Well, this assignment was a bit different. Rally driving. Not something I'd covered before --- stock-car meets was my bread and butter, and rallying isn't that big in the US --- but I'd picked up a magazine commission to go shoot the British stage of the World Rally Championships. Wales, wherever in England that was. Rates were good, no huge rush (so no redeye!) and hey, I might even bump into Sammy on the flight again! Yeah, well, OK, that was unlikely in the extreme, but it might be possible to hook up with Dave instead.

"You're kidding, man!" was his response. "For sure?"

Turns out he lives slap-dab on the route of the final stage, near Cardiff.

"No, it's in *Wales*, you dumb Yank!" he'd said when I asked what part of England. "The lumpy bit on the side of Britain. Sheesh, you Americans." Yeah, whatever, I'd replied; so you know where South Dakota is then, huh? Actually, he did. Bloody cocky Brit. Anyway, after our usual good-natured slagging over IM we'd agreed that I'd go stay with him, save a bit on the hotel bills. "Come for the weekend before," he'd said. "Wife and kids are away. We can hit the town, catch the clubs. Totty in Cardiff, man... Good stuff!"

Sounded like a blast. Dave and I share... the same interests, shall we say. It'd be a hoot to shoot the breeze with him for a few days. So we figured it out; damn me if this Cardiff place didn't even have an airport with connections from London! Dave offered to pick me up but I needed a car and it was easier just to hire one at the airport and drive to his place. Only got lost once, which wasn't bad, and I got the feel of why they like to drive saloon cars real fast through this countryside. Stock-car racing it ain't, but it's a damn sight more interesting than that F1 shit.

So, it was near five when I finally pulled up to his place, a big old stone-built pile in some little commuter town near Cardiff, a sort of classic British Empire we-rule-the-world kind of house of 150 years ago. The front door was standing expectantly open. I lugged out my case, spotted Dave standing at the window, phone glued to his ear. He waved, mugging that I should just come in. Nice stained glass in the inner vestibule door.

I dumped my bag and Dave came out from the living room with a big grin, a handclasp and a "Hey, man!", followed by a "Look, Denise, it's fine, don't worry. Yeah, he's staying a few nights, but it's fine, really. Yeah, a few minutes, OK? Cool."

He hung up. "Hey, sorry 'bout that, dude! Welcome to the place!"

Only ever having met remotely before, we considered each other for a moment or two. It was a little odd; I couldn't figure out if he was like I'd been expecting or not. He spoke the same way he wrote, a kind of pseudo-American 1970's patois, and yeah, I reckoned after a little, he was pretty much as I might have imagined him.

I grinned, slapped him on the shoulder. "Good to meet you, Brit!"

He laughed. "Damn, man, you look like nothing I expected! Hey, 'cept your eyes --- they are just like you said. Ladykillers, man!" He laughed again, and winked. "Girly killers!"

That was my turn to laugh. One thing we did know about each other was... well, I guess we'll get to that in time.

"Come in, man, make yourself at home. Me casa es tu casa. Grab a beer --- kitchen's through the back there, fridge round to your left."

"A cold one would hit the spot for sure. You got problems?" I nodded at the cellphone still in his hand. He looked momentarily blank, then a little sheepish.

"Nah, it's fine, man. Well..."

He followed me to the kitchen, all explanation. "Look, man, I need to help a friend out tonight, maybe tomorrow too. Real sorry, it's kind of a last-minute emergency. Denise is kinda stuck. It means we'll probably have to stick here tonight, miss out on the clubbing in town. Sorry... We'll get a takeaway; show you some proper Indian food."

He sounded kinda down, so I told him to get his thumb out his ass and stop worrying. It was cool; given that I wasn't quite sure what timezone I was in I was probably better off skipping the local talent for tonight at least. OK, I was actually a little disappointed. Dave had mailed me a website link where Cardiff youngsters posted their club pics, and for sure it seemed that the local nightlife was (a) hot and (b) younger than a typical club from back home. A night chatting up young Welsh teens certainly had its attractions, but, well, it looked like Dave was fucked by his own good nature. Still, I had a few new things on my laptop I reckoned he'd enjoy...

He was still apologising as he left the house. "'Bout ten minutes, man, OK?"

I slumped in one of the big sofas in his living room --- fancy plasterwork on the ceiling, real period Victorian stuff --- sipped beer (something Belgian, good stuff) and let my mind drift. Dave and I had met online through our shared interest in girls. Young girls, the kind of girl society says are too young to play with grown men like us. Dave and I both agree that we disagree with society's view. Young girls are beautiful --- creatures to be cherished, loved and played with in all the ways we can invent. They deserve to enjoy the pleasures of the body as much as anyone. That's our view anyway. Not, perhaps, a view to share with the boys at the poker game...

Dave's living room was kinda relaxing, in a sort of beige kind of a way. That sounds ugly, but it was actually quite tasteful. I suspected his wife chose the decor. Most wives do; saves a heap of pain... Evidence of his two kids was to be spotted in the odd corner, under the coffee table: brightly colored plastic bits, 3 XBox games, that sort of stuff. Dave had two boys. "Completely safe from me," he'd told me once. "Boys are not girls, and if any fuckin' pedo so much as looks sideways at 'em I'll tear his fuckin' eyes out." I'd asked him where would he have been if he'd had a daughter. "I dunno, man, I really dunno."

Anyway, I was through in the kitchen looking for another beer when I heard Dave return. "Hey, man! Back again!" he called; in a quieter voice he said something about leaving it there. Huh? I wandered through to the hall, can in hand. I nearly dropped it.

"Hey, man," said Dave, his eyes glittering with amusement, "let me introduce Alexandra; Alexandra, meet Jimmy."

Alexandra.

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

Alexandra.

Alexandra? you ask.

Alexandra! I reply. Sweet-as-honey-mouthed Alexandra.

Now Alexandra was a girl I knew Dave knew. He'd sent me snapshots of her; nothing untoward, swimsuit stuff, and ka-boom! First time I saw her I'd fallen in love. Seven. Blonde. Cute as... just the cutest thing you've ever seen. A shape to her little mouth that sent shivers down my spine, and blood rushing to my loins. A sparkle in her eyes that came across even on digital snaps. The last pics Dave had sent she'd been wearing pink jeans, and he'd caught her butt just so. Those pics had given me sleepless nights; something about the shape of her little ass in those pink jeans had taken me be the throat and wouldn't let go.

She was wearing them now.

Now, there, standing in Dave's hallway, looking a little shy, but oh so incredibly lovely. Alexandra. Blonde, seven, and wearing those pink jeans.

I didn't drop the can, but I slopped beer all over my hand like a klutzy ninth-grader meeting his first real girl. I saw Dave grin. Damn! Focus, man!

"Hi Alexandra!" Remarkably my voice was neither hoarse nor unsteady; I hoped I didn't sound like a desperate pedophile, despite the feelings churning away inside me. I hoped to God, too, that my penis would behave itself; and thinking *that*, of course, set my mind running to late-night dreams and wicked fantasies of Alexandra which was no help at all... My penis stirred, fortunately constrained behind my no-nonsense denims.

Dave was speaking. I tore my eyes away from Alexandra's shy, sweet gaze and tried to tune in. Something about Alexandra's mom having an emergency; had to go visit *her* mom, or something; family illness. Yeah, whatever. Pink jeans.

Dave was thoroughly enjoying himself; it was all he could do to stop himself bursting out laughing at my evident confusion. Alexandra, I think, was largely oblivious. She gave me another shy smile and went through into the living room. Dave waved me after her.

"So Alexandra is here to stay the night, aren't you honey?" he concluded. "Uh-huh," she replied. "Can we play that game with the marble run?"

Dave winked at me. "Sure honey. Jimmy will get it for you. In the cupboard in the corner, man," he said, passing me on his way out the room. "Mind the Lego boxes."

Pink jeans, pink Dora-the-Explorer top. Blonde hair drifting across her face. Here. In front of me. Live. Alexandra.

I looked down. She was looking up. "It says Marble Run on the box," she explained. Her eyes were beautiful. So damn beautiful...

"Marble Run, huh? OK, let's see." With an effort of will I steadied my breathing, forced myself into motion, my brain whirling with thoughts, ideas --- possibilities I dare not even begin to form lest they leak out of my forehead screaming "this man wants to fuck you!" Oh my Lord, Alexandra in pink jeans.

She giggled. "You speak funny," she said. "Are you American?"

"Good spot, honey," I replied, "all the way from the US of A." Ouch, that sounded so fuckin' lame, but she didn't seem to notice, the little sweetheart.

"Are you a friend of Uncle Dave's?" she asked. The 'Uncle' threw me for a second, but then: "Yes, Alexandra, I am. Is this the game you want?"

She sighed, that beautiful, over-theatrical way little girls can sigh when an adult is being silly or obtuse. "No, that's Mousetrap. The *marble run*. It says *Marble Run* on the side." She stood and came over to the big walk-in cupboard crammed full of Dave's kids' stuff. I was hovering on the threshold --- it looked dangerous in there ---and Alexandra had to press up against me to peer up at the shelves. The Mousetrap box wavered as I fought the impulse to stroke her hair, touch her beautiful neck. My hand twitched and jerked. Deep within the confines of my jeans, so did my penis.

"There, see!" She pointed up with one delicate, triumphant finger. Mentally slapping myself upside the head I swapped the boxes and retrieved the Marble Run. Carrying the box carefully to the middle of the room I succeeded in putting it down without scattering its brightly-colored contents across the floor. Doesn't seem to take long for kids' games boxes to become dangerously unstable...

Anyway. With some degree of composure restored and an erection I could now safely conceal, I spent half an hour lying on the carpet next to Alexandra, setting up wobbly marble run towers and breathing the soft scents of her hair, drinking in her delicate beauty, surreptitiously admiring her achingly cute butt in its sheath of pink denim. We laughed, giggled as the marbles dropped or the towers fell. She commented on my eyes --- she liked the white ring around my irises --- and I gazed into hers with what must have been undisguised, undisguisable desire. Lord above, it's difficult to describe how adorable I found her, find her.

Where Dave had been all this time I wasn't sure --- giving me some space, I guess --- but as the towers came crashing down again to glorious giggles from Alexandra he stuck his head around the door.

"Dinner, ladies?" he asked. "How about Indian? Alexandra, honey, you want the same you had last time? You liked that, yeah?"

Alexandra gave a serious frown. "Jimmy's not a lady. Neither am I. I'm a girl, silly." Then she smiled. "Mmm, yes, that was yummy. Can we have those big crispy things too?"

"You bet, honey. Jimmy, I'll just get us a bunch of stuff and you can try some proper Indian." He winked, and disappeared again. A short while later the front door slammed.

Whoa.

I was alone in the house with Alexandra.

I scooped her up and kissed her, brushing her hair away and licking her pretty little lips until she opened her mouth under mine. I sat her on my lap and pulled off her Dora top, then circled my tongue around each of her little nipples in turn, making her squirm and giggle. I tugged down her pink jeans, stroking her gorgeous little butt through her pink cotton panties as I did so. I kissed her again, then pulled her panties to the floor. I lay her back on the big sofa, her panties still dangling from one little foot, and went down on her, licking her gorgeous little pussy, eating her out, eating her up...

Well, in my head...

In reality, of course, I packed away the Marble Run while she dug in her little rucksack and pulled out a deck of battered, highly colored trading cards and proceeded to tell me all about them. I couldn't follow at all, but what the heck --- I was kneeling next to her, my nose in her hair, my fingers resting lightly on her little shoulder, my senses dizzy with her. She chattered away, I "yeah?"-ed and "wow"-ed and loved every second of it.

We were still there when Dave returned, bringing mouth-watering scents of spice and fragrant oils with him. Dinner was delicious, nothing too spicy, and wonderful fun. We spread out on the dining room table and Alexandra sat between us, nibbling on this and that, delighting in the poppadums, smiling, chatting, lighting up the whole damn room, chasing any thoughts of jetlag far from my mind. I watched her, of course, watched the way she talked to Dave, the way she occasionally looked at me, then at him with a little smile. An affectionate smile. Something seemed to pass between them --- unless I was just reading between lines that only existed in my head... Uncle Dave: babysitter? Friend? Hmmm.

Anyway, we finished dinner and Dave sat back, his ever-present smile twinkling. "You enjoy that, honey?" he asked. Alexandra nodded, smiling back. "Cool! You wanna play a game for a little while? Jimmy'll help you set it up. I'll make some coffee."

Alexandra settled on pairs, and I helped her find the cards and spread them across the living room carpet. The three of us played happily for a good while, the two of us deliberately playing dumb by mutual, silent consent, so that Alexandra kept winning. I watched the way she flicked her hair back, the way she sprawled for the cards, the way she sat, legs akimbo, with no sense of impropriety, the shameless innocence of the young. Lord her jeans stretched tight across her crotch when she did that...

As our gorgeous little playmate won for the fourth time, Dave threw up his hands. "Enough! I'm beat! You're too good! Little Miss Memory, that's you. Or Little Miss Dead Lucky." He winked, she stuck out her tongue, I gave a little shiver. "OK, honey. It's time for your bath."

Alexandra looked a little shy, looked over at me. I was still processing Dave's words and beginning to sweat a little. Dave smiled. "It's OK, hon. Jimmy won't mind. Hey," he continued more softly, leaning toward her conspiratorially, "how about we play our special bathtime games?"

She started, shocked, and glanced at me with alarm in her eyes. Dave leaned closer, ran a finger gently down her arm from her shoulder to her delicate little wrist.

"It's OK, sweetie. Uncle Jimmy knows all about special games. Ain't that right, Jimmy?" I caught his tone, his eye. His gaze was intense, excited, adrenaline-high. I nodded, my mouth dry, my hands shaking, my erection disturbingly hard. I tried to look kind and reassuring, swallowed carefully before answering. "Sure, I know about special games."

"Wouldn't it be fun to play with both of us?" asked Dave, brushing her hair behind her little ear. She looked at him carefully, then across at me, a little less uncertainly than before. I went for my winning smile. "Alexandra, I would be honoured to play a special game with you." That made her giggle. Nervously, perhaps, but giggle nonetheless.

"OK, good," said Dave. "Honey, I'll go and run your bath. Can you help Jimmy tidy up the plates?" He excused himself and disappeared upstairs. We sat for a while in silence, a silence tinged with all sorts of hints and frissons. Alexandra glanced at me, glanced away several times. I kept my gaze steadily on her, smiled whenever she looked my way. She was shy, sure, but she was something else too. Excited, I think. Eventually I stood, reached out a hand toward her. She looked askance at me, head bowed, eyes peeping through her falling hair, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth in the most glorious way. She raised her hand slowly. I bent, kissed her fingers. She giggled, flashed me a glance that set my heart hammering even harder. I winked.

"OK, honey, show me where the dishwasher is."

We tidied away, stacked the dishwasher. The sound of running water upstairs stopped; faint scents of bubble bath drifted down.

"Bath's ready!" called Dave. I cocked my head at Alexandra, held my arms open. Her hesitation was barely measurable. I scooped her up, her legs around my waist, one arm draped over my shoulder. Our eyes met. I kissed the tip of her outrageously cute nose. She giggled again, her tongue-tip between her teeth. If she'd felt the press of my erection as she climbed up, she didn't mention it. How she could've missed it I don't know...

I carried her upstairs to the first landing where the bathroom was. It was large by modern standards, with a big, old-fashioned roll-top bath on the left, fairly frothing with pine-scented bubbles. I let Alexandra down and retired a little way. This seemed to be Dave's moment --- and clearly not the first time he'd helped her undress. He slipped her Dora top over her head for her. She was naked underneath, her pale skin glowing. The sight of her small, perfect little nipples sent all sorts of desire coursing through me. I gripped the towel rail tightly.

She looked across at me only once, only slightly self-consciously, as Dave helped her take off her jeans. I caught her eye. Oh God... Her panties were pink too, hugging her little butt in the most fabulous way. She took them off herself, her back to me. I gazed at her naked butt, mesmerised; the most perfect little peach I had ever seen...

Dave lifted her into the bath, knelt, and began washing her hair gently with the bubbly water. He behaved perfectly properly, like, indeed, a doting uncle --- except for the glance he gave me as he rinsed her hair. That glance said: isn't she a fuckin' doll? Isn't she just fuckin' gorgeous? You bet, mine replied. You fuckin' bet, dude.

"Do you want Jimmy to get in with you instead of me, honey? For a change?"

Dave's question was so unexpected I didn't quite grasp its significance until Alexandra looked over at me and nodded. "Uh huh," she said quietly.

"OK, hon. That OK, Jim?" Dave's manner was entirely controlled, utterly nonchalant, like asking a little girl if she wanted a veritable stranger to get in the bath with her was the most normal thing in the world. The spirit of insouciance --- except for the glitter in his eyes as he rose from the bathmat. "I'll take your clothes to your room, hon, and Uncle Jimmy'll help you wash. No splashing now, you two, or you'll be mopping the floor, man!" He moved past me, a bundle of pink clothing in his hands. He winked; "have fun, be sweet" he mouthed as he left.

Oh. My. God. This is not a recording. This is live. This is real.

I took a deep breath. It shuddered only a little. OK, that's a lie. It shuddered a fuckin' huge amount, but I covered it by peeling off my t-shirt. I knelt, untying my shoes, slipping off my socks as I tried to regain some vestige of composure. Strangely, *I* now felt self-conscious as I stood again, unbuckling my belt, popping the stud of my jeans and running down the zipper. There was going to be no hiding the state of my penis, the depth of my desire for the little girl over there in the bubbles. She was watching me over the rim of the bath, watching me with an expression I couldn't read. Jeez, I felt like a stone-cold sober teenager dropping his pants on a first date.

Another deep breath, this one steadier. Down came my jeans, and my boxers with them. Out sprang my penis, hard and straight. I paused, letting Alexandra see me, watching her eyes as they looked at my penis. Well, it didn't scare her. That was good. She looked up at me as I approached the bath, and smiled.

"Do you like me?" she asked as I climbed in.

Yes, honey, I like you a lot. So much that I want to *fuck* your little *cunt* until I *cum* all the way up inside your gorgeous little body!

"Yes, honey," I replied. "I think you're beautiful, really lovely. Does my --- what do you call it? --- does my thing give it away?"

"Uncle Dave calls his his cock," she replied matter-of-factly, playing with a handful of bubbles. Well, OK then.

"So do I, honey. I guess my cock gives away how much I like you, yes? When a man likes a girl a lot, his cock grows like that. But you know that, don't you? You're clever as well as gorgeous."

She giggled, utterly charming, utterly fabulous. I watched bubbles slide across her chest for a moment or two, watched the beautiful pink rings of her little-girl nipples.

"Uncle Dave lets me wash his cock," she said, with a glance that can only be described as coquettish. "Can I wash yours?" Truly, that's what she asked. I mean, what's a guy to say?

I cleared my throat. "Sure, honey. That would be lovely." My head swimming a little, I knelt, raising my penis above the bubbles. Alexandra put her head on one side, regarding it thoughtfully.

"Yours looks different to Uncle Dave's," she commented. "You don't have the hoodie bit."

I grinned. I was, indeed, circumcised. Dave, most probably, being a Brit, was not.

She reached out her bubbly little hands and began to wash me.

Oh, God! It's such an enormously good feeling, a little girl's fingers playing with your penis. Enormously good. Fucking enormously hugely good. With serious concentration on her face, Alexandra rubbed her hands carefully up and down, one either side, tip to base, massaged my aching erection with her thumbs running firmly along the taut lane of my urethra and her fingers applying perfect pressure all around. Oh, it was marvelous. I grasped the sides of the bath as she masturbated me --- no other word for it, this gorgeous little seven-year-old jerking me slowly and carefully, pausing occasionally to rub soap bubbles all over my swollen penis-head. My penis strained, my balls tightened. Mmm, baby girl...

"Need to make sure you're clean under here." Her tongue poked between her teeth as she lifted my penis and delved under the bubbles to wash me around my balls, cupping and holding them in her delicate little hands. Her left hand kept up a stroking rhythm on my penis as her right squeezed, fondled my balls, rubbed my perineum. She reached further, her fingers unselfconsciously rubbing my anus, washing my asshole carefully, tickling it, fingering it, the way she'd been taught. I pushed my hips forward, spread my knees as wide as I could in the bath to give her all the access she needed, as much space as possible to stroke my penis, fondle my balls and finger my asshole. Oh, yes, little girl...

A minute or two of her careful ministrations and my knuckles were white on the bath sides. Very much more and I was gonna make a heck of a mess, but: "There," she said, letting go and sitting back in the bubbles. "You're all clean now."

I subsided with a little groan. The warm water rushing back around my penis nearly, nearly tipped me over the edge. "Oh, honey, yes, I think I am. Whoa, Alexandra..." She grinned at me, pleased, and with clear understanding in her eyes. She knew damn well what she'd been doing to me. What a gorgeous little vixen...

"OK, hon. This was meant to be your bath, though, yes? Time you had a wash. OK, I want you to stand up for this, 'cos I need to see what I'm doing."

She stood obediently. I watched the bubbles slither down her belly, hiding the beautiful shapes and lines between her thighs, then gently I turned her around. "Bend over, hon," I murmured, and she leaned forward, grasping the end of the bath, her pink and perfect butt raised and ready. Gently I began to rub soapy bubbles across her buttocks, massaging gently, my fingers revelling in her smooth taut skin, her little-girl softness. Gently I pulled her butt cheeks apart and, resisting the urge to lick her, rubbed her up and down the length of her butt-crack. I wiggled my finger around the entrance to her delicate pink-brown asshole, playing, teasing her with a fingertip. She murmured softly.

I nudged her legs apart. Her thighs were as gorgeously smooth as you would expect, smooth and soft and warm... I ran the fingers of my right hand in between them, and gently, gently, sweetly rubbed them across her glorious little pussy lips.

"Need to make sure your pussy's clean, hon," I breathed.

"Uh huh." Her reply was soft, almost husky.

I rubbed the back of my finger between her delicate lips, feeling her heat. I rubbed two fingers either side, from the top of her mound to the base. Soft, glorious. I reached under to massage her little button, my other hand playing at her cleft. Her pussy was fabulous, soft and sweet and smooth and oh... so... desirable...

I felt her thighs trembling as I rubbed her little clitty, heard the little sounds she made. I couldn't resist. Abandoning any pretence at washing her I teased the tip of my left index finger into the entrance to her cunt while I rubbed her undeveloped clit with my right, firm and fast. Cum for me, you little darling girl, cum for me! I kissed her buttock. Her trembling increased. She ducked her head, making little plosive sounds. Her back arched, her butt trembled in front of me and... "Oh... Oh, oo, ooo!" Her knees sagged. I caught her, helped her sit back down. She was panting slightly, her face flushed, a spark deep in her eyes as she gazed at me. Oh, yes, baby girl!

She moved forward through the bubbles. I felt her hand, underwater, reaching for me, finding, encircling, squeezing. Oh, Lord. With a perfect rhythm she began working my penis, back and forth under the surface. She leaned up; I leaned down. We kissed, a sweet, sweet, gentle kiss. And again. And again. Her lips were soft as down, warm as sun-ripened peaches, sweet as bubblegum. I couldn't hold it.

"Ohhhhh!" I exhaled, shuddering, as my penis jerked and spasmed beneath the bubbles. I sensed thick ropes of semen pulsing out into the bathwater as Alexandra took me gloriously, completely, over the edge. Cumming under water is strangely different somehow. Cumming underwater because a gorgeous little seven-year-old is jerking you off is something else again...

I sat, recovering, for several moments, just looking at her sweet face. She looked pleased, but perhaps a little unsure, perhaps needing approval. I smiled, leaned down and kissed her damp cheek. "You are so lovely, sweetie," I murmured.

I climbed out, helped her out. I wrapped her in the biggest, softest towel I could find and lifted her into my arms. Naked and dripping a trail of soap bubbles I carried her snuggling form down the three steps to the landing and up the next flight to the first floor. I saw Dave, waiting in the front bedroom, dressed only in boxers, smiling at Alexandra. I entered with my charge; the bed was laid with towels, the lamps lit. I placed my gorgeous little bundle in the middle of the bed and lay down next to her. Dave lay down on her other side and gently unwrapped her from the towel. He kissed her lips softly, his fingers resting lightly on her thigh. I stoked her belly, her other thigh, admired her beautiful little pussy.

Our rapport was perfect. We became fluid, a harmony of male and female flesh, men and girl touching, kissing, understanding, giving. We kissed her in turn, she kissing back, her small mouth sweet and avid. Her skin was smooth, warm, soft, delicious; the touch of her hand was electric.

The evening became a long, glorious sequence of memories, vignettes.

At one point I was kissing her, looking deep into her eyes. Her lips trembled as I caressed them with mine, licking them, kissing the tip of her tongue. Her fingers toyed with the end of my penis, teasing my urethral opening, smearing my precum juices all over the head as I stroked her from nipple to thigh. Her legs were spread, wantonly. Dave lay between them, his mouth on her soft-sweet pussy. She whimpered beautifully into my mouth as he licked her, outside, inside. Her orgasms came regularly, delightful little shivers running all the way through her.

Then she was spread before me like a banquet. She tasted divine, like spring rain on flower buds. I licked her delicious little pussy, lapping slowly at her soft, soft lips, delving as deeply as I could into the musky pink-darkness of her cunt. I flicked her tiny little clit, feeling her thighs tremble next to my cheek. She moaned, a beautiful little sound muffled by Dave's penis as she sucked him like an ice lolly. I drank her delicate juices, each lick of my tongue sending a spasm through my aching penis.

She was kneeling on all fours. Dave's mouth was busy behind her. She gazed up at me, imploring me. I pushed my penis toward her mouth; the sight of her lips closing around the head is burned into my brain. She sucked my penis slowly, ever so carefully, sucking deeply as if it were a straw in a thick, thick milkshake. At one point I held myself up as she licked my balls. I guided her. She took one into her mouth, sucked it gently, looking up at me all the while. My face must have betrayed everything, for she sucked harder, taking half my scrotum into her mouth. I nearly came again.

She held us both. We were kneeling side by side, she sitting cross-legged in front of us. She held our penises close together, licked each in turn, concentration on her beautiful little face.

"You taste different," she decided, looking up. Pleasure glowed in her face, pleasure in giving pleasure. Her eyes shone, her tongue-tip peeked between her teeth.

"Oh, honey," I murmured as she sucked me. "Mm, Alexandra, you little doll." Dave stroked hair from her face, hooked it around her little ear. "You are so special, sweetheart," he whispered softly.

She was lying on top of me, spreadeagled, face down. My lips were on her pussy, my penis in her mouth. I held her down, pressing her to me, belly to belly. I stroked her beautiful little butt, licked her sweet pussy as she sucked me. Reaching up I could lick her asshole; pushing my tongue into it made her whimper in *the* most lovely fashion...

It was Dave, of course, introduced the baby oil.

Alexandra took great delight in oiling up our penises, slipping and sliding her hands up and down and all around us. Then she knelt in the centre of the bed, arms high in the air like a divine princess demanding supplication, with one man in front and one behind. I rubbed oil over her pussy and thighs, kissing her occasionally, while Dave oiled up her lovely little butt.

We fucked her. We fucked her thighs, her butt-crack, her armpits, her pussy lips, her fists, her fabulous little feet, everywhere we could without penetration. That was the unwritten rule; not today, not now. But everywhere else, our penises slipping and sliding across her silk-smooth skin, tight between her thighs, rocking up and down between her buttocks, buried in her beautiful little armpit. We showed her how to hold her hands just so, so we could kneel before her and fuck them, our penises slipping through to kiss her nipples at each stroke. We took turns to rub her pussy, play-fucking her for real, ensuring each time her clitty received due care and attention. She shivered with orgasm, flushed and lovely, glistening in the soft lamplight as we two men had sex with her every way we could...

My earlier orgasm helped me maintain my composure; how Dave managed not to succumb I don't know, but I sensed we both controlled ourselves, concentrated on her, out of a mutual respect for this fabulous little girl who had offered up her body to us. We worshiped at that temple for a long, long time...

We had little to say to each other; touch, taste, sight dominated out discourse. Lying side by side with Dave, Alexandra straddling our two legs and stroking our penises, I exchanged some of the few words I'd spoken all evening. "Man..." I murmured. "You bet..." he replied. The little girl above us was golden, her hair drifting around her rosy-pink face, her tongue between her lips, hands jerking us steadily. What a sight. What a memory.

Finally, she lay beneath us, our little princess stretched out on the bed. We knelt, each straddling a leg, leaning over, bending low, our penises poised above her belly. The three of us exchanged glances, smiles. She was looking tired; it was past her bed time. Dave and I masturbated slowly. Our penises were solid, red shafts, stimulated beyond anything before. We gauged each other; we knew. We looked down at her. Dave asked.

"What should we done, honey?"

"Cum on me, Uncle Dave, Uncle Jimmy. Cum on me."

It might've been rehearsed; it wasn't.

I came a fraction ahead of Dave, waves of semen splattering across the gentle curves of her belly from two directions, a tide lapping across her nipples, filling her belly button, running down across the wet pink petals of her utterly gorgeous little pussy. For me, it was the single most intense orgasm I'd ever had, six, seven, more great splashes covering my darling little Alexandra. Our cum mingled on her body; our fingers combined either side of her clitty to bring her off one final time, one final, delightful little shiver sending rivers of semen trickling off her chest and belly onto the waiting towels.

Bedtime.

We cleaned her gently with the towels. Dave fetched her pyjamas from the room he'd made up for her --- pink Dora-the-Explorer, of course. I carried her, nodding and sleepy, to the bathroom, helped her brush her teeth. I think she fell asleep in my arms as I carried her back to her room.

We tucked her in, kissed her goodnight. She stirred, raised a hand to her mouth. Her beautiful lips closed around her first two fingers. God she was lovely.

Out on the landing Dave nodded down at my state of undress. "You wanna get some clothes on, grab a beer? Sorry we're stuck in for the night but, well, hope it's not too much of a drag for you."

It took me a long, long time to stop laughing.