a sexy valley teasingly and fished lower, one finger finding the sensual beginning of her young pussy. I teased lightly and eased my knee between hers, forcing a gap to form.

Leigh Anne reached down and pushed my knee away. She muttered something unintelligible, probably put out at not getting her way.

Smiling, I kissed her brow. "Stop fidgeting. I'm trying to sleep," I told her softly, my hand contradicting the statement, stroking a sensual valley before gently gripping a succulent buttock, sliding higher up over a garter belt to her bare back. God she felt so good, so desirable.

Her hand reached behind to push my arm away half-heartedly, muttering something about being angry with me. I grinned and slipped my hand across her hip and down her front and into her crotch to cup her sexy pussy, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was so beautiful, plump yet small, thrilling me.

"You're a real pain, Daddy," Leigh Anne sighed, her pelvis twitching at my caress.

But, when she snuggled into me, assaulting me with her intoxicating aroma of sweet little girl, when she murmured so quietly in pleasure, pressing her incredible pussy into my palm, and whispered so quietly I almost didn't hear, "I love you, Daddy," all my playfulness evaporated. All my teasing was forgotten.

Only one thing occupied my mind - I loved Leigh Anne so, so much. One arm holding her gently, I nuzzled my face to her, using it to move her head, my lips finding her cheek, the corner of her mouth, her chin.

She moaned and pressed her mouth against mine in a heart-stoppingly sexy way, as if she was starving for my kiss. We kissed. I sucked a lower lip, tongues touched, wrestled, probed, mouths opening, so arousing, so sexy. We kissed almost feverishly. Leigh Anne pressed her panty-covered pussy into my palm rhythmically, humping my hand. I teased and caressed her small cleft, my arousal building. Easing my hand up, fingers slipped inside her panties. I felt the sensual rise of her mons and soft pubic hairs. My erection ached when I cupped my daughter's pussy, the tip of my middle finger finding familiar warmth and moisture, Leigh Anne's arousal so, so exciting.

She moaned into my mouth, her tongue probing aggressively, mimicking my finger as it probed between plump labia, slippery and warm, to touch her entrance. Leigh Anne's body jerked. She curled her pussy at my probing finger and the tip slipped in to be gripped by an incredible, moist tightness up to the first knuckle.

Our kiss ended suddenly. Leigh Anne tore her mouth away from mine and gasped, "Daddy," her arms clutching at me. It would have been easy to cum. I was so aroused, so excited. Reluctantly I withdrew my hand from inside her panties.

She reached for my boxers. "Let me," I said, pushing them down and kicking them off, pushing the covers down in the process.

Leigh Anne shoved her panties down almost desperately. I felt a brief shadow of disappointment that it wasn't me taking them off. But it passed very, very quickly when I studied my little girl in a pure, virginal white garter, stockings, and absolutely nothing else, a glorious naked, sexy nymph in that perfect between stage, barely pubescent, all the right parts just exquisitely, excitingly petite.

Moving, I rose to my side and leaned over her. Her beautiful eyes, darker in the moonlight, watched me as I kissed her chastely, a light peck, lingering, full of promise.

"Look at you," I whispered, "my stunningly beautiful, gloriously sexy thirteen-year-old girl." I caressed her soft cheek. "You have no idea how much I love you, Honey, or how much I want you. I've been dreaming of this for a long, long time."

"Me too, Daddy," she said softly.

My erection ached with need. My blood pounded with excitement. This was so illicit. This was so perfect. Incest with my little girl. How could I be so lucky?

"It might hurt," I warned, slowly moving up and over her small body.

Leigh Anne's eyes dropped to my stiff erection. She spread her legs to give me room. "Will it hurt a lot?"

"I don't know. But I'll be gentle," I said, my erection looming over her body and suddenly looking much too large for her to take. With one hand I drew her legs up over my thighs. Her sensual pussy flowered open, her short cleft parting to reveal the moist, arousing sight of her small clitoral hood, still undeveloped inner labia and below, the agonizingly sexy dark pink entrance to her vagina. It was a small dark hole, so small I started having second thoughts. This was going to hurt. She'd need to stretch massively to take me.

For some strange reason, that thought both scared and aroused me. Remembering how tight her pussy had felt on the tip of my finger excited me. I couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like on my cock. Yet Leigh Anne was so tiny down there. Would I tear her trying to penetrate her?

"Are you sure about this?" I asked heatedly. "We don't have to do this. You don't have to do this for me, Honey," I said.

Leigh Anne smiled. "I want to, Daddy. I want to do it for me, too. It'll only hurt the first time, right?"

"I think so." What did I know? I'd never made love with a virgin before. "I'll be as gentle as I can," I said.

Holding my body over her on one straight arm I reached for my cock, gripping it firmly. Moving slightly, the tip kissed Leigh Anne's pussy. God it looked erotic. My head was so large, her pussy so small. Pressing, her labia flattened and slowly bulged at the sides, her clitoris kissing my crown. When I backed off, her cleft glistened with precum, a silvery string joining us. I moved forward again, pressing my cock to her short cleft. This time I swiped the tip up and down across her clit and to the base of her cleft.

"That felt good," she murmured.

Glancing up at her I smiled, bent and kissed her gently.

Rising, cock in hand, I repeated the move, swiping the tip along her cleft, spreading slippery precum over her. Dark pubic hairs glistened with precum. Moving the tip up and down I applied pressure slowly, Leigh Anne's labia slowly spreading to hug my crown, stretching sexily. The sight had me in a state. Nothing in my fevered imagination had come close to the eroticism of seeing my adult erection seeking entry to a barely pubescent pussy. It was obscenely exciting, my cock swelling and aching. I couldn't wait to penetrate my little girl, to feel what it is like to sink into her moist pussy, be held in a tight, thirteen-year-old vagina. Would it be very different from a mature woman? From Karen's?

We were very, very slippery, coated with precum. On each down swipe I pressed deeper into her cleft. Leigh Anne watched intently, her hands resting on her small breasts. And suddenly I was there. Suddenly the tip of my crown was nestled to her entrance, hugged by sexy stretched labia. My cock pulsed. I paused. My blood raced.

"Ready?" I asked softly.

"Uh-huh."

Pressing forward, Leigh Anne's labia stretched thin. My crown flattened. No progress was made. Gripping my shaft hard I tried again. It was impossible, like trying to fit my erection through a keyhole, only smaller. It wasn't going to work. I pressed again, determined to penetrate my little girl, to feel her. No progress made.

Was this impossible? Was it just not possible to have sex with such a young girl? Surely not.

Pressing and easing back, more determined than ever, I whispered, "Relax, Sweetheart. It won't hurt as much if you're relaxed."

Leigh Anne responded in a small voice, "Kay. I'll try."

I actually felt her relax. I felt it when her entrance dilated slightly, the very tip of my cock easing deeper. Moving gently back and forth, gripping my shaft tightly, I started making progress, millimeter by millimeter, my mushroom head being squeezed.

Suddenly Leigh Anne gasped. Her body twitched. Her hands formed into fists, stomach muscles tightening. A small ring of red appeared on my crown.

"Are you alright?" I asked. She'd just given me her virginity.

"That stung a bit," she said, hands still curled into fists.

Bending, I kissed her gently. Arching my back I sucked her perky breast, teasing her nipple, sucking harder. She moaned, her hands finding my head and pulling my mouth to her breast. I pressed my erection against her, pressed harder, and suddenly, unbelievably, the crown eased in smoothly, her entrance yielding to the assault.

Leigh Anne gasped. I moaned. She clenched. Pain radiated from my cock before it was expelled from her with a pop.

"This isn't going . . ." I began to say.

"No. Put it back, Dad. Please? Just try again."

Leaning over her, I repositioned myself at her pussy and pressed gently, now more worried than ever that I was going to damage my little girl. But that initial penetration must have been the charm. Leigh Anne's pussy stretched open and oozed over my crown, grasping me in a velvety tight hug.

Stocking-clad legs tightened around my thighs at that first progress and suddenly I was penetrating my daughter, my erection slipping effortlessly deep into her, a tight sheath slipping down my shaft. Unbelievably my cock penetrated her until only an inch remained, warm moist velvet gripping me, my cock flexing in her tight vagina.

Stretching my legs out, settled onto her, slipping one arm under my little girl's shoulder and the other down to cradle her bottom. It was heavenly holding her delicate young body to me with my erection gripped in her heavenly vagina.

"God you feel good," I whispered to her.

LEIGH ANNE WAS FEELING slightly dizzy. Daddy's erection felt huge. It felt like she was stretched impossibly, her pussy stuffed and aching. She'd never felt anything quite like it; the sensation of having something so bulky and hard buried deep inside her was . . . was . . . wow! It made her ache and need and want. She even felt Daddy's erection swell and pulse as if it was alive. God, she had Daddy inside her! Finally, Daddy making love to her!

His hand on her ass felt large, too. It felt good, exciting. She reached up and hugged his neck.

"It doesn't hurt, Daddy," she whispered, and used her legs to pull him closer, tilting her pussy up towards him. Maybe she could take more of him. How much was in her? It felt like all of him.

A deep shudder shook her when Daddy's erection pressed even deeper. It felt like he was almost to her stomach it was so deep inside her. That final little bit pressed her clit to his groin sending a spark of pleasure through her, her heart beating fast. She tilted her head up, seeking and finding his mouth, kissing Daddy hard, her pussy clenching. You're MINE now, Daddy!

Suddenly Daddy moaned into her mouth thrilling her. He started rubbing himself against her holding her bum tight. It scraped and rubbed her clit sending pulses of pleasure through her, her breasts aching. Deep inside her she could actually feel his crown rubbing and pressing against something, pressing and easing as he rubbed his groin against her.

Little sparks hit. Small sparkles of pleasure radiated out from her clit and flowed down to her toes, curling them. They traveled up to her breasts making them feel heavy, full, and on up into her head bringing bits of pleasure in waves. They built in intensity, Daddy rubbing her clit, his cock stretching her, pressing deep, deep. Waves began to radiate out from her pussy, pulsing, overwhelming. A flash of ecstasy hit her.

"Oh God, Daddy, I'm gonna cum," she moaned, pussy clenching, pleasure, pleasure.

I'D NEVER FELT ANYTHING like it. That last inch must have hurt Leigh Anne, stretching her little pussy beyond what it could handle. The tip of my cock was pressed tight to a hard, rubbery part that must have been my little girl's cervix. Just rolling my hips, pressing against her pussy and stimulating her clit, I felt my crown being massaged erotically, sensually, my entire erection held tight inside her velvet pussy.

Leigh Anne's legs tightened and eased as if she was trying to get me even deeper, impossibly deep, her breath hot on my neck. Holding my child, so beautifully petite under me, so, so young, so sexy, had my heart racing. I was penetrating my daughter! I was actually making love to my little girl! The excitement was almost too much to take. And we hadn't even begun to fuck, to stroke.

When she kissed me insistently, her tongue probing actively, I moaned, my cock swelling despite not stroking, the crown massaged deep inside her. But what stunned me, what absolutely floored me, was my reaction to my little girl announcing her climax.

She gasped, held her breath for a moment as if teetering on the edge of a cliff. I held my breath with her. She gasped again and grunted, her body twitching, "Uh!" her legs suddenly straightening, arms clutching. She grunted again, "Uh," her arms clasping, body jerking, pussy clamping down on my erection. Nothing had prepared me for the stunning sexuality of a thirteen year old cumming on my cock. Nothing.

"Jesus, Baby," I gasped, "I can't . . . Cumming, Baby. Cumming!" A massive wave slammed into me. Without having stroked into my daughter's pussy once, my erection swelled. I felt semen surge up. I felt my crown swell impossibly big, Leigh Anne's pussy so damned tight. Pleasure hammered me, semen exploding in an almost agonizing spurt, hot thick cum flooding my little girl. Another wave slammed into me. "Oh God!" My cock swelled, I exploded, semen erupting painfully, Leigh Anne's gasping climax making her little pussy impossibly tight. I came again, arching my back and trying to shove my erection up into her womb, pain wracking my body with exquisite pleasure, more pleasure than I could handle. I pressed hard with nowhere to go and exploded, hot cum flooding my crown, pleasure punishing me. My feet cramped and I came again, again, again, hugging my darling tight, hugging my darling, cumming, Jesus cumming!

The climax passed as suddenly as it had arrived, releasing me. I almost felt relief. It had been an agonizing climax unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I was physically trembling, breathing as if I'd run a marathon, heart pounding. Holding Leigh Anne gently but tightly I rolled onto my side, bringing her with me. My erection flagged, softened and was eventually expelled, a flood of semen following it.

"Are you okay?" I whispered into Leigh Anne's hair.

A nod was the only answer I got. Pulling covers up, I cuddled my little lover to me, exhausted, drained, utterly drained yet thrilled beyond belief. I'd finally had sex with my little girl! Sleep eventually washed in.

Chapter Four: Frisky Fun Emerging

My eyes popped open. I felt it again, a soft caress of just the crown.

Dawn had only just arrived, the bedroom barely visible. Through the open windows there was the unusual quiet of a big city asleep, occasional car engines heard but little else.

Sensations registered one after another. Scent - Leigh Anne's intoxicating aroma of sleepy girl; touch - a delicate young girl in my arms, a very small breast in my palm, a sensuous petite bottom pressed against my groin. I was spooning my daughter.

I felt it again, that soft, exploratory caress of the crown.

Warmth - two slender young thighs pressed to my erection; sound - the soft deep breathing of my sweetheart in my arms; movement - a subtle squeeze of petite buttocks, a clench of thighs, my erection straining.

I caressed a small nipple. Leigh Anne sighed softly. She hunched her hips ever-so-slightly, her crotch caressing my erection. A finger circling the crown suddenly became slippery, silken precum released. She acknowledged my aroused reaction with a gentle clench of her sweet little buttocks.

I pressed my groin against her, hugging her beautifully small body tightly.

Somewhere in the distance a car horn sounded.

She moved, a sensual curl of her pussy rubbing against my shaft. I tweaked her small nipple gently. She sighed and squeezed her buttocks, relaxed, squeezed again, curling her pelvis. Little movements, exquisite little movements, grew longer, the crown of my erection sliding back, pushing forward. Silken precum lubricated. Soft labia caressed.

I sighed and gently squeezed her petite breast.

A hand covered my erection, her leg partially rising, pressure easing. Fingertips pressed my crown. She curled her hips, I tilted mine.

Almost effortlessly I slipped into her moist pussy, an initial tightness as the crown oozed in followed by warmth, snug heaven. My little girl was still slippery with semen yet exquisite. A gentle thrust and my entire length slipped into her, moist velvet surrounding me. I paused to enjoy the pleasure of penetrating my daughter again.

Nothing in the world could ever feel better than holding my sweet little girl with my erection deep inside her, held snuggly, throbbing with desire. Nothing in the world could ever sound sweeter to a father's ears than a young daughter sighing quietly with pleasure. I was never going to experience this again. It only happened once to very lucky fathers; morning sex, birthday sex with a newly deflowered thirteen-year-old in Paris, the most romantic city in the world.

No words had been spoken. This was pure lovemaking.

Leigh Anne's hand pressed mine to her petite breast. She pressed her bottom back at me. I snuggled close, held her gently, and slowly pulled out of her, pausing as the crown breached her then slipping back into her young body, pressing, penetrating her deeply, slowly. She shuddered lightly and moved her bottom. We repeated the action, sensual withdrawal, exquisite penetration, sensual withdrawal, exquisite penetration, her snug vagina caressing every millimeter of my erection.

We fucked slowly, languidly, every tiny sensation felt and made more exquisitely pleasurable by the slowness of our movement. And gradually pleasure evolved into need, erection swelling. Hugging my little girl tight, the first hint of an orgasm emerged as urgency and building erotic need. We fucked gently, very gently, Leigh Anne slippery and moist and tight. Long strokes caressed my shaft, my erection caressing her inside. We moved together in a perfect dance, fucking, loving, our arousal building.

When bliss hit it was sudden, quiet and intense. It started with a hushed beautiful snort of breath from my daughter and the sexiest body shudder. Her hand pressed mine tightly to her small breast and she trembled like a frightened fawn, her pussy gripping me. I fell into my orgasm, a feeling of exquisite pleasure flooding though me when my erection swelled and pulsed, thick, hot cum spurting deep inside my little girl. I pulsed again, semen spurting with a wave of bliss. I fucked my trembling, climaxing young daughter spurting beautifully deep into her clutching pussy, flooding her with my love, cumming softly, intensely, completely.

When we calmed, deeply satisfied, neither of us moved. Sleep returned, hugging my little girl to me, my softened erection held snugly inside her. It had been perfect lovemaking.

The sound of a flushing toilet dragged me from a drug-like sleep. My body actually felt sore, as if I'd worked out in the gym the day before. Even my feet ached. Then memory returned followed by an erection, followed by a smile, followed by desire, lust, and renewed need.

"Morning, Dad."

Opening my eyes I was graced by a dressed Leigh Anne, a big, big smile, eyes sparkling. While I rued not waking up with her in bed, this sight was pretty damned nice. Those Capri pants hugged her body very nicely, folds at her crotch emphasizing something hidden I desired quite a lot.

"Hey, you sexy thing," I said with a smile. God I felt good. "Come back to bed."

Leigh Anne blushed. Her pleased smile grew even wider. I saw pride in her expression. God Almighty she was pretty. And I was horny.

A knock sounded. Damn.

"That's breakfast. I ordered it," she said brightly. "Get up, Dad."

"I am up. That's why I want you back in bed," I called after her as she disappeared into the sitting room. A light, beautiful, embarrassed laugh full of pleasure drifted back to me making me smile so hard it hurt.

I tried again. "It's your birthday. Come get your present!"

She burst into laughter. "Get up, Dad!"

I did and caught myself muttering as I studied my erection waving around. It made me smile. Just look at me! Muttering because I couldn't get my daughter in bed!

Reluctantly dressed and shaved I found Leigh Anne eating breakfast. Sitting, I poured a coffee and studied her. I don't think it had fully sunk in that we'd actually made love; that I'd actually had sex with her. It felt too . . . strange.

Then, remembering the climax I'd experienced with her, blood flowed south. I'd never realized that a climax could actually be painful. Was that why the French called it "la petite mort," the little death?

And how did Leigh Anne feel about what we'd done, now in hindsight, in the harsh light of day. Did she regret it? I didn't. Although I wondered what a regular climax with her might feel like. Would I ever experience a normal climax with her? I wasn't sure I could handle too many like last night. It sort of robbed me of the essence of life, leaving me so utterly drained I couldn't even formulate thoughts.

"What are we doing today?" Leigh Anne asked, leaning forward and taking a bite of fried egg in a surprisingly lady-like way.

"Huh?"

She swallowed. "I said, what are we doing today?"

"It's your birthday. Anything you want."

"I want to go sightseeing with you and eat lunch at a quaint little café and come back after lunch for a snooze and . . . you know, fool around?" she said with a blush. "And after you can take me to dinner and after we can come back and cuddle and . . . and . . . maybe fool around again?"

I smiled, thrilled with my daughter's sexual enthusiasm. Just how lucky could a father be? "Sounds like a magnificent plan to me," I stated, taking a sip of coffee. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded eating some toast spread with jam.

"Was last night everything . . . was last night . . . did you enjoy . . .?" Why was I stumbling? Why was asking my little girl if she liked sex with her father so awkward?

Leigh Anne swallowed her mouthful of toast and smiled at me. "Did I like it? Uh-huh," she said with a nod. "I thought it was supposed to hurt a lot the first time, but it didn't, not a lot, not as much as I'd expected anyway."

"How do you feel today? Sore?"

She tilted her head slightly as if assessing. "Not too much."

I sipped coffee, observing her carefully. "Was it like you'd expected?" I asked. I wanted to know, beyond doubt, that my daughter really wanted this relationship to continue now she'd experienced sex with me. I needed to know. I needed to reassure myself it was her decision to continue.

Leigh Anne paused to consider my question. A slight flush dusted her cheekbones. Her beautiful eyes sparkled. "It was nothing like what I expected, Dad," she said softly.

"How so?" I asked, feeling trepidation.

"Well, to start with you felt much, much bigger inside me than I'd imagined." Her blush intensified. "It was like you were in almost up to my stomach. And my . . . my climax was so much stronger than I'd ever had. It was totally different from the ones I get when I play with myself. Really amazing."

Silence followed. Through the open windows the sounds of Paris filtered in; horns blaring sharply in anger, the roar of revving engines, a whistle from the doorman calling a cab. I sipped coffee, debating with myself. It seemed Leigh Anne was being honest, thank God.

"How was it for you?" she asked, her eyes dipping to the plate, embarrassed at asking me, maybe.

"Leigh Anne, honey, I can promise you in my life I've never experienced anything so intense, so amazing, or so pleasurable as making love with you. I've never experienced a climax like that. I think it almost killed me," I added with a smile.

"So you want to do it again?" she asked.

I grinned. What a question! "Yup. And again and again and again and, are you doing anything at this particular moment? I have some thoughts," I said, arching my eyebrows up and down.

Leigh Anne wiped her mouth and laughed with pleasure, setting the cloth napkin down. She studied me with her beautiful, mesmerizing dark-gray eyes, mysterious thoughts flitting through them.

"Dad, promise me you won't have sex with Karen anymore," she said from out of left field.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Promise me," she insisted with a fierce look on her pretty face.

"I'm not sure I can, Honey."

"Yes you can," she insisted forcefully. "Promise, please?"

"What's this all about, Leigh Anne?"

Leigh Anne frowned. "I don't want to share you with HER. I want you to love me, just me. Besides, you like sex with me. I'll give you all the sex you need. You don't need her."

It slowly filtered through my dumbfounded mind; Leigh Anne was jealous! When I smiled broadly and her frown deepened, so sexy, I reached out, took her hand and pulled my little girl into my lap, hugging her around her slender waist. She was so light on me.

Smiling, I nuzzled her neck. Her childishness emerged when she giggled quietly, tilting her head to protect her neck and leaning away.

"Don't," she complained weakly.

I nuzzled again, this time kissing her neck, inhaling her wonderful natural scent. An erection began to form. "Sweetheart," I said softly, "I've loved you far longer than anyone else in this world. I love you more than anyone and I will continue to love you more than anyone else, forever."

"Kay," Leigh Anne sighed, melting against me.

My hand found a pert little breast over her cotton T-shirt, an unfettered little breast, firm and delightful, sexy and exciting and very arousing. Fondling it gently, Leigh Anne's hand rose to cover mine, pressing it to her chest. She murmured when I nibbled on her earlobe and squirmed delightfully on my lap. My erection was complete, tight inside my pants.

I tweaked a soft little nipple. Leigh Anne shuddered and sighed quietly, "Daddy." I shuddered, too. The way she said it, replete with love, such emotion, affected me deeply. My little girl - so sexy and sweet and desirable.

Just as I was contemplating carrying her to bed for some frisky and satisfying sexy play, Leigh Anne slipped from my lap, grabbing my hand and pulling.

"C'mon, Dad. I want to see the Louvre Museum today. It's my birthday. Let's go."

"Don't you want to leave it for this afternoon, Honey? We can go back to bed now and play around," I suggested with a hopeful grin.

Leigh Anne stopped walking briefly and considered my proposition. "Nope. It's my birthday. I want to cuddle and stuff after lunch. C'mon."

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "I haven't given you your birthday present."

She grinned at me. "I said this afternoon, Dad."

Laughing, I clarified I meant a real present, a proper present. A few minutes later my daughter threw herself into my lap hugging me. I didn't complain.

The white gold bracelet and neck chain looked very good on her. But I adored how she kept looking and admiring the delicate bracelet on her wrist.

It was hard to believe but I was tired after walking endlessly through the Louvre. It was countless rooms after rooms, each filled with artwork. I'd been hugely disappointed with the Mona Lisa. Somehow my mind had made it a large canvass portrait, but in reality it was tiny; thirty by twenty inches. I loved the Egyptian antiquities, marveling at their exquisite workmanship. I thought, if I could go back in history to observe anything, ancient Egypt and the pharaohs and pyramids would be my choice.

Leigh Anne was her own power plant. She was indefatigable, endlessly curious, enthusiastically exploring and studying her visitor's guidebook, inundating me with a stream of information and her personal observations. At times I forgot we were in one of the truly great museums of the world, lost in watching my daughter's enthusiasm, her beautiful animated face, her wonderful smiles, her happiness. She was stunning and gorgeous to me.

I also became mesmerized by her youthful breasts under that yellow T-shirt. The way they jiggled when she laughed had me convinced she hadn't put on a bra before leaving the hotel. I confirmed it by caressing her back while studying a painting - some old Dutch Master's rendition of a sea battle between sailing ships, cannons emitting billowing clouds of smoke. Once confirmed I developed a new game, a sexy and delightful game. The rules were simple: how many times could I surreptitiously brush my hand or body against those perky little mounds of delight.

Initially I was successful with the gentle brush, pretending to reach or point, but Leigh Anne caught on when I tried for a subtle grope and she proceeded to laugh and protect herself.

Over lunch at a small Parisian café, watching people walk by, I explained the rules of my game when Leigh Anne asked.

"It's simple really. I get ten points for a "drive-by." That's where a part of my arm brushes against one of my best friends . . ."

Leigh Anne hooted with laughter, other patrons smiling at her pleasure.

I continued, smiling, "and two points for brushing them with my stomach - my stomach is less because I only have to hug you to achieve that goal. Then there are twenty points for a back-handed nudge, twenty-five points for causing a perky nipple - which I haven't yet achieved, may I say - and the biggies; fifty points for a palm hold, one hundred for a rare double That's where I . . ."

"I know what that is, Dad," Leigh Anne interrupted, grinning at me and blushing. Damn she was gorgeous. "So how many points did you amass?" she asked.

"Not enough," I replied with a smirk. "Did I mention the five hundred pointer?"

"I need to shower," Leigh Anne announced when we returned to the hotel suite. "I didn't shower this morning. Didn't want to wake you up," she claimed.

Watching her firm little ass inside those tight Capri pants when she left the room, I felt a momentary stab of loss. I wanted to take that promised afternoon snooze with her and romp around under the covers, or above.

"Aren't you coming?" echoed out to me over the sound of the shower.

I almost tripped when shucking my pants I was in such a hurry. Steam billowed in the bathroom partially obscuring the shower. Water on the clear glass enclosure didn't let me see anything but a shadow. My erection bounced around. I opened the shower door and slipped into the humid heat.

Leigh Anne's hair was plastered to her, so much longer when wet. It almost reached the base of her spine, her succulent compact ass swelling out seductively, a sexy, sexy valley calling my name.

My erection strained up. Moving in, I nestled it to that crease and slipped my hands around her slender body, across her soft tummy and up until I was gently holding two of the sexiest little boobs in the world. Leigh Anne relaxed and pressed herself back against me. I bent and kissed her shoulder. Turning my face, I kissed her wet neck. She murmured sexily, her hands rising to cover mine. My erection flexed against her. She squeezed her buttocks in response.

"Like this," I whispered into her ear. "I want you like this, right here in the shower."

"Kay," she whispered, sending my blood soaring.

Sliding my hand down across her tummy I cupped her sexy little pussy, my middle finger caressing, probing and seeking. I found it. I found that stunningly arousing feeling of my little girl moist and slippery between her labia, my daughter horny, turned on. Damn it was so exciting.

Teasing her clit, I whispered, "I want to take you like this, from behind. Can I?"

"Kay," she whispered, tilting her head slightly to let me kiss her neck again and pushing her sexy ass back at me.

My middle finger found her entrance and probed carefully. She shuddered at my touch. I slipped the tip of my finger into her and drew her arousal up to her clit, whispering, "I want to cum in you, Leigh Anne. I want to fill you."

She shuddered. "Kay," she whispered.

My erection ached. I was dizzy with need. Straightening up, I held one small hip and pushed her shoulder, bending her forward at the waist, her spectacular small ass rounding and curving deliciously. Knees slightly bent, I took my shaft in hand and eased the tip of my cock between her sexy buttocks.

The tip touched her pussy. I trembled and moved it side-to-side, slowly working my way deeper. When she reached underneath herself and fingertips touched my crown I almost came. She pressed with her fingers holding me in place, guiding me. I pressed forward.

For a moment my daughter's pussy resisted, refusing me entrance. But then she yielded sensationally, labia slipping over my crown, a warm moist welcome gripping my tip. Leigh Anne trembled. Her pussy oozed over me and I was in, the crown held in a tight velvet embrace.

Releasing my shaft I held two narrow hips and pressed, tugging her ass back against me. She reached out and held onto the glass shower wall. Warm water cascaded over us. With slow, careful strokes I worked myself into her tight pussy, each stroke edging me deeper, her velvet sheath sliding down my shaft, my little girl's pussy caressing me. Each careful stroke made my cock swell with pleasure. I adored her tightness, her youth. Each stroke drove my heart rate higher, my need higher, my desire higher.

That exquisite moment arrived when I was completely buried in Leigh Anne's gorgeous pussy such utter pleasure. I paused, just enjoying the incredible sensation of my cock being surrounded in a very snug, moist hold.

"How does this feel?" I asked breathlessly.

"It feels . . . full. I like it. It didn't hurt this time."

Holding her gently at the waist, I withdrew, her sensual pussy caressing my shaft, pleasure warming me, my shaft glistening with her moist arousal as it emerged, thick and pulsing. I stroked back into her holding her hips firmly, her sweet buttocks slapping against my groin, the tip of my erection knocking against her end.

A quiet "Ooof" sounded.

"Did that hurt?" I asked.

"No. Feels good," she answered breathlessly, squeezing her stunning buttocks, her pussy clenching exquisitely.

Withdrawing slowly, I thrust back, deep, slightly harder, her bum slapping into me, her whole body moving. Staring at her back I noticed how close my thumbs were to each other as I held her hips and waist. It brought with it a sharp realization of just how petite and young my daughter was and that, if anything, excited me even more. I started stroking into her, holding her, thrusting, erection aching with need. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. Something was missing.

It hit me. I needed to see Leigh Anne's pretty face. I wanted to see her climax, see that moment of exquisite pleasure that made her frown so beautifully, that gave her such sweet agony.

Pulling out of her I told her to stand and turn. She looked surprised, eyes wide. Bending, I gripped her sexy little bum and lifted. She smiled in understanding and reached up to hug my neck, her slender legs rising to wrap around my waist, her pussy settling down push against my erection without penetration.

Water cascaded over us loudly, a never-ending stream of steamy warmth. Moving, I pressed her back to the glass shower wall and kissed her hard, tongue probing into her welcoming mouth. Leigh Anne wiggled and moved against me sensuously. Her hand wormed down between us to grip my erection. She guided it back to her, rising, nestling the tip to her entrance deep in her cleft. Our kiss became more frantic and I thrust suddenly. She snorted through her nose. My cock penetrated her suddenly, gripped tightly, erotically, beautifully.

Withdrawing, I thrust again, firmly, burying myself in heaven, erection rigid and achingly thick. She snorted again, a beautiful sound of pleasure driving my thundering arousal even higher. I loved her sweet snorts and grunts.

I broke the kiss needing to oxygen. "Jesus you feel good," I whispered, thrusting up into her, holding her sweet little ass and pulling her to me, desperately trying to penetrate deeper into her tight pussy.

Leigh Anne gasped. She opened her eyes and stared at me. "I'm close, Daddy. Are you?" She grunted again at my hard thrust.

"Touch yourself. Play with yourself," I ordered.

Leigh Anne's arm slipped from my neck. She leaned back slightly and looked down. I did, too. God help me the sight was erotic. My thick erection was piercing her stretched pussy. It looked painful and thrilling to me, her clitoris reddened and inflamed. My cock swelled dangerously, the sight of it slipping in and sliding out of her little pussy so damned arousing. Leigh Anne's hand obscured the sight. I glanced up at her. She stared at me, her pretty face with an expression of concentration. I knew the exact moment she felt her clit, her eyes narrowing and losing focus.

Thrusting into her tight pussy hard, my groin banging against her hand, I felt my climax arrive. Like a storm gathering, pressure built and built and built. My cock swelled and felt massive, as if her little pussy tightened even more. Jesus, my arousal hurt, the need to cum so painfully urgent. Then the sky opened. Lightning flashed.

"Jesus. Cum with me," I begged my daughter, thrusting into her, pausing with my entire erection buried in her tight warmth. I swelled. "Cum," I urged. "Please," I begged.

Leigh Anne grunted, hand moving fast. Her body twitched, "Daddy," she gasped and I came. I came hard, semen exploding into her little pussy in an exquisite burst of relieved pleasure. Withdrawing, erection swelling painfully, I thrust into my little girl hard. "Oh God," I gasped and exploded again, semen erupting from me in an endless achingly painful explosion.

"Daddy!"

I came hard, holding her small bottom, thrusting, the full rage of my orgasm taking control, shoving in deep, exploding, sweet ecstasy, withdrawing, shoving, sweet tightness, exploding, hot cum flooding her little womb. I thrust and came, thrust and came until I had nothing left, just an aching void and trembling muscles and sweat and heavy breath and a racing heart.

We stilled, calmed. I held my child gently, her cheek resting on my shoulder, her legs relaxing and falling away from my waist. This feeling, this exact feeling of holding my little girl while feeling my semi-hard erection held inside her tight, tight pussy, and complete, utter satisfaction permeating my body, was heaven on earth. Knowing my daughter was full of my semen, feeling her warm breaths puffing on my neck, her arms hugging me, and her naked body against me was priceless.

By the time I partially dried us and carried her to bed, sleep and fatigue were tugging at my eyes even if it was only just after two o'clock in the afternoon.

We slept.

Horns blaring drew me out of beautiful dreams and into an even better dream; Leigh Anne cuddled to me, naked, warm, sexy; my little girl.

She stirred, woken by the same blare. Eyes opened. A glorious smile emerged.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi, you," I replied, carefully brushing her thick hair from her pretty face with one finger. I kissed her gently, chastely, lovingly. "How are you feeling, Birthday Girl?" I asked.

She smiled again. "Really sore now, but good."

Caressing her compact little ass with one hand I asked, "Do you want to do some more sightseeing before dinner?"

"Nope. I want to stay right here in bed with you."

"Sounds like a plan to me," I agreed, kissing her brow and pulling her into my side. I reached for the TV control and turned it on, pressed the mute button and sighed at the pleasure of having my daughter naked in bed with me.

"I don't want to share you, Dad" Leigh Anne said softly, her hand playing with my chest hair.

"I'm not sure that's possible, Honey," I said, surprised she was still preoccupied with it.

"You do know she's a lesbian, don't you?" Leigh Anne said.

That truly surprised me. "No she's not," I answered. "I can attest to her not being a lesbian from personal experience."

"Sorry. I meant bisexual. Those tennis games with Pamela aren't really tennis games."

"Really?" I asked in astonishment. That might just explain Karen's lack of a libido in bed.

"Uh-huh. I accidently overheard her on the phone. After that it was pretty obvious."

"It was?" I asked.

"Uh-huh. She wears her sexy clothes when she was going to meet Pamela. And when she gets home she always goes and takes a shower before anything else, but only after going out with Pamela to play tennis."

"Wow. I never knew."

Leigh Anne giggled. "You're a guy. Guys never know stuff."

"We don't?"

"See? You don't even know you don't know stuff!"

I laughed. But part of my mind was reviewing the last few years with Karen. Damn, I could be surprisingly blind at times.

Birthday dinner was a formal affair in the hotel restaurant. Leigh Anne had dressed up, as had I. We enjoyed excellent food, superb service, and each other's company. Through dinner I couldn't help but study my little girl and amaze at her being my lover. I felt more strongly about her than anyone I'd ever known and, had she asked me to divorce Karen, I would have actually considered it. Thankfully she didn't.

We chatted and laughed and eventually returned to our suite, both with full stomachs and fatigued from a very active day.

Leigh Anne came out of the bathroom, switching lights out, wearing a short T-shirt, the diaphanous white panties I was beginning to love, and a white gold bracelet with matching necklace. She smiled and slipped into bed, cuddling up to me. I was in heaven.

I had brief thoughts of trying to have sex with her again but, despite the mind being willing, the old body wasn't. I was too exhausted. So was my tired little girl.

Holding her close, I kissed her hair. "Night, Sweetheart," I whispered in the darkness with a tight hug.

"Night, Dad. I had a wonderful birthday. Thank you," she said softly.

Chapter Five: Our Secret Pleasure

The airplane surged down the runway at Orly pressing me back into the seat. France rushed by the oval porthole. The Boeing 787 Dreamliner lifted its nose and slipped into flight, sudden smoothness, engines dropping from a howl to a dull roar.

Leigh Anne held my hand, her knee crossed casually, faded designer jeans spotless and new.

"What's going to happen when we get home?" she asked. "Will we still be able to, you know?"

I thought about it. It had preyed on my mind since her birthday. Was there a way for us to be together? I so wanted to wake up with my little girl next to me, it was such a rich delight. And I really, really wanted our sexual relationship to continue. But how?

"We'll find a way, Honey. I promise," I reassured her, squeezing her hand and smiling.

"Kay."

The flight was a busy time for me. While Leigh Anne watched a movie and dozed I pondered the situation, nothing resolved by the time we landed at LAX.

It was still unresolved when Karen welcomed us home with a smile and hug. It was unresolved when I collapsed into bed and slept, trying to readjust to west coast time. It was unresolved as the workweek progressed. By mid-week I was desperate for a sexy romp with Leigh Anne. And that's how our secret grew.

Leigh Anne giggled at my grope. She glanced around the kitchen to make sure the coast was clear and, satisfied, groped my crotch.

"Five hundred points," she claimed with a laugh.

I grabbed her hand and, smiling evilly, drew her into a hug. When she murmured, her arms hugging my waist, I slipped a hand down inside the back of her jeans to grope a bare buttock.

Leigh Anne squealed and pulled away.

"Six hundred points for a bare skin grope," I said.

She laughed and blushed slightly.

Damn I was horny. For three days we'd played this game, a little tease when we had a few moments alone. My game from the Louvre Museum had evolved with strictly defined points; over clothes were the lowest points, bare skin the highest, with the level increasing with more intimate touches. I rather enjoyed it but it had this awful side effect - I'd get a raging erection every time we played it.

When we weren't stealing arousing gropes, Leigh Anne showed her newly acquired feminine wiles, giving me sexy peeks at her panties from behind her step-mother, kissing my cheek with a little tongue touch, eyes twinkling. On one occasion, as I sat at the kitchen table at breakfast before leaving for work, Karen sitting across from me. Leigh Anne appeared silently in the doorway and smiled at me. Her smile became a grin when she edged the hem of her nightshirt up. My blood pressure rose lock-step with her hem and I was erect when a bare little pussy peeked out at me. Smiling, she turned and left the doorway.

Now Wednesday, I was seriously debating propositioning Karen I was so damned horny.

"When can we be alone, Dad?" Leigh Anne asked in a low voice.

"I don't know. Karen hasn't been going out as much," I said.

Leigh Anne moved close to me, helping with washing after-dinner dishes. She whispered, "You're not having sex with her, are you?"

Checking behind me, I cupped my daughter's sweet, concerned face, angled it up and bent. "I am not," I said, kissing her mouth gently. "But I want you quite badly," I added with a caress of her soft cheek.

She smiled with pleasure. "Kay." Dark-gray eyes sparkled, a thoughtful expression emerging.

LEIGH ANNE STARED AT the ceiling, her room in darkness. Emotions had been cascading through her like a rollercoaster. This evening when Dad had been groping and playful she'd been thrilled, so happy. It had been three days since they'd come back and she missed him even though he was home. For some reason Karen wasn't going out as much and Dad wasn't stopping by before he'd go to bed.

Every time she thought of Dad sleeping with HER, she became angry and jealous. Was she trying to seduce Dad tonight? Oh, no! Had Dad gone to bed horny because of how she'd teased him in the kitchen?

Rolling onto her front, Leigh Anne gathered a pillow and hugged it. It was a real problem. She wanted to love Dad just like in Paris, long and so exciting with orgasms she was incapable of achieving on her own. She wanted to sleep snuggled up to Dad, wake up to his smile and manly scent and make lazy love. She knew he wanted to, too. But with Karen home she couldn't do anything. And sooner or later Dad was going to have sex with Karen just to get relief.

Then it struck her. She knew what she needed to do. She had to find a way to keep Dad sexually satisfied so he wouldn't be tempted, and be able to do it even when Karen was home. Smiling, Leigh Anne decided that, if she couldn't get Dad alone to make love, she could figure out a way for them to have a quickie. That was the answer. Quickies!

A twinge of arousal hit when she pictured giving Dad oral sex. Jeez. She hadn't even tried that yet. But that she could do for him almost anywhere. What would it be like to have his erection in her mouth? Or have Dad cum in her mouth? Would she let him? It sounded a bit yucky but if it made Dad happy and kept him away from Karen, maybe. Anyway, he'd given her oral sex, so maybe she should do it for him. It was only fair.

Reaching down, Leigh Anne caressed her pantied pussy wishing Dad was with her. Lovely stabs of arousal added to her dampness, strengthened her need. She needed relief, badly.

Wait! Dad used to come to her room. Why not now? Maybe she could try this quickie thing tonight.

Rising, she tiptoed out of her bedroom and down the hall, easing Dad's bedroom door open, holding her breath. Good. They weren't having sex. They weren't even cuddled together! Moving to the bedside she gently shook Dad's shoulder.

When his soft sexy dark-gray eyes opened, she smiled, put her finger to her lips for him to be quiet and, with a wave of her hand, told him to follow her. She left the bedroom.

Waiting in her room her heart jumped when Dad entered, dressed in his pajama bottoms, tall, strong, bare-chested. She went to him slipping her arms around his waist, pulling his body to her firmly, looking up at him, and inhaling deeply.

She sighed, reached up and caressed his rough cheek. "I need you, Daddy."

"But, Sweetheart, Karen might hear," he said, his hands resting on her hips.

"I'll be quiet. I promise."

His smile and the excitement that danced into his eyes sent shivers through her. She rubbed herself against him and trembled when she felt his erection forming against her. She pushed herself hard against it, reaching up, needing Dad's kiss and more.

He smelled of musk and sleep, sexy. His eyes filled her vision, his lips warm and soft against hers. A pulse of arousal flowed through her like a warm wave of water, her pussy moistening even more. Squeezing her thighs together, pressing herself against the bulge of his erection, Leigh Anne opened her mouth and welcomed Daddy's tongue, arousal making her heart patter, and her small breasts feel heavy and achy.

She kissed Daddy hard, her hand slipping between them to find his thick erection, caressing the familiar exciting length, trembling in anticipation of having it lodged inside her, stretching her, making feel so good, making her cum hard. Her pussy pulsed in anticipation. Need made her impatient. She fished for the opening to his pajamas and moaned into the kiss when her hand finally held his shaft.

She stroked it.

He moaned, his tongue probing. She loved how he seemed to melt into her, his hands sliding from her hips to her thighs before making their way up under her nightshirt to cup her bum. She stroked his beautiful erection again, rubbing her thumb over the crown. Finding his slippery precum sent a powerful wave of arousal through her. She loved how she could turn Daddy on, excite him and make him so horny.

When his hands tugged at her panties, she wiggled her bum, letting them fall to her ankles. She let his thick erection go and tugged his pajamas down, his erection popping up to press to her tummy.

"Hurry, Daddy," she urged. "Pick me up."

Holding onto his neck, Leigh Anne wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her pussy to his erection. A shiver of pleasure hit, her clit tingling. Heated, needing Daddy, she reached down between them, grasping his erection, guiding him, the tip slipping through her cleft and across her clit making her inhale sharply. She was trembling, thighs shaking, heart racing. Need Daddy. Need Daddy.

Guiding him, she lodged his erection at her vagina. "Yes. Ready, Daddy," she whispered. Heels tugging, she felt herself stretching, stretching, desire thundering through her. A stab of pain hit and passed as she sank onto his erection, penetrating her, filling her, so good. She felt him go deep. She heard his heated whisper.

"Oh God, you feel good, Honey. I missed this."

"Me, too, Daddy," she whispered, rising and sinking, Daddy's erection slipping ever deeper, filling her and stretching her so wonderfully. She moaned when he finally touched her end, his thick erection rubbing the ache deep inside, beautiful pulses of pleasure radiating out from her pussy, her clit pressed to his groin.

Daddy's hands holding her buttocks felt good. When he lifted her, she felt empty and shoved herself back down, filled, filled. So wonderful. He lifted her again. She shoved down hard, his tip banging into that spot that ached with need, a wince of sexy pain hitting her.

"Faster, Daddy," she whispered, her heart racing, needing to cum, wanting to cum, chasing that wonderful feeling.

"Ooof," exploded from her when Daddy thrust up into her hard, his body slamming against her clit. "Again!" she ordered, rising and shoving her pussy down hard. "Oh God, Daddy!"

"Shhh," he admonished in a loud whisper.

She couldn't. She couldn't stop it. Her climax tore towards her uncontrollably, her pussy tightening, breasts rubbing sensuously against Daddy's chest, panting, fucking my Daddy, fucking my Daddy.

"Yes!" she cried out. Rising and shoving down, humping Daddy, humping Daddy, waves of ecstasy washing over her and stealing her breath away. Through the haze of her climax she felt Daddy's erection swell thickly, rhythmically pulsing, his big hands gripping her bum. Yes! Daddy was cumming in her! She'd made Daddy cum!

Leigh Anne gasped, her climax completely overwhelming her. She drifted, pleasure cresting and fading, leaving her breathless, and exhausted, tired, so tired. Her body went limp.

She felt cool sheets against her. She felt warm lips on her forehead. She heard Daddy whisper, "Night, my love." Smiling, feeling wet below, drained of worry and angst, Leigh Anne slept.

PICKING UP THE RINGING phone, I answered it absentmindedly, concentrating on work. "Ben Larsen."

"Dad! Guess what?"

Smiling at my daughter's voice, I asked, "What?"

"It's Friday!"

I grinned, loving the sound of her enthusiastic voice. "I know."

"Can you get off work early? Karen's gone out for the evening!"

Glancing at my watch, four fifteen, I let my effervescent little girl know I'd be home in thirty-five minutes.

The drive home was fraught with danger. My mind kept drifting. I had a partial erection at the prospect of some alone time with Leigh Anne, something I'd missed sorely ever since returning from France. In some ways I was still reeling from Wednesday night. Sex with Leigh Anne in her bedroom in the middle of the night while Karen slept was so thrilling. But the aggressiveness my little girl had exhibited, almost desperation, had driven me crazy. My climax had utterly drained me, so much so waking up the next morning had been very hard.

I marveled at the power of my orgasms with Leigh Anne. Each one was so much stronger than anything I'd experienced with Karen. Each felt like I was dying a little, la petite mort. And to top it all off, I kept getting erection at the most inopportune times when the memory of how tight my little girl's pussy was came to mind, usually from out of the blue. She was so damned tight I was addicted to her. I couldn't get enough of her.

Now an evening alone with her sounded absolutely delicious.

"I'm home!" I yelled out, closing the front door behind me.

"In here, Dad," Leigh Anne answered.

I followed the sound of her voice, dropping my briefcase, shucking my suit jacked, and loosening my tie. Walking into the kitchen I froze. "Good God!" I exclaimed.

A cheeky grin emerged on my daughter's pretty face when she looked over her shoulder at me. "Remember telling me in Paris?" she asked.

My sexy little nymph was naked except for a pair of tiny gossamer panties and an apron. Her butt curved sensuously, her back arched. Dark-gray eyes twinkled with mischief. Her gorgeous grin broadened. She wiggled her sexy little bottom at me and smiled all sexy-ish. Lord love-a-duck!

Her squeal of excited pleasure when I moved and grabbed her made my smile hurt. I groped a sexy little bum to bright laughter and fondled a perfect little breast as Leigh Anne squirmed to escape.

"Wait! Wait!!" she yelled, laughing. "There's more."

"Huh? More? What more?" I asked feeling a bit breathless and very, very horny.

Leigh Anne extricated herself from my hold and backed away. She smiled impishly, beautiful eyes twinkling with excitement. Turning away from me, she glanced over her shoulder and bent, leaning over the Kitchen table, her sexy ass gaining the most amazing sensual curves, bum crack visible above the gusset through gossamer white. I remembered. I remembered telling her about a fantasy of having sex in the kitchen.

"Well?" she asked, wiggling her sexy butt. "Wanna play around?"

It shook my out of my shocked immobility. I smiled. Sex in the kitchen! Damn! Shucking my pants and boxers, my erection strong, I moved behind her, knelt, and fondled the sexiest little ass in the world, kissing two gorgeous buttocks and, with a racing heart, drew those incredibly sexy panties down over her bum to mid thigh. I kissed each perfect buttock, cool and silky, before pressing my face between her cheeks and into her butt crack.

Peeling her buttocks apart, her anus appeared. I pressed my mouth to her, kissing her, my tongue passing over her rosebud. One hand caressed up the inside of her silky thigh to nestle to her warm, plump pussy, my thumb caressing her moist cleft, pressing, parting her labia to rub her little clit. Leigh Anne collapsed fully onto the kitchen table, her face turned, cheek on the wood. I heard a sigh and, with my face still buried between sexy buttocks, felt her gently clench them.

"You have a world-class bum," I told her, "and the sweetest little pussy, too."

She trembled slightly when my thumb found her vagina, moist and hot and tight. A moan escaped. My cock flexed hard, precum leaking and cooling the tip. Drawing her arousal up, I probed her anus lightly with the tip of my finger. She clenched her buttocks. For the briefest moment I pondered trying anal sex but dismissed it. As exciting as the prospect was, it would take too long and I needed release now, right now.

Rising, I admired Leigh Anne. With the apron still on and her sexy panties collected mid thigh, her wondrous rear curved so sexily, the heart-stopping sight of her lush little pussy peeking out at me from between slender young legs, and sparse pubic hairs dusting her labia, she was a wet dream; my wet dream.

Moving in, I bent over her and whispered, "Leigh Anne, I adore you."

A smile of pride emerged on her pretty face. I kissed her cheek, the tip of my cock brushing her pussy.

Her smile broadened. She playfully clenched her buttocks. "Do you like me like this, Daddy? Bent over the table?"

"Nope. I love you like this," I answered, pressing my erection forwards, her silken labia resisting beautifully.

Standing up, I spread her bum cheeks and cleft with thumbs, pressing the tip of my aching erection to her entrance. The sight was thrillingly erotic, her labia stretching, yielding, my crown oozing in, squeezed tight, suddenly slipping in and disappearing, a snug, wonderful, silky moisture surrounding crown. I loved the sight of Leigh Anne's thirteen-year-old pussy stretched and the sight of my thick shaft penetrating her little pussy. I loved the sight of her almost boyish bum spread by me. I loved how damned tight she was, tightness I associated with youth and illicitness.

Pressing and easing off, pressing and easing off, I watched my cock sink into her, the shaft glistening with her arousal when I pulled back, the sensation of penetrating her deeply sending waves of arousal though me. I fucked my daughter slowly, languidly, beautifully, with long strokes, wonderful strokes, pressing deep, deep, gloriously deep.

"Beautiful," I murmured when twin little buttocks pressed to my groin.

"Uh-huh," Leigh Anne grunted in response, clenching her bum.

Holding two narrow hips I fucked my child, stroking in faster, urgency of a pending orgasm driving my need. I was selfish, seeking my own release. I fucked her harder, the table shaking with each firm thrust, pulling her back against me, her sweet buttocks slapping into my groin.

I loved the sight of me fucking my little girl. Nothing could be more erotic.

Pressure built as my climax stirred. "Almost there, Honey," I murmured, fucking her beautiful pussy deeply, thrusting, burying myself in her tight clasp, her firm little buttocks slapping against me.

"Uh," she gasped. "Close, Daddy."

"I can't hold it," I gasped, suddenly falling off the cliff. My cock swelled and I drowned in the exquisite ecstasy of exploding into my little girl, semen jetting out deep into my child. Pulling back, I gasped and thrust, the table moving with a screech, thick cum erupting, beautiful pleasure, beautiful release. Holding her narrow hips, I thrust and came, cum jetting out in exquisite pleasure, erection aching, cumming, cumming, God cumming hard!

The orgasm passed suddenly robbing me of strength. I collapsed over her back, panting. "Lordy that was good," I said softly.

"Uh-huh. You're heavy, Dad."

"Sorry." Rising, Leigh Anne's tight little pussy expelled me and I was treated to the sexiest sight I'd ever experienced.

Thick white cum leaked out of her vagina and ran viscously down her cleft. It gathered on her inflamed clit and slowly dripped down onto her panties stretched around her thighs. Combined with her small bum and barely pubescent pussy, the sight was shockingly erotic; so erotic I felt arousal return, even if my cock was soft.

I wished I had a camera to take a photo and capture the amazing sight. I wanted to remember this, save it for my private viewing pleasure. Where was my camera?

"Don't move, Leigh Anne," I instructed and, about to go searching, I froze. Panic hit, my heart tripping. The garage door started opening. Fuck! Karen was back? Shit!

"Leigh Anne, quick, get upstairs. Karen's home," I said in a panic.

Leigh Anne straightened, a look of shock on her pretty, flushed face. She yanked her panties up and ran. I grabbed clothes strewn all over the floor and hot-footed it after her, dashing up the stairs and into the shower, tossing clothes onto the floor and starting the water.

KAREN EASED HERSELF OUT of the SUV, the garage doors closing automatically. She was mildly frustrated. Pamela had begged off the evening claiming an emergency. But Karen sensed it wasn't an emergency at all. They'd slowly been growing apart. It wasn't anything in particular, just a friendship evolving and waning. But Karen still felt down. She already missed her lover, those exciting rendezvous in the afternoons, sneaking away from Ben and Leigh Anne, and the excitement of an illicit affair.

Walking into the kitchen, she felt sadness and loss. Oh well. Perhaps she'd find another lover.

Pausing, she sniffed. There was an aroma in the air. It was familiar but she couldn't quite place it. What was it? Shrugging, she dropped her purse on the table. A shower running upstairs; Ben must be home early. Something black caught her eye. Bending, she picked it up. Ben's sock? What was it doing in the kitchen?

She headed to the stairs. She liked Ben, even loved him in her own way. He was a good man, never angry with her, never denigrating, and he let her do her own thing. Sometimes she felt guilty for not wanting sex with him more often. He deserved more than she was giving him, but she needed to be in a certain mood and that had not happened in a while. Maybe their biorhythms were out of sync.

Climbing the stairs she heard another shower running. Was Leigh Anne taking one, too?

Leigh Anne puzzled her. She was a beautiful girl. Karen saw traces of Ben in her in the shape and color of her eyes and the intelligence in them. She was also polite, not friendly, but polite enough. Occasionally Karen wished she had a closer relationship to Leigh Anne. She'd like to have a friend, not a step-daughter. It would be nice to do girly things together. Leigh Anne was at the right age, too, thirteen and blossoming with pubescence, hormones raging, boys on the mind. It would be so much fun to show her stuff, take her shopping, giggle and have secrets.

Walking into the bedroom, Karen started shucking her clothes, searching for comfortable sweats. The shower stopped.

"Hey, you're home," Ben said with a smile, a towel wrapped around his trim waist.

"Yeah. Plans fell through. By the way, I found your sock in the kitchen." Karen briefly wondered at the faint blush on his face. When he dropped the towel to slip on fresh boxers, she wondered at his cock, too. She recognized the slight thickness he'd have after sex. Had he being masturbating in the shower? She wouldn't be surprised given their lack of a sex life. She felt a bit guilty again.

Her thoughts turned to dinner. Not being much of a cook she didn't relish the prospect of making dinner. Was there anything in the freezer?

I SIPPED MY THIRD beer and inadvertently burped. Remnants of two pizzas were strewn over the coffee table and heartburn threatening. I had garlic breath that would slay Dracula at a whiff. I belched unexpectedly from too much beer. Leigh Anne, sitting tight at my side, giggled and offered one of her own, a lighter, more lady-like belch. Karen harrumphed from the armchair in disapproval. I grinned.

The television was showing a series - CSI Crime Scene Investigation - which I rather enjoyed even if it didn't accompany dinner well. Leigh Anne held my hand in her lap on top of her large T-shirt, the one with an angry Donald Duck on it. I recognized it. We'd bought it for me when visiting Disneyland. Leigh Anne had been eight or nine. That T-shirt held wonderful memories for me and, from years and years of laundering, it had become ultra soft, the type of soft cotton that draped beautifully. I thought it looked much, much better on my thirteen-year-old.

With Karen's attention absorbed by something on her iPad and half an eye on the television, Leigh Anne quietly lifted the hem of the T-shirt over my hand. She concentrated on the television as if nothing was happening. I had a wonderful, firm yet soft bare thigh under my hand. Her skin was flawlessly smooth.

While sipping my beer, Leigh Anne's hand pressed mine, inching it up her tender young thigh. A small smile curled her lips, her attention not wavering from the television. When silky soft pubic hairs brushed the side of my pinkie an erection formed. Leigh Anne was naked under the T-shirt. How delightfully naughty of her!

I glanced down at her. Dark-gray eyes looked up at me. She gave me her "Little girl" look and her finger toyed with the neck of the T-shirt, fluffing it as if she was hot. I got peeks of her sexy little naked boobs down the front, lovely pink areolae and soft nipples, a stunningly sexy sight. Squeezing her bare thigh I frowned at her, my cock flexing. She smiled sweetly. What a tease.

And then my hand discovered moisture and I physically shook. I knew what it was. Leigh Anne was leaking semen I'd deposited earlier that afternoon. Just like that I was horny again and facing an evening of agony. It wasn't fair!

With an evil grin, I decided some teasing was fair play. Turning back to the television, I gently teased my daughter's pussy, caressing her cleft lightly, just enough to drive her nuts. When she began squirming I smiled. When her hand held my wrist and tried to press my hand to her pussy for more simulation, I resisted.

Unintelligible muttering began. I chuckled. Beautiful dark-gray eyes frowned at me and I chuckled some more, removing my hand from her lap completely.

"Are you uncomfortable, Honey?" I asked nicely.

Karen glanced up, smiled and returned to her iPad. Leigh Anne frowned at me, probably unhappy at losing.

My evilness wasn't finished, though. I'd teach her for teasing me. Bending, I whispered in her ear, "You've made me so horny I'm going to have to get relief with Karen tonight."

A shocked expression emerged on her pretty face. "You will NOT!" she exclaimed.

"Not what, Dear?" Karen asked.

"Nothing," Leigh Anne muttered, edging away from my side in a snit.

Grinning, I slipped an arm around her and tugged her back to my side. She shrugged to displace my arm unsuccessfully and finally sat rigid at my side. I quite enjoyed her cool mood. Served her right. I still had an uncomfortable hard-on, though.

Every so often I'd move to reach for a beer. I'd placed it to Leigh Anne's side deliberately. Somehow, every time I reached, my arm would brush lightly against her little boob. Every time it did, I whispered, "Ten points," and smiled.

I adored my daughter's distress. Her frown was too cute for words and I really, really wanted to kiss it away.

LEIGH ANNE SAT FUMING, her body aching. She was both angry at Dad and thrilled at the same time. It astonished her how subtle he could be and still touch and tease her. Her pussy ached pleasantly. If it wasn't for his comment about sex with Karen, she'd be quite happy, if slightly frustrated. But that comment wouldn't leave her. She sat stewing, trying to find a way to punish Dad. Just the thought of Dad having sex with Karen bothered her. And then it hit her. Yes!

Jumping up, she left the den. "Be right back," she threw over her shoulder. Racing upstairs, she stopped briefly in the bathroom to wipe her pussy. She dashed into her bedroom and fished around in her backpack, withdrawing her iPad.

Grinning, she danced down the stairs and into the den.

"Look, Dad," she said. "I wanted you to see the photos I've taken." With that, she sat in his lap sideways, her back to Karen. With a sweet smile, she wriggled to get comfy, feeling his erection. Serves you right, Dad.

Turning on the iPad, she swiped to a folder, typed in her password and tapped on the first photo. "So, what do you think?" she asked.

I'D MET MY MATCH. I was indeed impressed and proud and now achingly horny. I was also as shocked as hell and glanced up to make sure Karen was paying us no attention. Leigh Anne showed me a photo of herself taken in the bedroom mirror, stripped down to her sexy bra and panties and posing.

"Um, nice." I said.

"How about this one? Like it?"

My cock flexed. Leigh Anne was tugging the edge of her panties down over her hip, partially turned, the top of her bum crack visible.

"Very nice," I said.

"And this?" she said with a flick of her finger.

I gasped quietly. My little girl was bent at the waist, her ass towards the mirror, looking over her shoulder, her pantied pussy oozing out between the gap of her legs. A sexy little camel toe was visible. Fuck.

She squirmed on my erection - deliberately!

"Look at this one. It's good, isn't it?"

Leigh Anne had lost the little bra, her arm covering her petite boobs, her plump little pussy pressed against the front panel of diaphanous white panties, faint pubes visible. My erection flexed.

Leaning in, Leigh Anne whispered, "I have some naked ones, too. Wanna see?"

We were interrupted by Karen yawning and announcing she was hitting the sack.

"I'll be up in a while, Honey," I told her, watching her leave. Waiting until I heard the sound of a bathroom door close upstairs, I immediately started groping Leigh Anne. She writhed and giggled quietly, every move pressing her sweet bottom against my erection. When I tried to grope between her legs, she reflexively snapped her thighs together, giggling with delight.

But suddenly she stopped. Her eyes twinkled at me. She grinned and parted her legs. I had a handful of my daughter's sexy pussy and case of extreme horniness.

A toilet flushed upstairs. Quiet ensued.

"I'm in a rather desperate condition thanks to you," I told Leigh Anne quietly.

She smiled with pleasure and slipped off my lap. That wasn't what I'd expected. But, when she returned, this time she straddled me, her knees to my side and T-shirt rucked up exposing lovely thighs. I grinned.

Leigh Anne bent and gently kissed my mouth. I inhaled deeply though my nose, taking in the addictive scent of my little girl. Her hand started fiddling with my jeans. A button popped. A zipper being opened rasped loudly in my ears. Small warm hands burrowed.

No slouch myself, my hands slipped to her rear and successfully eased the hem of her T-shirt up. I quite happily groped my little girl's ass, caressing her back underneath the Tee and, with a deep sigh of pleasure, slipped my hand around to her front to gently fondle an unfettered little boob, a sexy little thing, firm and perky and beautiful. Leigh Anne paused briefly when I teased a soft nipple.

Her mouth found mine for a hurried kiss while her hands became active again, shoving jeans, digging into them, a small hand finding and wrapping around my shaft. It pulsed at her wonderful touch. Unfortunately it was securely buried pointing out towards my hip. Leigh Anne's frantic tugging was doing nothing, just hurting me.

"Wait," I said, lifting my hips and shoving the jeans down to the top of my thighs.

As soon as I sat, Leigh Anne was fishing for my erection again, her breath hot against my shoulder. I went back to fondling a little boob and thoroughly enjoyed my daughter's desperate fumbling inside boxers. It was incredibly erotic to have her so excited, so aroused, so . . . aggressive.

"Finally," she muttered, my cock springing up.

I laughed.

A creaking step on the stairs had us suddenly straightening up in a flurry of activity, Leigh Anne slipping to my side, my heart racing. A fridge door opened and closed. Karen made her way back upstairs. Two minutes later I was shoving my jeans down again and Leigh Anne was straddling me.

She leaned in, her hand gently stroking my shaft, and kissed me sweetly, her hair tickling me where it hung loose from her ponytail. I used both hands to draw her T-shirt up and gently fondle her breasts, so small yet so perfect. I just adored them.

Leigh Anne murmured and broke the kiss, breath panting. She gripped my shaft and rose, rubbing the crown through her pussy, spreading her cleft and stimulating her clit. I caressed her gorgeous breasts and let her do all the work. She moaned with arousal and swiped my crown through her cleft, up and down, each swipe pressing me deeper until, with a pause, she nestled it to her vagina. She was very slippery. I was very, very horny.

That first exquisite sensation of her pussy yielding, stretching to take in her father's erection had me breathing hard. The exquisite feeling of Leigh Anne slowly working herself onto my rigid cock had my heart racing. And, when she finally settled, her buttocks on my thighs, her pelvic bone pressed to my groin, and my aching erection held in a tight paradise, it flexed sharply, a pulse of pleasure hitting me. I could have easily cum with no further stimulation, but Leigh Anne had other plans.

"Don't start yet, Dad."

She sat quite still, her forehead on my shoulder, her pussy snug and warm.

"Don't please," she whispered when I caressed her boobs.

Leigh Anne treated me to the most unusual, deeply enjoyable sex I'd ever had. She started literally massaging my erection with her vagina, small clenches, tightening and easing off. My tip was pressed firmly to the entrance to her womb. I was completely buried in her and adored how she surrounded my aching cock so tightly. There was no more room inside her. None.

The silence was broken only by the quiet sound from the television and my heart beating in my ears. This was quite incredible. Sitting on the couch in our den, my cock penetrating my thirteen-year-old daughter, throbbing pleasantly from her tight warmth, and two of the sexiest little boobs in my hands, reinforced how exciting and illicit it was. There was the added thrill of being caught, of Karen descending again. I was in heaven.

Leigh Anne gently caressed my erection with her pussy using soft clenches that were so damned arousing. My cock pulsed and throbbed inside her. I thought I could actually feel precum leaking into her with each pulse.

She inhaled deeply, slowly. "I like it like this, Daddy," she told me softly.

"I've never felt anything quite like it, Honey."

"Does it feel good," she asked in a whisper. "Do I feel good?"

"What do you think?" I asked, flexing my erection hard.

"Kay."

Her hands held each side of my neck, her cheek on my shoulder, and slowly, exquisitely, my little girl fucked me in the most amazing way, not moving, no thrusts, no grunts, moans, goans or gasps; just a tight, moist vagina softly clenching, gripping my hard erection, relaxing, gripping. Sweet warm breath wafted against my neck accompanied every so often by a sigh of pleasure.

"I love this, Daddy," she murmured. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

"So do I," I assured her, my hands still holding two delectable little breasts.

"Don't," she whispered when I caressed her nipples with my thumbs. I stopped.

Leigh Anne's clenches changed. Her breath on my neck lost its gentle rhythm. It sounded like she was holding her breath then releasing it, holding it, releasing it, her snug pussy matching her, tight, relaxed, tight, relaxed, milking me.

I hadn't stroked once yet I knew I was going to cum. Somehow, not moving intensified every single sensation. I swore I could feel my crown swelling and leaking precum. I could feel Leigh Anne's entrance as a tight band at the base of my shaft. I could feel her heartbeat through her little breasts. I hadn't stroked once yet I was quite convinced this orgasm was going to be very, very painful, my arousal was so damned high.

Leigh Anne paused when we heard a toilet flush again. A minute later she resumed, this time adding an almost imperceptible curl of her crotch. The effect was stunning. Somehow she was caressing my crown buried deep inside her, just the crown. How? How the Hell did she learn this stuff? She was making love to me in a way no woman ever had.

When her clenches strengthened and sped up, her tight, tight pussy milking my erection, and her hot breath panting, I couldn't stop myself. I caressed her succulent little boobs gently, squeezing lightly, tweaking and teasing her nipples. I adored her heated murmur.

My erection felt huge to me, thicker than ever. I pulsed rhythmically inside her, the precursor to a climax. "I can't hold back much longer," I whispered.

Leigh Anne moaned quietly, her pussy milking me, milking me. "Now, Daddy. Cum now," she whispered.

As if she'd commanded me I did, my erection swelling, an unbelievable pressure building. Pain emerged deep in my groin. My whole body cramped. I gripped Leigh Anne's narrow hips, inhaled deeply and froze. Nothing. Nothing. Agony. I came, massively, semen exploding from me into her little womb, my body shaking hard. Pain hit, I froze. Another agonizing pulse tore through me, my crown swelling, semen erupting in a long, endless, painful spurt. Gasping, my body twitched, semen erupted, bliss, bliss. Heaven opened and I started ejaculating wildly, each intense spurt bringing sweet ecstasy, my body trembling, cumming, cumming, Jesus cumming!

Chapter Six: Our Not-So-Secret Secret

KAREN SAT IN HER SUV, the engine running and air-conditioning keeping the hot afternoon Californian sun tamed. Shoppers entered and left Whole Foods Market pushing laden shopping carts. She sat quietly, her mind busy.

When Ben had come to bed last night she'd been sure she'd picked up the scent of sex, that unmistakable aroma. But how? she'd wondered.

Then this morning she'd gathered clothes for the laundry and discovered incredibly sexy diaphanous white panties in Leigh Anne's room. They were stunningly sexy little panties the right size for a little girl. Where had she got them? Reading the label she'd immediately known they were from Paris. Had Ben bought them for her? Her father? They were far too sexy for a casual purchase.

Then she'd noticed a stain on Leigh Anne's discarded T-shirt, the one she'd worn yesterday evening. Karen recognized semen stains when she saw them. Everything had come together with shocking clarity; Ben was having sex with his daughter.

While she should have been outraged, she wasn't. Not at all. And that in itself was astonishing. Leigh Anne was a very pretty, very sexy little girl, those dark-gray eyes quite captivating. Just imagining Ben in bed with Leigh Anne and Karen experienced a storm of arousal. She didn't try to understand why, but the idea was thrilling to her; one of the most erotic concepts she'd ever considered.

Sitting in the SUV, Karen wondered what it would be like to make love to Leigh Anne, to feel her young body, the firmness of newly developing breasts. Did Leigh Anne have pubic hair? A small bush? Was her pussy hairless? Each thought brought arousal with it. What would it be like to make love together, all three of them. Scenarios and positions floated through her mind. She squeezed her thighs together, pussy pulsing with arousal, her breasts growing heavy and needing to be touched.

In the cool interior of her SUV, in the parking lot of Whole Foods Market, Karen did something she hadn't done in years. She slipped her hand into her jeans and masturbated, caressing her clit, dampening her panties, breath ragged. She bowed her head onto the steering wheel and, picturing the three of them together loving each other, having sex together, Karen climaxed, her body shaking, pleasure thundering through her. She shook and trembled though an intense orgasm.

When it passed, she straightened her clothes, checked her hair in the rear view mirror and stepped out to shop, her mind now preoccupied with how to bring about her vision.

THE KITCHEN WAS QUIET. Saturday was lazy. I debated taking a swim but didn't have the energy or enthusiasm to change. Leigh Anne was off at a friend's house much to my chagrin. With Karen off shopping it would have been the perfect time for a sexy romp. It seemed no matter how much Leigh Anne and I did, I wanted more. I couldn't get enough. I'd never experienced orgasms like those I had with my daughter. Why? I had no idea. But, I did know I was beginning to yearn. The sex was fantastic - the best I'd ever had - but in truth, I wanted to sleep with Leigh Anne in my arms, her scent in my nose. I wanted to wake up to her messy hair and beautiful eyes peeking at me, her coltish body naked and splayed out in odd positions. And I wanted to see that heart-stopping smile she'd give me, hear her say "Morning, Dad."

For the first time I was beginning to consider a divorce from Karen. I hadn't reached that point yet, still restrained by a commitment to wedding vows and a memory of how it had been between us in the beginning.

The grinding sound of the garage door opening reached me. I stood from the table. With nothing to do I might as well help Karen with the groceries.

"What did you buy?" I asked, unloading bag after bag from the back of her Acura MDX. "Did you buy the whole supermarket?"

Karen laughed brightly. It surprised me. I hadn't heard her laugh in quite a long time, so long I'd forgotten how nice the sound was. We unpacked in the kitchen, finding room in the cabinets and fridge for all manner of things. She surprised me again when she told me she was going to cook dinner. She hardly ever cooked. And then, with groceries put away, Karen asked me to join her for a swim in the pool.

What was going on?

I was reminded how sexy Karen was when she emerged in a red bikini. Tall and slender with a tapering waist, a flat, well exercised stomach, and slim toned legs, she was really rather sensual. Exercise was clearly her friend. I wondered where we'd diverged. What had happened? When? Then, remembering Leigh Anne's comment about her having a girlfriend, I smiled. I really could be quite naive at times.

"How's the water?" she asked with a smile, dropping her beach towel over the back of a patio chair.

"Very refreshing." I answered, floating on my back and watching her, wondering what she'd look like making love with another woman. That would be something to see.

We swam gently, relaxed, chatting inanities; a polite, comfortable conversation. It was very nice, reminding me of when we first started seeing each other, an easy familiarity. It was also strange, as if we were talking around something. And when we sat on the patio drying in the sun, that something emerged.

Handing her a tall frosted glass of iced tea, I sat, stretched my legs out enjoying the sun's heat and sipped, a long cool gulp of tea refreshing me.

"Ben, can I ask you something without you getting upset or lying?"

"Okay," I answered hesitantly.

"Before I do, I want you to understand I'm not judging or condemning or disapproving," Karen said seriously.

"Oookaay," I said, becoming a bit concerned.

"Are you having a sexual relationship with Leigh Anne?"

The initial panic that hit stole my breath. My pulse raced. Clearly our secret was not so secret after all. What followed was the weirdest conversation I'd ever had. It was at the same time disconcerting, exciting, fascinating and full of surprises.

By the time Leigh Anne came home, mid-afternoon, Karen had left. Not permanently, just for the afternoon to give me time with my daughter.

"You're kidding, right?" Leigh Anne asked in astonishment, her dark-gray eyes wide.

"No. As it happens, I'm not."

"She said that?"

"Yes. How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know, Dad. I mean . . . really?" she asked, still astonished.

Leigh Anne hadn't reacted quite the way I'd expected. It seemed the females in my life were full of unexpected surprises. Karen and I had talked for over two hours. Everything had come out; her girl friend, our relationship, how the relationship with Leigh Anne had developed, and how I felt about it.

Karen had been fascinated by the strength of the orgasms I experienced with Leigh Anne. She was equally at a loss to understand why, but quite accepting. She explained how she uncovered my sexual relationship with Leigh Anne. But the shock came when Karen told me about her own reaction - in the parking lot of Whole Foods? That image actually aroused me and I told her it did. She talked about her picturing me having sex with Leigh Anne with her present and the powerful arousal it brought. But, even more fascinating was her desire to make love to Leigh Anne, with me there, all three of us together. I had to admit the idea excited me, too.

By the time we'd finished talking I was aroused and seriously considered taking Karen to bed, aroused by her, not my daughter, for the first time in a long time. She seemed interested, too, but I owed Leigh Anne a conversation.

Now Leigh Anne was surprising me, too. When I'd mentioned Karen wanting to join us in bed, she hadn't really objected after I reassured her I desired her more than Karen. But her shock when I mentioned Karen would love to make love to her, too, didn't come with horror or disgust but surprise.

I didn't really understand her reaction. I was quite sure I'd never climb into bed with a guy, but girls seemed to perceive same sex differently.

Leigh Anne looked at me speculatively. "Would you'd like it if we were all together?" she asked.

"I think so. I'd like not having to keep what we do a secret."

Leigh Anne was silent for a minute or two. "Would it excite you to see us together?"

"You and Karen? I think so. Would it bother you?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully, her eyes losing focus as she imagined it. She shook her head. "I'm not a lesbian," she said.

"Have you ever practiced kissing with a girlfriend?" I asked. A huge blush gave her away.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"I didn't. Your mother told me she used to when she was young. Anyway, I'm not telling you to do anything, just talk to Karen. Will you do that for me?"

"Kay," Leigh Anne answered, still distracted.

Sipping beer at McKinley's bar, I stared into nothing. Karen and I had switched places. She was home talking to Leigh Anne. I was here giving them space and privacy with an overactive imagination conjuring up all sorts of wild scenarios.

I hadn't considered the three of us together. In fact, I'd never experienced a threesome. It wasn't something I'd ever been interested in either. But, if Leigh Anne wanted to, I was most certainly interested now.

How would it work? Who would do what to whom? The permutations were quite intriguing.

"Another beer, please," I asked the barman, motioning by waving an empty glass.

Enjoying my active imagination and feeling slightly aroused, a sudden thought doused my pleasure. It wouldn't work. It could never work. I knew my daughter too well. She would do anything to please me even if it was distasteful to her. I knew Leigh Anne would probably accept whatever Karen proposed and that didn't sit well with me, not at all.

Suddenly I felt an urgent need. I needed to talk to Leigh Anne. I needed her to understand I had no expectations of her, no demands. She needed to know she was absolutely free to say no and it would not affect my love or affection for her. She had to be told.

I checked my watch - quarter to six - they'd had almost three hours. Tossing back the beer, I rose. The idea that my little girl would do something she didn't like just to make her father happy really bothered me. It was so, so wrong.

The house was unusually quiet. There was no sound of a television turned on or noises from the kitchen, noises I'd expect to hear at almost six o'clock.

Straining, I heard faint voice, Leigh Anne.

"Yes, right there."

Glancing up, I started up the stairs.

Bright contagious laughter erupted. "That tickles!"

What tickles? My pace increased. I arrived at the top.

"Wow. Do that again."

I heard a muffled sound. Moving faster I strode down the hall and stepped into the master bedroom. My jaw dropped.

Two slender legs bent at the knees framed a spectacularly sensual naked ass. The tableau that greeted me hand me erect in record time. I couldn't see faces but I recognized all the body parts.

Those legs were Leigh Anne's. Karen was bent over kneeling between them, her gorgeous ass raised. Karen's pussy was framed by her thighs and it was bare, shaved, completely devoid of pubic hair, something I hadn't seen before, and damn!

"Ohhhhh. That's goooood," Leigh Anne exclaimed in a groan.

Moving slightly to one side I was treated to Karen's face buried in my daughter's pussy, her nose pressed into Leigh Anne's soft sparse pubes. Blue eyes looked up at me. The edges of her eyes crinkled. Karen was smiling into my little girl's pussy!

Leigh Anne's hands held her little boobs. Her pelvis twitched.

"Oh gawd. Just like that," she gasped.

"Honey?" I asked.

Dark-gray popped opened. She saw me. She grinned broadly. "Dad! You're home."

About to ask some pressingly important questions, I stopped. Leigh Anne's eyes lost focus. I recognized that expression.

"Oh, jeez," she groaned, her thighs twitching. "Gawd, Dad. Karen's got fingers in both my . . . Oh m'God! Oh m'God! Uh! Uh!"

Stunned, I was treated to Leigh Anne climaxing, her eyes closing, body shaking, stomach muscles straining. She grunted and heaved, breath held, expelled, body shaking. I had a raging erection tight in my pants.

When Leigh Anne calmed Karen moved away from her pussy and smiled at me, her blue eyes twinkling unlike I'd seen before. Her lips were glistening from my daughter's secretions. She turned to Leigh Anne.

"So how was that?" she asked, caressing Leigh Anne's knee.

Leigh Anne's eyes opened. She grinned. "That was good. You were right; it's different from the ones I get with Dad. Good but different."

"I . . . What was that about fingers?" I asked, still in a state of shock.

Leigh Anne closed her legs and rolled onto her side, hand supporting her head. "Karen told me you love anal sex. You know, in the bum," she told me quite calmly. "How come you never told me?"

"I . . ."

Glancing at Karen, she smiled at me, moving up on the bed. "I know you do from experience," she said. "So how come you didn't tell your gorgeous little lover?"

"I . . ."

"What else haven't you told me, Dad? I thought we only had secrets from Karen, not between us."

"I . . ."

Karen settled behind Leigh Anne; maturity framing youth. Her slender hand caressed my daughter's shoulder and upper arm lightly. For some reason I couldn't drag my eyes away from that hand. It slipped over and, with the pads of her fingers, she lightly teased my little girl's nipple. God Almighty it was sensual; a languid touch.

"Karen was showing me what it would feel like," Leigh Anne said.

"What?" I asked.

"The fingers. You asked about fingers, Dad. She had two in my . . . you know . . . my butt, and another in my pussy."

"Stop. Stop talking for a moment," I ordered. I needed to catch up.

I breathed deeply a few times under the watchful dark-gray eyes of my daughter and the blue eyes of my wife. If I understood this, Karen was . . . what? Teaching Leigh Anne? How the Hell did anal get into a conversation between them? And how the Hell did a somewhat hesitant daughter end up naked in bed with her step mother inside three hours?

"Are you going to get undressed, Ben?" Karen asked. "Your daughter wants to try something with you."

"Wait."

And when did Karen shave her pussy? Had it been that long since I'd seen her naked?

"C'mon, Dad. Do you need help?" Leigh Anne asked, patting the bed in front of her.

Somewhat distractedly I undressed, still trying to work things out. My erection caught in the boxers making me yelp from a jab of pain. Leigh Anne and Karen thought it hilarious. I didn't.

Climbing onto the bed, Leigh Anne made room between them. She rolled to face me and immediately reached out and gently took my shaft in her hand. The sight of her small hand holding my erection still thrilled me. She gave it a mind-numbingly squeeze before smiling at me sweetly.

"You can kiss Karen if you want," she said. "I don't mind."

Since when? I turned to Karen with a questioning expression.

She smiled softly. "Leigh Anne explained her . . . opinions about me. I assured her I wasn't planning on stopping her from being with you." She leaned in and kissed me softly, a loving kiss I hadn't felt in a long time, full of promises just like I remembered.

Her hand cupped my balls. Rational thought became a mite difficult.

"Here you go," Karen said, reaching behind her and passing a bottle to Leigh Anne.

My daughter smiled and let my shaft go, much to my regret. I watched as she flipped the top of the bottle cap up and, upturned, squeezed viscous liquid into her palm. My erection bobbed. I recognized lube when I saw it.

My eyes slightly crossed when a cold hand started spreading lube up and down my erection. It glistened. I throbbed. Leigh Anne couldn't be serious, could she? There was only one reason I'd need lube.

"Kay. Sit up," she instructed.

I did, struggling only slightly.

"No. Sit with your back against the headboard, Dad."

I shuffled back. Karen smiled at my growing amazement, her eyes bright with amusement. Leigh Anne rose and stood astride my legs, peering down at me and my slippery cock from on high. She smiled. I was, I admit, a tad dizzy from the sight of my little girl's sexy pussy so close to my face. Reaching between her legs, I reached up to hold her sexy little buttocks and pulled her pussy to my mouth.

Her scent was quite delicious, so I tasted, lips kissing pouty labia, my tongue slipping into a sexy little cleft to find her clit, a lovely bead of pleasure. Leigh Anne's hands caressed my hair. A hand stroking my erection distracted me. Two hands on my head, one on my . . . Karen. Man she was talented, her grip starting at the base loosely, tightening as it moved up my shaft, ending with a swipe of a thumb across my sensitive crown before making an arousing journey down to start again.

Things might have progressed along the same line but Leigh Anne pushed my face away from her delectable pubis and started squatting, her labia separating to reveal the glistening dark pink interior.

"You're supposed to hold my buttocks apart, Dad," she instructed softly.

Reaching around her, I filled my palms with a thirteen-year-old bum and pulled those mounds of joy apart. Leigh Anne steadied herself by holding onto the headboard and Karen gripped my erection.

"Ready?" my little girl asked quietly, her eyes level with mine. Damn she was pretty.

"Are you really sure about this?" I asked, still not quite believing she willingly wanted to have anal sex with me.

"It's one of your favorite things, isn't it?"

"No. You're one of my favorite things," I replied with a smile.

"I meant sex things, Dad."

"So did I," I answered, Karen laughing at my response.

Leigh Anne giggled and dropped slightly. The tip of my erection touched her rear. Her giggle faded away, dark-gray eyes staring into mine. Karen moved my erection around.

"There. Whenever you're ready," Karen announced.

There's really no way to describe "hands-free" anal sex. Without the sensation of holding your own shaft every sense is concentrated on the tip of your erection. And, man-oh-man! It started with pressure and no sense there was a opening. Leigh Anne winced slightly and pressed, the hand holding my shaft tightening dramatically.

A sensation started, like a rubber band stretching over my crown. Leigh Anne gasped quietly and lifted off. She inhaled, held her breath, a look of determination forming. I stopped her from pressing down. Her eyes looked at me with surprise.

"I don't want to if it's going to hurt you so much," I said calmly.

Leigh Anne smiled. "It hasn't hurt, Dad. It's just you're so much bigger than Karen's fingers. It's gonna take a bit longer to get it in."

"You sure?" I asked.

My daughter smiled and shoved her bum down. We both gasped. My crown squeezed and popped in, her anus a tight ring around my shaft just under the flared ridge that was tight enough to cause more than just twinges of pain.

"There. See? It's in. It doesn't hurt now."

Gritting my teeth, I suggested she relax and sweet relief hit me when she did. I'd never felt anything quite so tight before. It was just the entrance that gripped me like a vise. My crown was ensconced in her warm, snug butt and boy did it feel great.

"Go slowly, Leigh Anne," Karen advised in a quiet tone of voice.

"Kay."

Leigh Anne moved her bum up and down slightly. She was so tight I made no progress, either out or in deeper. It felt like she was just bouncing gently with my tip caught inside her. But slowly, very slowly, the ring of her anus edged down. Slowly my little girl took more and more of my cock, her bum stretching. Gradually I penetrated her deeper, her ass warm and buttery on my cock. Penetrating her tight bum was exquisitely erotic.

Her cheek settled on my shoulder, her warm breaths wafting against my neck, just as two gorgeous little buttocks pressed to my thighs. I was in, buried to the hilt in my daughter's ass. Jesus.

My cock throbbed inside her, flexing with excitement. The feeling of being ensconced in Leigh Anne's ass with my erection feeling thicker and harder than usual was indescribable. It was so arousing, so damned sexy.

Lifting her sweet little ass, my shaft emerging, I let her down, fucking up into her behind. It was wonderful, but something was missing. What?

Hugging her, lifting and lowering her, I realized what it was.

I had a driving need to rut, to fuck my little girl hard. I wanted to experience hard sex with her. Sitting up with her in my lap wasn't enough, not nearly enough. Suddenly I needed to experience her youth. I wanted to feel how petite she was. Leigh Anne was still a child and I desperately wanted to feel myself covering her slender body, pressing her into the bed, and feel myself fucking my little girl. It was crazy yet a powerful need.

"Wait," I whispered, wrapping my arms around her, my face buried in her neck, and her hair blinding me.

With a few awkward movements I rose to my knees. Leigh Anne wrapped her legs around my waist. My cock pulsed in the tight grip of her rectum. Turning, I lowered her onto her back, stretched my legs out and settled on top of her petite body. God yes. Like this she felt so excitingly small and young..

"Am I too heavy?"

Leigh Anne shook her head, her face buried against my neck, legs and pelvis curled up, my cock lodge deep in her ass.

"Tell me if this hurts," I whispered into her ear, holding her slender shoulders and withdrawing, the ring of her anus squeezing along my shaft. As it reached the ridge of my crown I thrust back into her in one intensely pleasing stroke burying mu erection in her ass, my groin thumping against her pussy. She expelled a breathy grunt, her body shoved up the bed.

"Did that hurt?" I asked in a whisper.

She shook her head. "No. It felt good, Daddy," she whispered, her arms hugging me tight. "Do you like it? Am I doing it right?" she asked in a whisper.

Jesus!

Withdrawing slowly, I fucked into my little girl again, hard, a long exquisite thrust ending with a thump, her grunt, my entire erection buried up her tight little ass. Leigh Anne felt wonderful underneath me, so beautifully petite, young, perfect. Reaching down I held her gorgeous bottom, excitingly small in my hand, withdrew my aching cock and fucked into her hard, completely, her body jerking.

This was it. This was the position.

I started fucking her, rutting, withdrawing, slamming back into her small body, her breath puffing out warmly against my neck with each hard pleasing thrust. It was pure selfish pleasure. I fucked Leigh Anne faster, deep, penetrating her bum as far as possible, pleasure building. Reaching down with both hands, one sweet little buttock in each palm, I closed my eyes and thrust, withdrew, thrust, fucking my little girl, her exquisite ass massaging my erection. The fury of need built, my thrusts becoming desperate, and then it hit. Like slamming into a wall I came.

Groaning loudly, gripping her buttocks, I shoved into her and paused. My erection swelled. Agony emerged, pain, and suddenly release, semen charging up and erupting deep into her bowels. Driven, unable to control my body, I withdrew and shoved deep, her ass suddenly slippery with hot cum. I moaned, swelled and exploded, semen ripping out painfully in a long, long pulse of exquisite pleasure. Suddenly I was fucking Leigh Anne with short, hard thrusts, spurting, cumming, fucking and cumming in her tight ass, humping, fucking her, exquisite pleasure washing over me with every glorious straining spurt, cumming powerfully until I had nothing left but desperate dry heaves.

I collapsed, heart thumping. I had nothing left. I was drained, done, dead. I probably weighed a ton on Leigh Anne and didn't have the strength to lift myself.

"Was it good?" Leigh Anne asked softly, her hands caressing my back.

I could only nod.

Leigh Anne sighed with satisfaction into my neck, her small body relaxing. She clenched her bum squeezing my partial erection.

She whispered to me, "It's okay if you want to have sex with Karen, too. I don't mind anymore. Maybe I'll watch. Would you let me?"

I nodded gain, too drained to talk.

Eventually I eased my partial erection out of her rear and rolled to her side. Eyes closed, I had a sense of Karen and Leigh Anne leaving the bed. Sounds filtered back from the bathroom; water running, indistinguishable voices, a flushing toilet.

When the bed dipped on either side of me and a warm moist washcloth touched my penis, I opened my eyes. My daughter was washing me, her eyes soft and loving, with a small smile of pride on her pretty face.

"I felt you cum, Dad. I felt you cumming inside me. It was like a hot wet feeling. Your erection swells each time, too," she said.

I asked, "Did you cum?"

"No. But that's okay," she added quickly. "I don't mind. Honest."

"Well I'm horny," Karen announced. "After seeing that, I need some relief."

"I can't," I said. "I need time to recover."

Karen grinned broadly. "I wasn't thinking of you, Ben."

"Oh."

Leigh Anne blushed lightly. "Would it be okay if I . . .?" she asked me.

Would it be okay?! "Hell yes," I blurted, bringing a loud laugh from Karen. My daughter's blush intensified.

There was a pause, no one moving. "Well? Go on," I urged. But suddenly my stomach rumbled loudly, very loudly. Glancing at the bedside clock I saw it was seven-thirty. I was hungry. We hadn't had dinner.

"I need to eat first," I said.

Karen asked, "Why?" with a smile.

"For stamina. Come on, let's go," I suggested, rolling and sitting on the side of the bed.

"How 'bout you bring food here, Dad?" Leigh Anne suggested, pulling a sheet up over her and Karen.

"I think that's a great idea," Karen added. "I'll have a sandwich, Ben."

"Me, too. And a Coke, please," my daughter said, her eyes twinkling, a beautiful smile on her face.

"A glass of white wine would be nice," Karen added, smiling.

"Fine. Okay. But don't start anything until I'm back."

Karen's blue eyes filled with mischief. She smiled slowly. "You mean don't do this?" she asked, turning Leigh Anne's face towards her.

Their lips touched. Damn it was sexy! Leigh Anne watched me and I saw a smile emerge as they kissed, my daughter's dark-gray eyes twinkling at me.

"That's exactly what I meant," I said. "None of that until I get back."

"Better hurry then," Karen said, slipping down under the sheet, reaching and pulling my little girl to her.

I hustled, heading out, naked and in a hurry. My mind envisioned all sorts of sexy erotic games I could play with both of them. Maybe a daisy chain, me kissing . . .

"Dad?" Leigh Anne yelled.

"Yeah?"

"Will you bring two of those English cucumbers with you when you come back?"

"Sure. Why?" I yelled, heading downstairs.

"What do you think?" Karen called out.

"You're hungry for cucumbers?" I asked.

Peals of laughter echoed down to me.

"It's not to eat, you nitwit," Karen yelled.

Well fuck me. Visions filled my addled brain; both of them with cucumbers in hand, on their back, legs up in the air, nature's dildo poised.

"Karen's gonna teach me how to deep throat. She said I should start with a cucumber," Leigh Anne yelled out. A loud giggle followed.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph!

"A cucumber's far too big," I yelled back. I mean, I was substantial but not in the same league as an English cucumber.

Karen's voice floated down to me just as I entered the kitchen.

"Bring a peeler, Ben!"

Fuck me. I started laughing. I was a very happy man.