I never intended any of this to happen; but this is how it started:

Children can be strange animals, and I say animals in the nicest possible way, like . . . maybe a kitten or puppy dog.

When our little girl was about two years old, and just getting out of the nappy stage, my wife and I noticed something a little odd about her. Not a physical abnormality, or anything serious like that you understand, but just something unusual.

Often my wife would strip Carly's training panties off (you know, those things like thick towels, but with rubber on the outside) and leave her lying on the floor watching the cartoons on TV. While she lay there, she would rest her hands on her chin and wriggle her hips around; pressing her groin against the carpet. How long she had been doing it neither of us knew; until we noticed it one Sunday when we had been gardening all morning and had slumped on the sofa to recover.

There in front of us was this toddler grinding her crotch against the floor.

"Maybe it's a touch of nappy rash," I told my wife; as she looked at me inquiringly.

Paula went and picked up a tube of zinc-cream; and with the utmost care applied it to the right spot. Carly wriggled even harder as my wife tenderly spread the thick white cream; leading us to believe that we had been right.

As doting parents, we obviously kept an eye on things for a while, and carried out whatever treatment seemed appropriate; but it didn't seem to help. Our little girl still wriggled around on the floor at every opportunity; and not only that but sometimes we would see her doing it in her bed.

We would lay her on her back, tuck her in, and almost before we out of the room she was at it again; turning herself over and rubbing herself on the mattress.

After a couple of weeks of this we started to get worried; wondering if maybe she had some sort of infection or something. We got an appointment with the pediatrician; and as I was working, my wife took her along and explained the problem. It wasn't 'til that evening when I got home and we were eating our evening meal, that we finally got around to discussing what the problem was.

"Well the doc told me what her problem is," Paula informed me.

"Uh Huh," I muttered back through a mouthful of food.

"Yeah. It's not TOO much of a problem though; and it will probably go away on it's own."

"Uh Huh," again through a mouthful of my dinner. "What is it?" I asked; as another forkful of mashed potato was pushed between my lips.

An amused grin spread across my wife's face. "Apparently she's masturbating."

One mouthful of semi-chewed mash sprayed across the table.

"She's WHAT?" I coughed; grabbing a glass of water. "Where the hell did she learn that?" I yelled accusingly.

"She taught herself, Stupid," my wife shot back. "She probably had an itch at some time; and found that it felt nice to rub herself on something. At least that's what the doc said."

I was dumbstruck. I had never heard of such a thing before. "Are you sure? I mean I don't think you're lying of course; but it does seem a little strange."

"The doctor gave me this leaflet thing about it; and gave me the name of a book to check out. I'm going to the bookshop to get it tomorrow," my wife informed me; shaking her head and smiling at my obvious discomfort at the whole thing.

Well that was . . . five, going on six years ago now; and she was right.

The book, by some doctor or other, explained that it was quite normal for a baby to gently masturbate themselves, right from about the age of six months; that we shouldn't encourage it but that we shouldn't chastise her either. It was a normal activity, and we could cause her some reticence toward her body if we told her it was wrong or naughty. So (like good parents) we did as we were told, and just ignored it completely (or tried to anyway).

My wife read the book from cover to cover several times after that. I just relied on what she told me; trusting her to give me all the relevant info.

Well, Carly didn't grow out of it. In fact, she seemed to like it so much she was in an almost constant state of arousal. We would see her wandering around the garden with one hand down the front of her knickers (Good job we've got a high fence.) rubbing furiously at herself. Or we'd catch her sitting on her bed, playing with her dolls; then suddenly stop and rub the hard plastic dolly between her legs for a few moments before carrying on with the game.

Once she was old enough to hold a conversation with properly, and before she went off to pre-school my wife sat her down and explained that it was all right to do it at home, or in private, but that she shouldn't do it in front of other people, especially strangers. Carly nodded solemnly; agreeing with her mother; then skipped off happily to play.

We kept a discreet eye on her for a while; and were pleased to see that she actually took notice of what she was told. When we were out or had friends around, our daughter was the height of discretion, never touching herself once; but when they left or we returned home, it was as if a dam had broken. The little four-year-old would usually dash up to her room and several minutes later (if we were upstairs) we would hear a little whimper and then a sigh from her room. Moments after that she would be downstairs playing quite happily again for an hour or two. Sometimes, if we had been out for more than a couple of hours, she wouldn't even get as far as her room and would just flop onto the sofa, spread her legs, shove her hand own the front of her panties and rub her knuckles back and forth against herself until she felt better.

It was times like that, that it got hard to ignore what she was doing. (Well imagine it yourself. A little girl, hardly more than a toddler, rubbing and fingering the little hairless crack between her legs on your sofa, while you carry on like she's not there. Tough to ignore, wouldn't you say?)

Don't get me wrong here. It didn't turn me on or anything. Christ, she was just a baby.

But it WAS a distraction. Seeing her little face screw up and go all red; then seeing her shudder like that . . . well I ask you . . . wouldn't YOU be distracted?

By the time she had gotten to six-years-old, we found out that Carly had progressed further than just rubbing herself with her hands and stuff.

My wife regularly started finding small bits of coloured paper in our daughter's bedroom; and in particular in her bed. When asked where all the paper was coming from, Carly showed my wife that she had torn the paper wrapping off her wax crayons.

"Why did you do that?" Paula scolded Carly.

"'Cos it hurts." was her reply.

"What do you mean it hurts?" Paula had replied; a puzzled expression on her face.

"When I put them in here," Carly had replied; nonchalantly pointing to her crotch.

Sitting on the bed beside Carly and handing her one of the crayons, Paula had asked what she meant.

Apparently Carly just lifted her skirt; pulled the cotton crotch of her panties to one side; and hunching her groin forward, she pushed the wax stick deep inside the little pink slit between her legs.

My wife told me afterwards that she had just sat there speechless, while Carly slid the thing in and out of herself; grinning all the time she was doing it. She could understand now why Carly had stripped the paper off. It must have felt like sandpaper in that tender little passage.

"I - I'm not sure that's a terribly good idea, sweetheart," Paula had tried to explain. "It might get stuck in there."

"Naw. It only goes in this far," Carly explained unconcernedly; pushing the wax stick in, until only the last half-inch of the four inch crayon remained exposed.

"Well, just be careful and make sure it's clean before you put things in there. You don't want to get an infection down there," was all my wife could think to say; stunned as she still was.

"It's always clean," Carly piped up. "I keep sucking it to make it slippery and that makes it clean."

Paula just stood up and left her to it; shaking her head in disbelief as she went.

We did try to talk her into stopping once; but she became so depressed after the first day, we just let her get on with it. Well, it WAS supposed to be harmless, according to the doctor who wrote the book that Paula had.

Well that was a year or more ago and Carly, to our certain knowledge has carried on as normal . . . Huh, if you can call it normal. My wife found the handle of our daughter's skipping-rope under her bed the other day. No rope attached; just the plastic handle. I didn't even want to think about that.

The thing that really changed things happened just two weeks ago.

Paula had gone out with a couple of her girlfriends for a drink (as they did every Friday night) and left me to babysit. I had the TV turned down low; taken a shower and was browsing around some web sites on my trusty old PC in my dressing gown; when I heard the patter of not-so-tiny-anymore feet, going across the master-bedroom floor above me.

"What is she up to now?" I asked myself.

Carly had always seemed to need less sleep than any other kid I knew; and we would put her to bed at seven o'clock and let her get on with whatever she wanted, as long as she was in her room. It was past nine now and she would usually have fallen asleep. What she was doing in our room I didn't know; but I was sure going to find out.

Silently creeping up the stairs, I was just in time to catch a glimpse of my, now eight-year-old daughter's nightdress, as she slipped back into her bedroom and closed the door.

Ignoring her for a moment, I went into our room to see if I could see what she had been doing. Well, apart from our normally closed wardrobe door being slightly open, there wasn't any sign that she had been in there at all. So I tiptoed back along the landing, and listened at my daughter's bedroom door. For a bit, I felt like a Peeping Tom. There was silence for a few seconds then a little groan, then silence then a little whimper.

Quietly I cracked open the door a fraction of an inch, so I could peer inside (hopefully without alerting my daughter to the fact that her father was spying on her). If everything was OK, I didn't want Carly to think I was suspicious.

The only light in the room came from a small bedside lamp with a low wattage bulb in it; really just to give a bit of security I guess. My little daughter was lying back on the bed with her head propped against the headboard. Nothing unusual in that you might think; but it was then that I noticed what she was doing.

Sometime back, after a business trip abroad, I had brought back one of those shiny white vibrators. You know: the ones they advertise as being a body massager? Yeah . . . right!!

Well after a few trials with it, and a few fun and games, my wife decided she preferred the real thing. Rather than throw it out and have the embarrassment of the trash collector having it roll out the rubbish bag, at his feet, all buzzing and hopping about, it had been relegated to an old shoe-box, with a few dated hard-core porno mags, in the wardrobe.

Yeah I know . . . stupid place to leave it, with a little girl who likes to dress in her mother's clothes and stuff around. But there you go; we aren't ALL perfect. Any normal family wouldn't have had a problem. THEIR kid wouldn't have looked twice at it, if they HAD found it. Looking back, I guess we should have known better really.

Anyway, Carly was slouched down, her knees spread wide, with this long white instrument buried deep inside her. I stood there dumbstruck. How could a slim little thing like our eight-year-old little girl get something that thick and long so far up inside herself? I wouldn't have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes.

Gripping the thing with both hands, she was plunging it in and out of herself at breakneck speed; stopping every so often to stick it in her mouth to make it slippery, before pushing it back inside herself.

Well, I'm afraid that I defy almost anybody not to find something like that a turn-on. I just couldn't help myself. The sight of my little girl, legs spread wide, her little pink pussy lips, all hairless and plump, splayed widely around that thick white shaft was too much for me.

Quietly, so as not to frighten her, I closed the door again and knocked on it gently; giving my daughter time to cover herself or whatever, before opening the door and stepping into the room.

"Hi Daddy," Carly smiled up at me; her legs still spread wide, and the vibrator unashamedly still pressed deep inside her body; making no attempt at all to cover herself.

"What 'yer doing, Pumpkin?" I asked in a cracked voice, as I sat on the side of the bed beside her; my eyes inextricably drawn to the stretched crease of my daughter's bald cunny.

"Just playing Daddy," Carly replied innocently, as she started sliding the thing slowly in and out again; only this time not two feet from her father's face.

Carly noticed my rapidly hardening erection emerging from the gap in my dressing gown before I did.

"Wow Daddy," She cried; reaching out and wrapping her little fingers around it, before I even had a chance to stop her, "you got one of those big things, like in those books in your bedroom."

I'm sorry; but I was lost.

"Um . . . er . . .yeah," was all I could say for a few moments, as my little girl gripped my throbbing erection; tugging it this way and that as she examined it.

"It's all warm and spongy, Daddy. Is this the thing that goes in a lady down there?" she asked; pointing to the length of white plastic wedged in her belly.

"Well . . . Um . . . yeah. I guess so Pumpkin," I stuttered weakly; but flattered that my little girl would associate my seven-inch dick with the horse-hung guys in the magazines.

"Can I try it Daddy?" Carly asked; and before I had a chance to reply, my daughter had extracted the vibrator from inside her cunny, and was clambering off the bed.

Up until the moment I opened her bedroom door, I can honestly say I had never had any lustful thoughts about my daughter. As I said, seeing her rubbing herself and stuff had over the years become part of normal daily life around our house.

Things had changed now.

I've also got to say here and now, that I didn't even try to fight my daughter off.

Carly dropped to the floor and stood between my knees; her big blue eyes shining excitedly, before pulling my dressing gown out the way and, just as I had seen her do with the Vibrator, leaning forward and taking the end of my cock in her mouth to cover it with spit.

I thought my nuts were going to explode there and then. Watching my sweet little girl open her mouth wide and suck my cock as deep into her mouth as she could get it, was almost more than I could take. Fortunately for me and her, she only did it long enough to ensure it was thoroughly wet and shiny, before raising her arms and signaling for me to lift her up and set her on my lap.

I did just that. As I lifted her up, the little minx opened her legs wide, outside mine, and watched as I positioned her over the up-thrust column of my cock. Gently I lowered her until I felt the head of my cock touch the soft warm lips of her little cuntlet.

"Are you sure about this Pumpkin?" I asked; thoroughly excited at the thought of being buried in that tight little tunnel, but still with enough sense to be concerned about my little girl.

"Pleeeeeeeaase Daddy," was all she said, before groaning sweetly as I lowered her onto my cock. Well, who can resist that pleading tone children manage to put in their voices when they want something?

Slowly I let my daughter sink down on me; the sensations running through my overexcited cock unlike anything I have felt before. Eventually, with my arm aching from supporting her weight as I oh-so-slowly slid her down my length, her knees made contact with the bed, and she was able to support her own weight.

Gasping for air, I let myself flop back across the bed; my head propped against the wall; and looked down my body. The cute little eight-year-old knelt astride me; her hairless little cunny firmly impaled on about six of my seven inches, and a big cheesy grin of achievement on her pretty face.

"It's much better than that old thing," Carly told me, nodding toward the again-redundant length of plastic laying discarded on the bed.

"Oh, thanks for the vote!" I grinned back; rolling my eyes at the look of incomprehension on her face; but ignoring it.

Carly took the next step all on her own. With a look of concentration on her face, she lifted, then lowered herself slightly.

"Mnnnn that's nice. It's all warm and bulgy," Carly whimpered, as she started a rhythm of up and down motions; her little legs only allowing her to lift herself about halfway up the length of my cock, before she dropped herself down again.

I tried to imagine what was going on inside that narrow, immature little channel inside her, but I couldn't sustain it. The thought of the moist pink passage stretching and sliding along my cock threatened to push me over the edge before she was ready; so I started thinking of other things to calm me down. Things like counting the corners in the room, and washing the car, etc. I was quickly brought back to reality by the complaint from my little girl that her legs were starting to ache where she was lifting herself.

It was no good though. I had gotten the need and the need needed to be satisfied. Reaching under her cute bare little bum, I gripped the pert cheeks and stood up, supporting her on my hands.

Carly giggled sweetly as I slowly stood up; her little body deeply impaled on my cock; then turned and laid her on the bed without slipping from inside her. (No easy task, when she's so much smaller than me.) I knelt beside the bed with my daughter's cute little backside right at the edge, and started doing the work for her.

"Oohhhh Daddy, that's better," Carly squealed; putting her hands behind her head and watching as I slid in and out of her. "Will that stuff come out of your thing like in those books?"

"I - I 'spect so," I grunted in reply; amazed that my little eight-year-old had taken so much notice of those magazines.

Slipping my hands under her knees, I lifted her legs and planted her feet on the edge of the bed; then pressed her knees outward until they almost touched the quilt; the elasticity of a child's joints never failing to amaze me. Carly continued to grin up at me as I thrust in and out of her; her position allowing me to push into her until my balls were pressed tightly into the crease of her buttocks.

After several more deep thrusts I quickly pulled out; watching the tiny opening between her legs snap shut then leaned over the bed. "Suck it Pumpkin. Make it all wet for Daddy." (It didn't really need it as she was sopping wet from her own juices; but the thought of my little eight-year-old sucking her own flavourings off me, as those pouting lips closed around my cock was so exciting I couldn't resist it.)

Without hesitation Carly did as I asked. Lifting herself on her elbows, she opening her mouth wide, then wrapped those pretty pink lips around me; bobbing her head back and forth as she laved her tongue around the swollen head.

"There," was all she said, as she decided it was wet enough and pulled her mouth off it.

Slipping back down the bed, I again knelt in front of her. Sliding my hands up the insides of her thighs, I pressed my thumbs between the reddened lips of her little crease and split her open to reveal the deeper pink interior; then pushed my cock-head into the tiny elastic opening I had exposed.

Carly whimpered with pleasure and arched her back; urging me inward until my full seven inches were again buried deep in her little tummy.

"Daddy's going to squirt that white-stuff inside you," I croaked; barely able to keep from doing just that; as the very thought and feel of my little girl's cunny sliding tightly over my swollen member until the head poked against the hard lump of her cervix was so intense I almost let my daughter have every drop of sperm I had in me, right then. "Would you like that?" I asked.

Carly just nodded; looking interestedly down between her legs at the thick fatherly cylinder sliding in and out of her tightly stretched little slit. Each time I hit bottom inside her, my daughter squirmed a little; trying to seat my engorged prick as far up inside her tight little tummy as it would go. Obviously, the thought of her own father filling her cute little tummy with cum didn't bother the little girl at all.

Slowly I built up speed again; thrusting firmly into the mushy depths of her clasping passage. Dropping one hand between her legs, I pressed my thumb against the exposed nub of her baby clitty; rubbing at it roughly as I had seen her do. The other hand went up her body and my fingertips stroked the tiny pink nipples on her flat chest.

"That's even better Daddy," Carly yelped; tilting her head back and closing her eyes tightly, so she could concentrate on the feel of my prick sliding in and out of her body, like no plastic dildo or jumprope-handle could ever do.

"Good, Babygirl," I muttered, as I watched, mesmerized by the sight of the shaft of my cock emerging then disappearing between the soft baby-fat lips of her immature young vagina. The feeling of the tight little hole squeezing on it as it entered, and clinging to it as it withdrew, was indescribably good. I could tell my daughter was enjoying it almost as much as I was, if not more.

Carly began to gasp and groan; the narrow passage that massaged my cock flexing and clamping down on me as her orgasm built inside her. "I - I'm getting that nice feeling, Daddy," she grunted; her hips flailing around in front of me.

From the slow gently in and out motion I had been making, I started moving faster; one hand pressing down on her soft warm tummy, while the other continued teasing her hard little clitty.

With a loud gasp, the child's body went rigid; her face flushed and her mouth open wide, as the intense sensations rushed through her tiny frame. "Daddeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" she squealed loudly, as her hips jerked up; forcing me inside her still deeper; her hands grabbing for her crotch and squeezing herself hard. This lasted for several minutes before she slumped limply across the bed, panting to catch her breath.

I was right behind her with my own powerful orgasm. Gripping her narrow boyish hips I held her tightly as I pumped into her; my swollen cock traveling the full length of her narrow slippery channel to bump against the mouth of my daughter's immature young womb.

"Uhng - Ungh - Ungg," she grunted before me, in time to my inward thrusts; my mind heedless to what she was now feeling; as my whole being concentrated on the task of getting my prick to deposit my seed in the child's body. All thoughts of it being right or wrong to ejaculate my sperm in my little 8-year-old daughter were washed away by the incredible NEED to squirt inside her. Not that Carly was complaining . . . far from it, in fact.

As the tingling in my balls reached its peak, I pushed my prick deep inside my daughter's body; the narrow opening that led inside the little 8-year-old gripping the base of my cock like an overtight elastic band.

"Daddy's getting that nice feeling now," I grunted; as I doubled up over her, and the first heated white string of my sperm spurted wetly into my daughter's developing womb. The feeling of that first thick surge of cum rippling through my bulging penis and into the child's belly, was indescribably good.

Carly lay passively under me while I jerked inside her squeezing little cunny; spraying my seed into the little girl's warm spongy depths. Over and over I spat my sperm into the tight little receptacle; flooding my daughter's cervix with gobs of hot fluid, until my balls were totally drained. With my head bent forward against her chest, I too panted for breath; my heart beating fit to explode.

"That was nice Daddy," Carly finally said. "Much better than that plastic thing and my skipping rope. Can we do it again?"

With an exasperated laugh I slowly slid my rapidly softening penis from my little girl's still clasping hole, and sat back on my heels; watching as a greyish trickle of my sperm slowly leaked from the tiny pink opening between her legs, and ran down the crack of her bum.

Carly looked down at the white drop oozing from the tip of my prick; connected by an obscene string to the matching dribble oozing from her slowly closing cunny. "Thanks, Daddy," she said; touching a finger to the white drop, before licking it off. "For a while there, I thought you were going to pull out, and squirt that white stuff all over me, like the guys in the pictures do, and get me all messy. This is much nicer." Carly wrapped her little hand around my wilting prick, as if she thought that by holding and squeezing it, she could make it hard again. (Not exactly an impossible thing, at that.) "Can we do it again, Daddy?" she repeated, hopefully.

"Another day, Sweet Pumpkin," I told her; knowing that there was no way I was going to be able to perform again tonight; and hoping for the first time ever, that my wife wouldn't be "in the mood" when she came home.

"I Think you'd better have a quick shower, and get off to sleep before your mother comes home," I told my daughter. "And you'd better not tell Mummy that you played with Daddy's special toy; because Mummies think it's only for them, and she might be upset if she knows you played with it as well."

"OK Daddy," Carly replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world; and scooted off the bed.

I nearly had second thoughts about being able to get it up again that night, when I saw the thin rivulet of sperm running down the inside of her thigh, as my little girl walked toward the bedroom door.

"Yuck. Your stuff is all sticky," was all she said over her shoulder, as she opened the bathroom door, then closed it behind her.

Unfortunately, you know it didn't end there.

Carly has been like a bitch in heat since then; wanting desperately to get me inside her again.

Two nights ago she came down to give her mother and me a goodnight kiss, as usual; and asked if someone would come up and read her a story.

"Ask your father," Paula told her. "He's only watching the box."

"Daddeeeee, will you read me a story?" she asked; turning to me as I vegged on the sofa.

"Come on then Pumpkin," I replied; dragging myself to my feet and clasping her little hand as we climbed the stairs.

Once safely in her room I realized what she was up to, the devious little minx.

With all her not inconsiderable strength, she pushed me toward the bed until I sat down on it. Carly then grabbed my feet, and lifting them off the floor swung me round until I sitting with my back against the headboard. Once in the position she wanted me, she climbed on the bed and stood straddling my thighs, then lifting her long cotton nightie and showing me she was naked beneath it, plonked herself down on my lap, grinding the plump little pouch of her cunny against my cock, covered only by my thin jogging bottoms.

"Daddy?" She asked, fiddling with the buttons on the front of her nightie.

"What, sweetheart?" I asked; knowing exactly what was coming next, but wanting to hear her ask for it.

"Will you put your thing in me again?"

And that was it. Within moments she had extracted my now hard dick from the waist of my joggers, sucked it until it was dripping with her saliva, then sat herself down on it hard. Slowly she bounced up and down on it; my hands molding the soft round cheeks of her rear, as my little girl impaled herself on seven inches of steel-hard fatherly cock.

The creak of the stairs warned Carly that her mother was approaching before I even heard it. She quickly sat down hard on me; impaling herself to the limit on my prick; while grabbing a book and thrusting it in front of my face. "Quick," she whispered, "Mummy's coming."

"Me too," I nearly replied; until I realized what she meant.

When Paula stuck her head round the side of the door, she smiled at the heartwarming sight of her little girl sitting on her daddy's lap; listening intently to the story her father was stutteringly reading to her.

Even through the fright of nearly getting caught, the exquisite feel of my little 8-year-old's tight little cunny-lips squeezing the base of my dick, her cervix bumping against the head, while her needing little tunnel milked on its swollen length, almost had me spouting thick white cum in my daughter's womb while her mother looked on. Almost.

As the bathroom door closed, and her mother turned on the shower, Carly giggled sweetly. "That was close Daddy. Mummy nearly caught me playing with your thing, didn't she?"

I closed my eyes and groaned at my daughter's understatement; while she returned to bouncing happily on my cock. I think the idea that she was being secretly naughty, playing with the thing only mummies were supposed to play with, appealed to the child.

It was only when Carly and I gasped our way through our orgasms and I had pumped what felt like a bucketful of incestuous seed into the child's tender little womb, that we realized her mother was in the bathroom and that Carly wouldn't be able mop herself up afterwards.

"Don't worry," I said; taking a fresh paper hanky from my pocket and pressing it into the now-satiated crease between my daughter's legs. "This will stop it from making a mess on the bed; but make sure you wash properly in the morning." Then I kissed her softly on the forehead before tucking her down in bed.

"It's OK Daddy," she replied softly, "I don't mind. It feels NICE inside me like that . . . I don't feel so itchy inside afterwards, like when I do it with my jumprope."

Shaking my head, I covered the little girl up, gave her a big kiss, and headed back downstairs; wondering what I had gotten myself (or more correctly my prick) into (other than my own daughter's tight little cunny, that is). Thinking about it now, maybe I was better off not knowing.

I was back in front of the box watching football, by the time Paula came out of the shower, and she told me that Carly was sound asleep at a reasonable time for once, and with a big smile on her face. Surprisingly, even after filling my daughter's cunny with all that sperm, I was horny enough to give Paula a ride in bed like she hadn't had in months. Having already spent myself once in my daughter's belly, I wasn't so horny I needed to cum immediately; while the thought of my little girl sleeping in the other room with my thick white cum oozing in her tight little slit all night long, (after that incredible scene where our daughter had been sitting on my prick right in front of her mother, and my prick dribbling precum and sperm in her cute little tummy, without Paula knowing) kept me hard through orgasm after orgasm of my still sexy wife.

Paula never DID find out what made me able to perform so well that night. At the time, I shuddered to think what would happen if she ever did find out; even though the very thought of my wife watching as I sprayed her little girl's womb full of incestuous seed was quite a turn-on itself . . . even if it WAS incredibly scary at the same time.

The very idea of Paula catching me fucking Carly was thrillingly exciting; even though I knew my wife would probably kill me if she ever found out I was molesting our daughter. Heck, I figured Paula would probably kill me with a dull butcher-knife if she found out I had even TOUCHED Carly in a sexual manner; let alone finding out that I was having full unprotected vaginal intercourse with her little girl. And that STILL wasn't the worst part.

Here I am lying in bed on a Friday night, wide awake and my mind a turmoil of thoughts while my wife, bless her, lies snuggled up against my arm; sound asleep with her soft deep breathing tickling the hairs on my neck.

It had started off like any other Friday night; my wife dashing about; getting dinner ready; tripping over the cat; and talking on the phone to her mother; while at the same time trying to put on her makeup so that she's ready when her mates call.

I was doing the normal male thing . . . sitting watching the TV with a beer, and my daughter sitting beside me.

I (I guess I should say We . . . that's my daughter and I) had been looking forward to my wife's night out for the last couple of days. Carly had even asked me, "Could we play our game when Mummy's gone?" last night. I had of course reluctantly agreed . . . OK yeah; I'm a liar, and there was absolutely no reluctance on my part at all now.

In fact, it seemed that our father-daughter sessions were actually helping things; although thankfully my wife had no idea of the reasons. Our little girl was not playing with herself so much now; or so my wife had happily informed me yesterday. That our little girl would be using her own father's penis to satisfy her horny urges with, never seemed to occur to my wife (thank Goodness).

Anyway, the expected sound of a car pulling into the drive and a horn blaring signaled the arrival of Paula's friends and Paula eventually went out.

Almost before the door was closed, Carly had slid her hand down over my tummy, under the waist of my joggers, and wrapped her fingers around my cock.

"Whoa there! Wait until the car's out the drive," I scolded her; the fear of my wife suddenly coming back making me nervous.

"She won't come back; she never does." Carly threw back; using her other hand to drag the front of my trousers down and pull my rapidly hardening dick out. Leaning over and dropping her head as she sat beside me, Carly engulfed the swelling mauve dome with her mouth and proceeded to suck me to full hardness. Within moments she was madly scrabbling around under her short dress; trying to pull her panties off without releasing the hold her lips had on me.

Reaching over, I used one hand to assist her; the other gripping the shaft of my cock and sliding up and down it in time with my daughter's mouth. Quickly we pulled her little white panties down until they were 'round her ankles. Then I slipped my hand between her legs; cupping it over the entire area of her perfect pink cuntlet.

Carly was all for climbing on my lap and stuffing me inside her as quickly as possible; but with a little persuasion I managed to talk her into just sucking me while I fingered her hot slippery little crease for a while. Gently I massaged the pouting little crack; rubbing the lips together then spreading them and stroking the tiny erect bud of her clitty; each time bringing her close to her orgasm before letting it slip away again.

I loved teasing my little girl like this. Each time she approached her peak, she would suck harder on me; her little blonde head bobbing up and down faster and obscene slurping noises coming from her mouth as she sucked her daddy's cock.

Unable to take too much more, I slid my hands under her arms, and lifting her up, stood her astride me on the sofa; then dropped my hands down and under her skirt. Slowly I rubbed my hands along the back of her thighs; feeling the muscles ripple where it tickled her; then cupped my hands over the pert out-thrust ball of her bottom; gently squeezing it with my fingers and palms.

"Lift your skirt, Pumpkin," I told her; watching as she immediately complied; slowly exposing the deeply split V nestling between her thighs. Leaning forward, I pressed a little kiss against the soft warm flesh above the start of her slit; then poking out my tongue, I slid it into the moist crease.

My daughter's hands clamped at the back of my head, and she pulled my face hard against her groin. "Oowwwww Daddy," I heard her squeal loudly, as the tip of my tongue found her tiny bud and slid across it. "THAT'S Nice," she mewled.

I spent the next couple of minutes lapping along my daughter's vagina; teasing her and dipping my tongue into the amazingly elastic opening to her womb before breaking her grip and pulling my face free. "Let's put it in now," I instructed her.

Bending her knees, Carly dropped into a squatting position and reached underneath herself; gripping my almost bursting erection and positioning it at her entrance.

Once satisfied she had located it correctly and I had a good grip on her rear to stop her dropping herself onto it as she had done before, I let her take me inside herself; my mouth open and my eyes closed as the sensations of a tight eight-year-old vagina squeezing on my swollen peter engulfed me.

We were both too excited for it to last for long; and the avid sucking of that little cunt on my throbbing cock soon brought on the desired effect. With only about twelve deep thrusts, and a lot of huffing and puffing we both, for the first time, came together; with my daughter's tiny abused little channel clamping down on her daddy's sperm-spewing penis at the same time. Carly ground herself down on me; her full weight forcing me deeper than I thought possible; as I, holding her narrow hips held her down on it; my hips bucking upward as each new gout of living incestuous seed was unloaded inside her. It seemed to go on for ever. As each racking spasm passed through my body, another rushed up behind it; my sperm laden balls pumping a fresh powerful stream of hot white incestuous fluid deep into my precocious daughter's developing young womb.

When the spasms finally subsided we just sat there together; Carly with her head pressed against the front of my shirt; me with my face buried in my daughter's fresh, little-girl-smelling hair; while we got our breath back and the last thin trickles of cum dribbled out of my prick and into the child's body where it belonged.

Eventually Carly looked up; and smiling her big cheesy grin, broke the silence. "That was the best Daddy," she giggled, while trying to raise herself from my lap.

Grabbing her hips, I held the little girl down on me; not wanting to break the intimate incestuous connection we had.

"Sit still Pumpkin," I told her. "Just sit there for a while."

Happily Carly did . . . well for a while anyway.

"Can I turn round Daddy? I can't see the telly," Carly asked, after about a minute and a half.

Telling her to lift her knees, I gripped under her arms and lifted her slightly, managing to keep my semi-hard cock still inside her; and swiveling her on it, then set her down again. Carly giggled at this; wriggling herself down on my penis again; then leaned back and concentrated on the TV.

I, for my part, slipped both hands round in front of her, and tucking the hem of her skirt into the waistband, amused myself by softly rubbing her tummy with one hand while stroking the swollen, hairless lips of her immature little cuntlet with the other. It's a strange sensation sitting with a little eight-year-old on your lap, your penis wedged deep inside the leaking little hole you've just fucked; keeping the thick white sperm you've just ejaculated inside her, bottled up in the child's squeezing young vagina. Strangely satisfying, I would suggest.

Well one thing led to another; and about an hour later Carly's wriggling and rapid breathing, coupled with the irregular squeezing of her tight little tunnel on my prick, signaled that the attention I had been playing to the slippery little slit between her legs, had gotten her hot again; not to mention that she now had a bellyful of again-hard cock. I say bellyful, because I'm sure that I could trace the outline of myself deep inside her as I stroked her tummy.

What's that you say? Vivid imagination?

I don't know; but you could sure see her little flat belly swell as I moved in and out of her.

We were in a bit of an awkward position the way we were sitting; Carly with her legs stretched out in front of her and me sitting back on the sofa, made it a little difficult for either of us to move very much. Shuffling forward and spreading my knees, I managed to let Carly's feet down onto the ground and with my backside perched on the edge of the seat; and with Carly bending and straightening her legs she was able to move herself up and down on me. The height between her little bum and my groin was just right to allow a full stroke; but the fact that she stood inside my thighs didn't allow her to spread her legs very much.

The point of this, is the fact that it made her already tight little channel almost painfully tight; and as I leaned back to watch my cock slewing in and out of her, I could see the plump hairless lips of her vagina almost oozing out from between her thighs.

It was so obscene, and yet such a turn-on, that I had to reach out and grab the little girl; holding her still for a few moments to stop from spewing thick white cum inside my daughter's needing little tunnel right then. When I recovered, I let Carly carry on; raising and lowering herself until she complained that her legs were aching.

Reaching forward, I wrapped my arms around my daughter's waist and lifting her, turned her until she was able to kneel on the sofa cushion. Then I proceeded to shaft my little eight-year-old from behind. Playful as always, Carly gripped the back of the sofa and informed my brightly that she had seen two dogs do it like this when she had been at school one day. All the time she was talking, she was ramming herself back at me; taking her father's swollen prick all the way up inside her cute little belly, until it bounced off her cervix.

Kids these days? I ask you.

I leisurely pushed in and out of my little girl for several minutes; watching the overstretched opening between her legs suck me deep inside; the widely spread lips of her baby cunt pressing against my groin as I bottomed out inside her, then pulled out of her, much to her vocal disappointment; and then watched in amazement that the tiny little hole between my daughter's legs, that had been so rudely stretched by having her father's prick buried inside it, could still contract until it closed.

Stepping 'round behind the sofa, I presented my cock to my daughter. "Suck it for Daddy, Pumpkin," I said. "Make it all wet again for him."

Without hesitation Carly did as I asked; parting those pretty pink lips and pushing her head forward until I slipped deep in her mouth. Resting my hands on the back of her head I urged her up and down its length; fucking her pretty face and feeling her little tongue darting back and forth along it. The sight of my little girl sucking me was something else and I dearly wished I had a camera handy to record it.

Wrenching myself reluctantly from her mouth, I again approached my daughter from behind; and after a couple of seconds spent trying to hold her wriggling little bottom still long enough to enter her; thrust myself deep inside her body, and was rewarded by a gratifying groan from the child.

"It - It's so nice Daddy," Carly whimpered; hunching herself back against me. "It's not fair that mummies should be the only ones who are supposed to play with it. I wish I could have it all the time," she complained.

Silently I was beginning to agree with her, as she was far more sexually adventurous than my wife; and certainly willing more often.

We fucked like this for about twenty minutes; my earlier orgasm allowing me to hold back even from the assault of a horny eight-year-old; but eventually it had to end. My daughter is one of the few females that can orgasm just from being fucked (not that I've been with that many; but most seem to need manual manipulation).

[Maybe you're just not a very good fuck? Ed :)]

Not Carly. Within moments of having something inside her, her little body starts a series of little tremors, tiny orgasms that seem to build into one big one at the end; and at that moment she was approaching the big one.

Holding her hips I started working in and out of her harder and deeper; watching as those hairless pink baby-fat lips seemed to turn inward under the assault, until I felt the familiar contractions inside her.

"It's happening Daddy," Carly whimpered, as if to confirm my suspicions; and started throwing herself back at me almost violently. "It's going to happen Daddy," she repeated; making sure I knew.

"I know honey. Let it happen. Cum on Daddy's cock Baby Girl," I encouraged her, as she ground herself back at me; forcing my cock head against the spongy bump of her cervix until it must have surely hurt her. But Carly didn't complain; just groaned deeper in her chest, until with a final hard push back at me, her little stuffed body shuddered delightfully as she orgasmed; her back dipping and her mouth opening in a silent scream of pleasure.

The sudden tightening of her narrow passage around my cock was the last thing needed to start my own mind-numbing cum; and holding her hips tightly against me, I felt the first powerful jet of spunk erupt inside her; my cock-head pressed hard against the entrance to my daughter's womb. Her little blonde head snapped back as I spurted inside her.

"I can feel it Daddy. I can feel your stuff squirting inside me," she squealed; pressing back still harder into my lap.

I must have been emptying my balls directly into her cervix I surmised; excited by the thought of depositing my seed that far up inside my little girl's body. After several more strong outpourings into my daughter, I finally held myself inside her as the last thick *spurt* of cum spat wetly into my little girl's uterus, and I could almost feel the tiny opening to her womb nursing on the head of my prick for each precious drop of cum; her tiny abused little cunt by now awash with her own daddy's wriggling little tadpoles. "Thank God she's too young to have kids," I thought, "or she'd be knocked up for sure, with the amount she's had inside her tonight."

Wrapping my arms around my daughter again, I pulled her limp body against me and sat down again; my little girl's body sitting on my lap with my penis still buried inside her.

Carly lay her head back against my shoulder and relaxed; just as I was resting my head against the back of the sofa and recovering from two powerful orgasms in the space of a couple of hours.

And that's where we were several hours later, when we woke up.

I hadn't realized that we had both fallen asleep; but as I opened my eyes and tried to focus them, the first thing I saw was the top of my wife's head as she peered between our daughter's thighs.

She was shaking her head and muttering to herself, "I knew it . . . it's my own fault. I should have warned him."

"Wh - What's????" I just didn't know what to say . . . well what DO you say when your wife comes home and finds you sitting on the sofa, with your eight-year-old daughter sitting on your lap, naked from the waist down, with her father's cock still wedged deep inside her body, and rivulets of sperm running down between the cheeks of the child's bum, and making a puddle on your balls?

Looking up, Paula realized I had woken, and signaled for me to remain quiet; then untucking our daughter's skirt, dropped it down over her naked, sticky charms. Reaching forward, my wife gently shook Carly's shoulder until she too woke up.

"Time for bed, Sweetheart," Paula said softly. "It's very late, and you've got dance lessons in the morning."

"Uh . . . OK, Mummy," Carly muttered sleepily and slid to the floor and headed for the stairs; walking a little wide-legged as a trail of my sperm slid slowly down the inside of her leg to her knee. The catching sensation of her little slit pulling off my prick was exquisite, but I was too worried to appreciate it.

"I'M DEAD," I thought to myself; imagining the blue flashing light (probably from the ambulance rather than from the police). I quickly ran through all the excuses I could think of; (which didn't take long; as there weren't any) then just slumped back in the couch and waited for the explosion.

"I need to talk to you; and put that away," was all Paula said, before calling up the stairs to our Daughter, "Get undressed and go in the bathroom Carly!"

Paula dropped her bag on the chair and shucked off her coat; then headed up the stairs after our little girl. It was the longest fifteen minutes of my life sitting there waiting to be killed, then resurrected and killed again only slower the second time.

When she returned downstairs, Paula had a concerned look on her face . . . which worried me more than if she had been steaming at the ears, and with sparks leaping from her eyes.

"I . . . I can . . . can explain," I stuttered; knowing that I couldn't.

"No," Paula said firmly, "it's my fault really, I should have realized it would probably happen. I just didn't expect it to be YOU that's all. I thought it would be some older kid or at the very worst, one of her teachers. I should have explained it to you; but I didn't think it would happen this early."

"What the HELL are you talking about?" I eventually interrupted her. "What do you mean it's YOUR fault . . . you come home, find me with my bare prick buried to the hilt in our 8-year-old daughter's cunt; sperm leaking all over the place; knowing I've not only just fucked our little girl by sliding my thick prick all the way up in her tummy, but I didn't even pull out when I came; ejaculating my sperm in the child's womb and filling our daughter's body with incestuous seed almost as if I

was trying to get the little girl pregnant by her own father; and then you say it's YOUR fault?!" (If it sounds like I was trying to shock Paula, I was. I couldn't figure out why she wasn't mad at me; and I felt so guilty I actually WANTED her to punish me.)

"Well yeah. Like I said, I should have warned you it might happen," she groaned; sinking into the sofa beside me. "It explained it all in that book we got . . . remember the one the Doctor recommended when we noticed what Carly was doing? The one I read and you didn't," she said; giving me a pointed look. "It said that if the touching and playing continued into later life, like six or seven, it could be a sign of what's called promiscuous puberty."

I looked at her with a blank expression on my face. "So what's that then?"

"Well, what it means is: That unlike most girls and boys of course, some kids mature far earlier than others. The fact that Carly has always been interested in what could be described as 'sexual pleasures' could have caused it. And when I say 'mature earlier' I mean it. They most often fixate on someone of the opposite sex, and try to interest them sexually. It's happened lots of times before. Don't you remember reading about little girls getting pregnant before they leave primary school?"

"Vaguely," I replied. "But she's only eight," I thought to myself, "surely not."

"Well, that's our Carly . . . an early starter if ever there was one," Paula chuckled. "So don't feel like you abused her. I would rather it was YOU who loved her, if it was going to happen, rather than some uncaring stranger, who'd exploit her."

We chatted about it a while longer; relief that I wasn't going to be castrated with a blunt kitchen knife washing over me. With the trauma over and my heart back to a near normal speed, and the thought of imminent heart attack slowly receding, we went to bed. After we showered, I was lying back thinking about what had occurred that evening, when Paula came into the room and slipped in beside me.

"I'm glad you were so understanding about Carly's needs," my wife whispered in my ear; as she switched off the bedside lamp and snuggled down. "She must have done a REAL good job on you tonight, for you to have squirted that much inside her. Do you realize it had run right down both thighs to her ankles and soaked her socks by the time I got to clean her up?"

Paula chuckled before continuing, "Not many men would do as good a job as that for their daughters, if they knew her condition. It was late, so I just wiped her up and put her to bed. There's probably going to be a wet-spot on the bed, and I'll have to wash sheets in the morning, because your cum was STILL oozing from her when she went to bed." Paula giggled a little before turning over. "No wonder Carly hasn't needed to masturbate, if you've been fucking her two or three times a day."

"Uh . . . ." I started to correct my wife's misconception.

"Just make sure you finish in time for her to get to her dance-lessons, when you fuck her in the morning," continued Paula; not giving me a chance to explain that I hadn't been fucking Carly all that much . . . yet. "While I don't want our daughter going there horny out of her mind; I don't want Carly to miss any lessons either. OK?"

"Uh . . . OK," I replied; almost stonkered by the idea that my wife seemed to almost EXPECT me to fuck our little girl in the morning as well as at night; sending our daughter off to her lessons with her tummy as full of her father's potent sperm as it was right now. I grinned to myself in the darkness; as I thought about my sexy daughter lying in bed with my thick white sperm still oozing from her cute little cunny.

"Seeing how much you came in her tonight" giggled Paula, expanding the image, "I'll have probably have to use a tampon to keep your sperm bottled up inside her in the morning; so Carly won't be dribbling cum down her legs, in front of her dance-teacher. We don't want to shock the poor man. Some people have qualms about full-grown men fucking 8-year-old little girls, you know."

Thus my wife let me know that while she wasn't mad at me, she still wasn't completely pleased by the idea of her husband fucking her pre-teen daughter and filling the child's womb with her own father's incestuous seed. (Pre-teen? My God; Carly is only 8 years old!)

On the other hand, Paula seemed to actually EXPECT me to continue fucking Carly, now that I had started (as if I would either be cheating the little girl, or neglecting her, if I didn't). And to top everything off, my wife not only didn't seem terribly annoyed by the idea of me having full unprotected vaginal intercourse with our daughter, she almost seemed to expect me to continue ejaculating my sperm in the little 8-year-old's body; almost as if I was trying to get our little girl pregnant.

Well, if that was what Carly and Paula wanted, I didn't see why I couldn't do my best to see that our daughter's vagina was kept filled with incestuous cum until she got old enough that we had to start taking precautions. With any luck, it would be at LEAST three or four years (and maybe even longer than that) before we had to worry about one of my sperm combining with our little girl's eggs, and giving her a big belly. In the meantime, since Paula didn't seem to mind, (Mind? Heck, my oversexed wife almost seemed to WANT me to fuck Carly.) I figured I would "do my duty" to Carly by sending our daughter off to class each morning with my thick white sperm trapped in her cute little cunny by a fabric plug.

Thinking of which, I couldn't help but grin at the image of our little girl going off to dance with a tampon holding my sperm bottled up in her cute little tummy. Then I wondered, "Tampon?" curious as to where my wife would get some during the night. Paula hasn't used tampons for YEARS. The grin was wiped from my face a moment later when she replied; just before turning over and going to sleep.

"Yes, tampon," assured Paula. "I got some for Carly a week or so ago. I DID tell you that Carly had her first period a couple of weeks ago, didn't I?"

Now you know why I'm laying here awake relating my story to you . . . If you were in my place, would YOU be able to sleep???????

The End