Am I a bad man?

I worry about this. I'm certain that if "they" - the "world", "society" - knew the ins and outs of what I'm about to tell you then, yes, I would be branded a bad man and sent to jail, there to be persecuted by murderers and armed robbers and other assorted scum, any chance of a normal life forever lost to me. And having robbed me of any chance of a normal life in this way, having taken away, with their righteous vengeance and furious anger, any other option I might have had, the "humane" society in which I find myself would, inevitably, turn me into the thing they think I am, the very thing I am not. By breaking me they would remake me, as an evil, predatory paedophile with nothing else to live for. They would make me into the bad man they say I am.

But I don't think I am that man. And nor does Rosie. And she is the only one fit to judge.

For a start I like to think I'm a pretty straight-up kind of bloke. I'm ex-Forces, Sergeant, Red Caps, so I'm no shrinking violet, and I've seen a lot of things - and done some - that would scare the shit out of your average civvie. But there's one thing about being in the Army - and the British Army, mind that - and that's that you learn respect for what's right and wrong, what's good and bad, who your mates are and who're your enemies. I think that sense of right and wrong might've been what attracted me into the MPs - with squaddies you get the wrong 'uns just like everywhere else, and the Army's not a good place to have bad apples. So, twenty-five years, twenty with a red cap on, and I cashed out only when my Denise got the cancer.

I loved my Denise, loved her to bits. She was lovely, centre of my world. She'd had a bad cancer scare when we were young, had a hysterectomy, but we thought we'd beaten it. We had some good years, she never complained as we trooped round the world, but the cancer hadn't gone. It came back when she turned 40, and it spread like a fucker and it fucking killed her. Fucking cunt. Fucking killed my Denise. I still cry when I say that. Five years on and I still cry for my Denise.

I quit the Army to nurse her in her last year, and I buried her, and then I wondered what the hell I would do next. Top myself, I thought. Sod it. Got an old Makharov and a few rounds from some time in Sarajevo, that'll do it. But I didn't, and something kept me going. My mate Billy was a big part of it. Helped me move on from Denise, got me interested in private security work, and through that I found something that lets me keep my sense of balance, pays the bills: I work as a PI, a private investigator, out of a little office in my spare bedroom. And Rosie lives next door.

Rosie is five. Five-and-a-half, actually, as I'm sure she'd want you to know. She lives in the crappy flat next door to my crappy flat on the eighth floor of this crappy block, in the crap part of town. Rosie's the only beautiful thing here for miles around. And she really is beautiful, a real knock-out. She's blonde, that little-girl red-blonde that will probably become mouse-brown some day but at this age just looks like she has the sun in her hair all the time. Her eyes are mid blue, and big and round, by which I mean they're always alive, always fascinated with the world. Her face is quite round - she's a little chubby all over, just a little, a beautiful little-girl puppy fat - so, so soft and cuddly. Her mouth is wide, her lips quite full for a kid, and her smile... It's a killer already. She was a really cute toddler and now she's just a killer angel.

She lives with her mum, Chardonnay. Yeah, really. No-one's really called that are they? Well, Shar next door is. And she's a waster. Single mum, on benefits, string of really, really crap boyfriends. God knows who Rosie's dad is - don't think I've ever met him. Shar's a waster, stoned half the time, drunk the other. If she's not on smack yet it can only be a matter of time. Oh, she tries to be a mother to Rosie but I just don't think she gets it. Since we've become pally over the years - well, pally when she wants a favour off me anyway - she's always bitching on about how difficult life is with a kid, how she never gets out anymore, how she feels trapped, no point in looking for a job, and yada yada yada. Self-pitying cow she is. How she produced anything as lovely as Rosie is one of God's mysteries.

Anyway, my interaction with them started when Rosie was three. They'd not been long in the flat when the doorbell rang one afternoon and there they were. Shar was dressed like she was off clubbing or sharking or something, already seemed half-cut, and she has Rosie in her push-chair. Really terrible, gotta go out, really stuck, could I mind Rosie for a bit, won't be long really, she'll be no bother, couple of hours at the most, please, sorry, I'm Chardonnay, next door, that OK, Mr...?

"Vine," I said, shaking my head internally. "Tom Vine. How'd you do? Umm, well, yeah, OK, I guess. Is she hungry? What does she eat...?"

But Shar had leaped onto the "yeah OK" and was wrestling the push-chair through my door with gabbled thanks, and wasn't really listening. She knelt to Rosie, who was sitting there, unresponsive, staring blankly, dummy in her mouth, and said "Now you stay with uncle Tom for a bit an' don' you give 'im no 'assle, madam, alright? You be a good girl for mummy or you'll get a bleedin' smack, alright?

"Right, fanks Mr Vine, sorry, fanks, brill'yant, yeah."

And she was gone. It was like she couldn't wait to offload a difficult job so she could go and have fun.

So, there I was, with Rosie. And she was a cutie no doubt, but maybe not quite all there, with her blank look and her dummy filling her mouth. I knelt and said hello, and asked her if she'd like to get up and come and look around, and maybe leave the dummy behind for a bit.

"'Cos I've never had a little girl come to visit before, so you'll need to tell me what to do."

It was when I unstrapped her from the push-chair and helped her up I realised she'd pooed her pants. Poor kid! She was really kind of stinky when she moved, and it looked like it hadn't just happened just then. Bloody Chardonnay. I remember being a bit non-plussed for a few seconds, but then the Army training always takes over - move, go, get it sorted.

I took Rosie through to the bathroom and carefully stripped her down. She had on a little denim skirt with white tights and knickers, with a pink t-shirt and little denim jacket. The poo had gone through to her skirt and I scooped most of it up with her knickers, but she was a right mess, and I thought: easiest thing, get her in the bath. So I ran a quick bath, bubble bath and all, and lifted her in. I chatted to her, just in case she was feeling insecure, but she was remarkably docile, poor kid -stood there in the warm, frothy water, covered in shit, sucking her thumb, and staring at me with big, wide, blue eyes.

And that's where it all started, of course. I had to touch her between the legs to clean her, of course. I had to rub my fingers slowly and carefully up between her legs and around her little pussy, and in between her bum cheeks. I had to wriggle my finger against her cute little anus, all the while chatting with her and smiling to keep her from freaking out. I looked into her face as often as I could, and smiled and joked and fingered the sweet little holes in her beautiful girly body, and got steadily harder and harder.

I couldn't help it. Part of my brain shouted, Leave it out! She's a little kid!, but a far greater part found her soft, smooth little body deeply sensual, found slowly fingering her little pussy such an intensely erotic experience. I spent far longer cleaning her up than she needed - a good ten minutes and more feeling her little pussy and bum, rubbing her gently, smiling at her, making myself dizzy.

When I finally stopped I sat back with an effort and winked at her. "There, all clean?" I asked, and she dropped her thumb from her mouth and smiled shyly and said "Uh-huh." If her soft little body hadn't done it, that smile did. Bang.

I dried her and dressed her in an old t-shirt of mine - it was like a dress on her -while I scrubbed her knickers and tights in the bath. She sat in the corner of the bathroom and we chatted - well, as much as a three-year-old can - and she played with the towel and a couple of plastic tumblers and flashed her pussy and bum at me every now and then and I fell in love. She wasn't blank at all, or dumb - she was bright and chatty and cute and lovely and just born to be loved.

Anyway, Shar picked her up early evening, after I'd fed her some banana sandwiches and dressed her again in her cleanish, dryish clothes. I explained to Shar how Rosie had had a little "accident", and mentioned carefully that I'd had to clean her up a bit, and then wished I hadn't. The miserable cow rounded on her daughter and started giving her a hard time for the state *she'd* left her in. Rosie's thumb disappeared back into her mouth and her shutters came down. I nearly clocked Shar, but forced myself to talk her down - my fault, didn't pick up the signs quickly enough, don't know much about kids, Rosie's been a really good girl. Leave her alone you slapper.

When they'd gone I went back through to the bathroom, looked myself right in the eye in the mirror, and said "So you're a paedophile now, are you?"

I stared right back. "Yeah, I reckon," I replied. And it felt... OK.

Well, whatever her thoughts about her daughter and me, it didn't take Shar long to realise she'd found a babysitter on tap. It was just the next week she asked me to babysit for an evening. Just for a few hours, back about nine, Rosie'll be asleep. I said sure.

Her flat was a tip. Honestly, she's a pig. Dirty clothes everywhere, every room. Dirty dishes lying about in the kitchen and the livingroom. Filled ashtrays everywhere. Litter on the floors - chocolate wrappers, crisp bags, chippy takeaway cartons. The place smelled - dirt, crap food, stale ciggie smoke, with an undercurrent of booze and weed. Offensive it was, and all the more so when I saw Rosie sitting in the middle of it sucking on a chocolate biscuit, face grubby, hands filthy. My heart lurched when I saw her, that blank look again. She was staring at cartoons on the telly and didn't look up until Shar yelled at her, making me wince.

But the little glimmer of recognition in her eye, the tiny smile, was all I needed.

Shar left. I tidied up, at least the litter and the ashtrays and the dirty dishes. I chatted to Rosie as I did, and she chatted back every now and then. The cartoons had her attention, but there was a little there for me too.

She was grubby. I asked if she wanted a bath. She shook her head, but I talked her into it before bed-time. She was happy in the bath and smiled shyly at me. I washed her all over, not as explicitly as I had at my place, but I made sure her "bits" were clean. I tickled her all over, ribs and tummy and down between her legs, and she giggled and her eyes shone again. I rubbed her dry, stroking her gently with the towel, dressed her in her pj's (Disney's Snow White), then sat her on my lap and read her a story from one of the few battered books I could find lying around. She snuggled into me, all warm and smelling of sweet, damp child, and sucked her thumb. I cuddled her and kissed her hair and tried to make sure she couldn't feel my erection.

After the stories (we read as many as I could find) I carried her to the bathroom, brushed her teeth for her, played a little game of "suck each other's fingers" then carried her to her shabby little bedroom and tucked her in. I kissed her nose, saying "Night night sweetie".

"Night night unca Tom," she replied in a lovely, lovely, sleepy little voice.

I waited up for Shar, who came in drunk, then went home, stripped off and masturbated slowly with Rosie's worn panties held up to my face. Was that bad? Maybe, maybe so. But they smelled of her, of pee and poo and little girl heaven and I came like a bastard.

After that I paid more attention to the sounds from next door, and a dull anger at Shar and a desire to take Rosie away from her crap life grew slowly in me. Her mother shouted at her most of the time. Rosie's crying was a sound I came to hate, particularly the sharp escalation of sound that I knew resulted from a slap to her bum or legs. Every time I heard that I ground my teeth and forced myself to stay still, not to kick the door in and see how that miserable excuse for a mother liked being slapped. There was a succession of guys cruise through the flat, near as I could tell, and often part of me sat on edge, waiting for the first male voice raised against Rosie. If I'd heard that I'd have been round to fill the bastard in faster than he'd know what was happening. But as luck turned out, I never heard a guy yell at her - at Shar, yes, but I think Rosie knew how to keep her lovely little head down. Poor kid.

Over the next couple of weeks I babysat a few more times, and each time Shar would be later getting home, later and drunker. One of the last times, a good year and a half ago it is now, she brought a fella. It was past midnight and she and this lanky streak in scruffy denims come stumbling and fumbling through the door making a heck of a noise. I heard Rosie wake up with a little startled cry, but before I could respond the lanky streak was mouthing off - "Who's this geezer, wot's 'e fuckin' doin' 'ere? Wot you fuckin' lookin' at, then? Wot you fink I'm some fuckin' tosser? Yeah you, mate, who else m'I fuckin' talkin' to, what you fuckin' lookin' at me like that for? You fuckin' want some?"

I was trying to extract myself and leave, but lanky streak was pissed and trying to be hard. He got up in my face and tried it on so I had to put him in a wrist lock, help him find his manners. I was tempted to dislocate his elbow for him, foul-mouthed git, but I resisted. He squealed loud enough as it was and bolted for the door as soon as I let him go. Shar was yelling at me. Rosie had started crying. Shar shouted through at her, then stumbled off to her room and slammed the door. I went through to Rosie's room, picked her up, cuddled her, calmed her, kissed her cheek, tucked her in, waited a little while until her eyes closed again, then whispered night-night and let myself out.

It was only a few days later that Shar asked again. She'd either forgotten the fuss, or didn't remember it, or didn't care. I reminded her, she mumbled like yeah, sorry, won't happen again, I said OK. Of course I said OK; I was starting to look for any opportunity to spend time with Rosie. I loved bathing her, loved the feel of her soft little body under my fingers, loved the look in her eyes, loved her little gorgeous girly smile. That smile was for me. I was "unca Tom", the kind man from next door who actually spent some time with her, held her, cuddled her, read to her. Loved her.

So Shar was late again, drunk again, with a fella again, a different one. There was no scene this time, just a passing nod with some thuggish-looking lout in a biker's jacket, but I left feeling bad for Rosie. Something had to change, and there were all sorts of reasons to change it.

I found an old camp bed down one of those second-hand furniture places. I fixed it up, found a decent mattress and some nice kids' bedding, and rearranged my little office into a spare bedroom for Rosie. At Shar's next ask, shortly after Rosie's fourth birthday, I suggested that Rosie stay over with me. I showed the two of them the bed (although without the cute bedding, because that might have looked premeditated and creepy), and Shar was perfectly fine - grateful, in fact. And that's how it started. Most Fridays, some Saturdays, other odd days, a couple of times a week, Shar would drop Rosie off, Rosie and I would have tea and a fun evening and I would tuck her up in the kiddies' bed I'd made up. Shar would text me in the morning to let me know when she wanted to be a mother again. Sometimes it was near lunchtime, but damned if I cared. And damned, I think, if Rosie cared. From the hugs and kisses and cuddles and smiles, I knew where Rosie preferred to be.

I gave Rosie a bath every time she stayed, because quite honestly she usually needed one. I'm not sure if she ever got one at Shar's. I bathed her and dried her and tickled her and made her squirm and giggle, and soon our tickling games between her legs became kissing games. I'll never forget that first time. I'd bathed her as usual, lifted her into a big fluffy towel and she'd thrown her arms around my neck and I just carried her through to my bedroom. It seemed entirely natural. I laid her down in the middle of the towel, still damp, and started kissing her tummy. She giggled as I kissed lower and lower, and propped herself up on her chubby little elbows to watch me as I kissed her pussy for the first time. Oh my God I was shaking. God she was perfect - up close her pussy was just the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and kissing it softly seemed the most natural thing in the world. I kissed her, licked her gently, blew little puffs of air on her, and she spread her little legs apart for me and giggled softly as I drank from her sweet young well.

I looked up into her eyes and licked her tiny little pussy, and I swear to God I came in my pants. Never before, never since, but that first time I licked Rosie I filled my shorts. I tried to hide it from her but she could sense there was something different. I suppose I made some strange noise, closed my eyes, shuddered.

"Unca Tom? You alright unca Tom? Did I make you feel bad?"

As long as I live, that'll stay with me - the concern in her sweet, sweet little voice. I'd cum in my pants because I'd been licking a four-year-old girl's gorgeous pussy, and she was worried she'd upset me! I climbed onto the bed and scooped her up and held her and kissed her hair and told her I loved her so much I'd gone dizzy, and lust and shame mingled with love and tenderness roared through me as I hugged her and stroked her soft, damp little body.

The next time she came over I asked her if I could bathe with her and she loved the idea. So we did, and of course she noticed I was different, and she soon she discovered, with almost no encouragement from me, that if you play with a willy it gets bigger. That became our word - "willy" - because I was wary of teaching her words she didn't know. Her pussy we called her "thingy" - a terrible term for such a glorious little part of her, but that's what her mum called it, so thingy it was. Willy and thingy. And willies do get bigger if you play with them, and especially if you lick them.

She asked me that, I swear to God: "Unca Tom can I kiss your willy?" We were chatting in the bath and I was washing her between the legs, and she was washing me too, as she did, and I'd asked her if she liked me kissing her thingy, and she's said, yes it felt all lovely and tingly, and then, she asked me if she could do the same to me. And of course, you know what I said.

I didn't cum, but my God it was close. Her face set in a serious mask of little-girl concentration, she took hold of my aching erection in both little hands and kissed the end. I gave her little words of encouragement as my fingers ground into the sides of the bath, and within a few minutes she was licking me and sucking me and my belly was taut as a drumskin. Oh God Rosie...!

"Does it feel tingly for you unca Tom?" she asked, cocking her head on one side.

"Yes, sweetie, yes it feels lovely and tingly. Just lovely..."

And so, by the time she was five, this sex play was normal for us. Shar would drop her off with lots of "you be good, miss, an' don' you give Mr Vine no trouble, see?", give me some story about popping round first thing to collect her, then disappearing along the walkway as fast as her white stilettos would allow. I'd close the door and scoop Rosie up into a hug, and she'd throw her arms around my neck and squeeze tight and kiss my face, sometimes with little-girl pecks but sometimes with her big, soft, open-mouthed kisses.

My God her kisses... That's one of the absolute sexiest things, kissing her - her mouth, that is. The first time I asked her to give me a kiss, of course she did the classic little girl thing of pursing her lips tightly and pecking at my mouth like a bird. I told her how lovely it was, but I suggested gently we could try different kinds of kissing to see which we liked most. I taught her first just to relax her mouth, keep her sweet little lips soft and press them to mine. The first time she did that, the first time she pressed her gorgeously soft and tiny four-year-old lips to mine, I tell you I got a bolt of electricity right down my spine. I still do. Her little-girl kisses give me the shivers every time. And an instant erection, of course.

Over the months we "got to know each other" our kissing became more practised and more, well, erotic, plain and simple. She would press her little lips gently to mine and gradually open her mouth as I opened my own and we would hover like that, just touching, our open mouths together, her tiny one against my adult one. She very quickly learned how to use her tongue in kissing me, licking my lips and reaching into my mouth to "tickle my tongue" as she puts it. And the first time I got her to suck on my lower lip I just about came in my pants. That's the best - little Rosie sucking gently on my bottom lip, her earnest little eyes looking into mine and sparkling with love and mischief. Oh, my little one...

So when I pick her up, or when Shar drops her off, and I get the soft, open-mouthed kisses I know what she wants to do. It's her sweet little signal that she wants "kissy games" straight away. I'll carry her through to my bedroom, and she's usually kissing me open-mouthed by this point. I'll lie her down in the middle of the bed and undress her lower half. It's always such a thrill pulling down her cute little knickers - the sight of her lovely little pussy, all small and bald and soft, makes my heart race. So I'll pull down her knickers and ask "what game shall we play?" and Rosie would chorus back "kissy game!", in her beautiful, giggly voice.

And then I go down on her. Rosie just loves to have me lick her pussy and bum while she lies on her back with her legs in the air, squirming and giggling. And I just love to do it for her. If I'm honest, I prefer doing it straight away, before she has a bath, when the glorious places between her legs smell of rich, hot, little girl smells. I just love smelling her panties while she's still wearing them, nuzzling my nose into them as she squirms and wriggles and laughs. They smell of pee, and poo, and sweat, but it's all so delicate - it's like roses to me. She's usually not had a bath since she was last with me, and sometimes that can be days, and her crotch smells... oh, God, dirty and heavenly all at once. I lick her clean, I really do, even when her bum's obviously dirty. I lift her legs and spread her buttocks and lick her dirty bottom clean because I love her and she makes me so damn hard...

I love the feeling of her tiny little puckered anus under my tongue, and I love the sensation of her soft, smooth pussy lips in my mouth, my tongue wiggling between them against her hymen. I have this way of diddling the tip of my tongue against her peehole and the tiny fold that will become the hood of her clit one day. Once I start to do that seriously she goes still and often grabs hold of my hair or my ear. After a while she makes the most delightful little sounds - little baby sighs and grunts - and sometimes she shivers all over, and sometimes she just rolls away from me, but always we have a big, big cuddle, and I bury my nose in her soft blonde hair and think I'm the luckiest guy alive.

We have sex every time she comes to stay. It's part of our bond, part of our love.

Her first sight of semen was when I wanked myself off while she watched. We were sitting watching cartoons after our bath, naked, snuggled under towels. She'd been licking me in the bath and I was so on the edge, and she was playing with my dick, just idly stroking but she'd caught it just so and I was past the point of no return. I warned her I was about to cum - "Honey, you've made me so excited I'm going to squirt stuff from my willy. Mmm, careful now... Oh, Rosie..."

I took my dick off her and pointed it straight up and within a couple of seconds I was squirting semen a good few inches into the air. She watched with her gorgeous little mouth a round 'O' of surprise as I gasped and came, splattering semen across my belly, then she giggled hugely.

"Did I make you wee?" she asked. No, I explained, when men get really excited, when they're with girls they love, they "squirt" different stuff, white stuff like this. ("White stuff" seemed a technical enough phrase for us to use.)

Quite unprovoked she dipped her finger into the pool on my belly and stirred it around.

"Looks like yoghurt," she said, her look of concentration appearing, and as I watched, my own mouth metaphorically open in an 'O' of surprise, she stirred some more and then raised a blob to her lips and licked it away.

"What does it taste of, honey?" I managed to ask, "Good? Bad?"

"Mmm, nothing really. It's OK! Show me how to make you squirt, unca Tom!"

Over the following months I taught her how to wank me using babyoil, how to get my dick all slippery then use her little fists to stroke me top to bottom. She took great delight in making me squirt and she would always taste a little blob of semen as I lay gasping and pinching myself and wondering when I was going to wake up.

We had fun with the babyoil. I showed her how we could get us both all slippery then rub each other in lovely, tingly ways. I showed her how we could explore each other, and was amazed at how quickly she got comfortable with my finger up her bum. She says it feels nice and big up her bum and she likes that. I showed her how to diddle her own little "button", that special place at the top of her "thingy", and we played games of mutual masturbation where we'd watch each other masturbate for a little, then swap. She loves to watch me wank myself - it's how she learned to get so good herself.

Pretty soon I was rubbing my dick all over her gorgeous little body, on her pussy, between her soft thighs, between her tight little buttocks, even clamped between her arm and her chest. One favourite position is for me to lie on my back with her face down on my chest, tummy to tummy. I slide my dick up between her slippery thighs and hold her legs together with mine while I screw her with my dick nestled right against her pussy. I usually have my finger up her bum too, and I tend to cum very quickly, spraying semen all over her bottom and back. It makes her laugh. Then it's off to the bath, then kissy games on my bed as I bring her to that gorgeous, sweet shivery little state that she loves so much.

I led us slowly towards full blowjobs, and she was still startled the first time I came in her mouth but soon got used to it. Sometimes she spits, sometimes she swallows, depending on her mood, but either way, ejaculating in a five-year-old's mouth is the most incredibly erotic thing I can honestly imagine. Her big, blue eyes widening, glittering, as she feels me getting near; her little hands clamping tighter; her lips sucking more fiercely, then... Whoosh! Oh God, Rosie!

We sleep together these days. I still keep the camp bed made up for when she comes round, and I still mess it up every evening, but she prefers sleeping with me in the big bed. And I have to say, waking up with a hardon next to a hot little five year old is just so sweet. I love to rub her body gently while she's still sleeping, go down on her and gently lick her awake. She loves this. She wakes slowly, and she's still lovely and girly-sleepy as she spreads her legs for me. Sometimes she wants to suck me off too, although I'm often getting edgy in case her mother turns up early for a change.

Shar doesn't seem to improve much. She's had a succession of men, coming and going -I can't decide if she's on the game or not. Probably is, unofficially, like. She had one guy lasted a bit longer than most. He was the closest thing Rosie might have had to a stepfather, but she clearly preferred her unca Tom. The guy - big, burly Luke the mechanic - dropped her off one night and muscled in to check me out. Found the little bed all ready, although I could tell he was still suspicious. He kept giving me the evil eye as he watched Rosie settle down to play with some of the charity-shop toys and books I'd accumulated for her over the past year. I knew what he was thinking.

I asked him straight, you got a problem mate? Something on your mind? He backed down of course, muttered something about Shar wanting to know whether Rosie was OK staying here.

"Ask her yourself, mate," I replied easily. "She's a good kid, no bother at all, and it's nice having her around. My wife and I never had kids - "this always makes me mist over, and it's genuine enough, but perhaps it was disrespectful to use it like that. Sorry, Denise, love.

Anyway, it sorted Luke out. He left well mollified, even apologised. You know, he might've been OK for Rosie as a step-dad, but Shar dumped him a couple of months later. She really is a dozy cow.

Rosie started school just last month, and I bought at least part of her first school uniform 'cos Shar really is a complete waste of space. Half the time I take her to school, and sometimes pick her up when Shar "has to go out, y'know, urgent like." I like picking Rosie up. She holds my hand all the way home and chatters about this and that, and when we get to mine she's often in the mood for kissy games. You ever had a five-year-old schoolgirl lie on your bed, lift up her grey pleated skirt, spread her legs and ask you to lick her pussy - still in her school shoes and white cotton socks? Yeah, exactly.

Sometimes I join her on the bed and kneel between her legs and rub my dick on her silk-smooth pussy lips and cum between her soft, white legs, all over her little pussy, cum all over her naked five-year old pussy while she giggles and pouts and rubs her own clitty with an eager little finger.

And so Rosie's the little girl next door, and my beautiful, secret girlfriend. And that's us about up to date with where we are. Well, apart from last night.

Last night was the first time we had full anal sex.

It was Friday night. Shar called me early Friday, asked if I could pick Rosie up from school and have her overnight. Shar was "goin to ma sister's, she's avin bovver, real bovver with er fella an that, y'know? I gotta go, and it's just shit for Rosie, y'know, Tom? An she likes stayin wiv you, y'know?" Yeah, doll, I know. I know real well. "Fanks, Tom, I dunno wor I'd do wivout ya, you're a blessin you are, fuckin blessin'." This was eleven in the morning and she was already drunk or stoned. Just a disaster.

Well, that was all good for me. I went shopping, got Rosie's favourite tea in -pizza, she's a big pizza fan, and Coke. I took a shower and shaved carefully, feeling a little self-conscious, laughing at myself in fact, but damn it I wanted to be at my best for my sweet little girlfriend!

I picked her up from school and walked her home, holding hands like real uncle and niece; or like lovers. I didn't rush things once we were back: I put on the TV, let her chill out with some cartoon junk, snuggled up next to her on the sofa. I petted her gently as she watched, thumb in mouth as usual - just stroked her hair and kissed her head, squeezed her and patted her bum. She is just so lovely, such a beautiful little girl. She nestled into me, and I got aroused, of course I did, but I didn't make a big thing about it. She noticed at one point - "Is your willy hard, unca Tom?" -and I kissed her head and said "Yes, honey. I'm terrible aren't I?" and she giggled and stroked me through my jeans for a while. Lord that feels so good...

I made us an early dinner, pizza and ice cream and Coke on the side. As we were finishing up I asked her if she'd like to try that special thing we'd talked about just recently, that special snuggly game?

"You mean you put your willy up my bum?" she asked in reply, and I nearly dropped the damn bowls just to hear her say it.

"Yeah, sweetheart, that's the one. You want to try that tonight? I think a big, grown-up schoolgirl like you will be ready for that, don't you?"

She'd cocked her head to one side and pursed her lips in her cute-as-hell little-girl serious face, and asked "Uh-huh. Will it hurt, though?"

"I don't think it will, honey. I think it will be fine. You know you like my fingers up your bum, and my willy's not that much bigger. I reckon you'll be just fine. We'll use the special super-slippy stuff, but if it does hurt we'll just stop, OK? Don't want to hurt my little Rosie, do I? I never want to hurt my little Rosie."

She smiled up at me. I put the bowls into the sink, then picked her up and carried her through to the bedroom, cradling her beautiful little bottom in my hand, nuzzling her cheek and nibbling on her tiny earlobe. I sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her. First of all I stripped off her socks, one at a time, kissing her beautiful little feet and nibbling her toes. I love her toes - damn it I love everything about her - but her toes are such perfect little miniatures, doll's toes, and she loves having them kissed and nibbled. She hadn't bathed for a few days, but that slight scent of foot-sweat - so obnoxious on anyone else - on her just raised my pulse rate and made me hornier than ever. I kissed and sucked her toes, taking her whole foot into my mouth, and she giggled and teased me, twitching her feet away so I had to chase them like a hungry shark. Nom nom nom!

I unbuttoned her school shirt and helped her off with it, then slipped her little vest off over her head. I laid her back on the bed and kissed her tummy and chest, blowing gentle raspberries on her smooth, warm skin. She lifted her bottom and I wriggled down her pleated skirt and plain white knickers together, and there she was, gloriously naked. I chatted to her as I undressed, telling her what a beautiful girl she was, pretty as a princess, the most beautiful girl I'd ever met, and every word was true. She is. She's all these things and more. I love her, I really do.

When I was naked, I lay down next to her and kissed her gently on the mouth. She responded, opening her mouth to kiss me back "like a big girl", and for a while we tickled each other's tongues, my breathing getting ever more ragged, my dick getting ever harder and leaking steadily. I stroked her skin, her flank, her thigh, only lightly brushing over her perfect little mound, nothing heavy. She rubbed my chest and occasionally played with the end of my dick, smearing my precum across the head with her little fingers. After a while I wriggled around, lifted her gently onto my chest and pulled her bum to my face.

I love eating her this way, her little thighs either side of my neck and her gorgeous perineal area right in my face. I can cover her pussy and anus completely with my mouth, and it's the most erotic thing I've ever done. I can lick on her pussy and bum for hours. Again, tonight she was a little less than spotlessly clean and as I licked her I asked if she'd had a poo today. She said yes, she had, at school, and I heard the catch in her sweet little voice as I licked her anus clean and savoured the sweet tastes of her pussy. She was playing with my dick, fingers tickling and probing the wet head. Every now and then she would wiggle a little finger into my hole - such an intense pleasure-pain thing but one that drives me wild.

My tongue worked at her tiny rosebud of an anus, wriggling and probing, and soon I joined in with a finger. I'd had my fingers up Rosie's bum for over a year now, gently getting her used to the idea of anal penetration, then comfortable with it, and recently actively stimulated by it. She enjoyed the feeling of fullness, and I loved doing anything and everything that she enjoyed. I loved her sweet little body, loved to make it sing for her.

With just the lubrication of my saliva I could get a finger right up her bum and I wriggled it up there tonight. With my finger firmly engaged I pushed her bottom with my hand, urging her to move down a little. "Kiss my willy, sweetie, give me some big wet willy kisses," I murmured, and she shuffled down, legs splayed wide across my chest, to grasp my dick in one little hand and bring it into her sweet, hot little mouth. I stroked her pussy with one finger, my right index finger firmly embedded in her little bum as she sucked the head of my dick, her tongue flicking and circling with the skill of a practised concubine.

Oh heavenly Rosie! Her mouth is small, of course, and it fits around the head of my dick like a hot little glove. It's explosive, and that evening Rosie had really tuned into my excitement over our new "experiment". She had me gasping and twitching within a minute as she sucked me fiercely, her bottom wriggling in front of me. I'm a big one for visuals in sex, and this was one of my favourite views - Rosie's little bum spread wide open as she straddled me. I strained forward to tickle her with my tongue, my fingers working her pliant anus and soft, sweet little pussy. I so wanted to penetrate her there, but her hymen was intact and firm and the safety of keeping our love secret was something we'd been over many a time.

After a while I rolled her gently off, rearranged her on her back, lifted her legs and asked her to hold them so she displayed her bits to their best advantage. I went down on her again, deep, loving kissy games, my tongue between her pussy lips, up and down her delicate slit, delving into her bum. Her anus was wet and relaxed now -I could wriggle the tip of my tongue right in there - and my dick ached at the prospect of her. A splash of KY and we'll be right as rain. You beautiful little creature, Rosie Sparks...

One final switch and I knelt on the bed, my wet dick straight out, and asked her to suck me again. This is the second super-visual position I love - Rosie on all fours sucking my dick, looking up at me with her big, round, beautiful blue eyes. She knows it's one of my special things, and she likes to do special things for me. We love to do special things for each other. It's... just wonderful. She looked up into my eyes and sucked my dick, her fingers playing around my balls and my belly, and the tension built in my insides and my precum flowed into her gorgeous little mouth. I was ready, and so was she.

I gently disengaged my dick. She wiped the drool from her lips with the back of her hand and looked up for instructions. I pulled over a pillow and lay it down between my thighs, then patted it for her to lie on. We found her head drooped a bit off the end, so we arranged another one to prop her up so she could look at what was happening between her legs more easily. A delightful curiosity, she has. I spread her legs across my thighs and tugged her forward so that my hard, wet dick was aimed right her perineum. I squeezed a good dose of KY onto my dick, then helped her sit up so she could smear it all around. She was amazed at how slippery it was - usually we used baby oil in our play - and she was fascinated by the feel of her little hand slithering all over my dick. She wasn't the only one.

I laid her back gently, then squeezed more KY onto my fingers and slowly worked it into her anus. I chatted as I did so, telling her again what a beautiful little angel she was, what a gorgeous, pretty little girl. I told her how much I loved her as I slid my fingers - first one, then a second - easily into her bum. My dick throbbed; this was going to work fine.

"Rosie baby I love you so much, hon, you know that? You're such a special girl to me."

"I love you too unca Tom," she replied, her big, soft eyes on mine, her legs spread wide as I prepared her anus to accept an adult male penis for the first time.

I put down the tube of gel, then held her thigh gently with one hand as I manouevered my dick with the other. She smiled at me, a little nervously, as she felt my dick nuzzle against her anus. I pushed slowly but steadily, and any fears we'd both had melted away as my dick slipped gently, sweetly into her hot, tight little bum.

"Oh Rosie..." I breathed as I felt myself enter her. She was tight, gorgeously tight, but she wasn't fighting. She bit her lip as she looked at me, but her eyes were shining. "Oh Rosie you big, clever girl! Oh Rosie honey what a super clever girl you are... Does that feel OK? Oh, honey it feels perfect for me..."

She nodded, her eyes switching between mine and the space between her legs as I began to rock gently.

"Do you feel all full up?" I asked softly, the sensations coursing through my dick more incredible than I'd ever imagined.

"Uh-huh," she replied. "It feels nice. Full up and nice."

We found she was perfectly comfortable with the head of my dick right in her rectum and her anus gripping my shaft just below the head - and I found that arrangement utterly mind-blowing. Within a few seconds of getting there I felt a massive orgasm building. I moved very slowly, partly for her, partly for me, and chatted softly about what I was feeling, how good she made me feel, how gorgeous she was.

"Rosie, honey, I'm going to squirt really very soon, sweetheart. Do you feel OK about me squirting right up your bum like this?"

Because she's a complete angel, she nodded at once.

"I love it when you squirt, unca Tom." Her eyes were big and round, fixed on mine. "Will I poo your white stuff out later?"

I grinned in spite of myself. "I guess so, honey. I'll help you clean up. We'll have a bath soon... but... oh Rosie... oh sweetie... oh Lord... ohhhh...."

I slowed right down, and her anal sphincter gave me a perfect little squeeze. I let go of her thigh so as not to grind my fingers into her as my balls exploded and I came massively inside her, one long, long eruption followed by four, five smaller squirts and jerks, and five-year-old Rosie Sparks smiled and grunted her delight as I came up her bum for the first time...

A little later we bathed, and for the rest of the evening we played games and watched TV and snuggled and kissed and licked, naked both. I gave her several of her beautiful little shivery "orgasms", and I confess that I sucked a fair amount of my semen from her bottom while she giggled and squirmed. It made my so damn horny, I tell you.

I tucked her into bed, my big bed, around ten, as her eyes were practically closed. I stuck a hot water bottle into the little camp bed, and joined my gorgeous little lover around midnight. I fell asleep with her curled next to me, the most wonderful sleeping-girl expression on her face. In the morning I licked her awake, cuddled her glorious little naked body and masturbated all over her beautiful pussy while she watched. I gave her another bath, without me this time, and now she's sitting watching Saturday morning TV while I pour myself another cup of tea and gaze out my little kitchen window, the biggest, stupidest grin all over my face...

So am I a paedophile? Yes. Have I seduced a little girl into having sex with me? Yes, I guess so.

Am I a bad man?

Ask Rosie.