Chapter One

The invitation to my cousin Ben's fortieth birthday party arrived just as I was finalizing my plans to drive to the Midwest to visit my parents, whom I hadn't seen in a couple of years. Both Mom and Dad are elderly, and they've been sick for a long time, so this trip was long overdue.

I'd never been close to Ben, considering the fact that he's a good dozen years younger than I. His dad is my mom's bother, and we both have large families (Ben is the ninth of twelve kids, while I'm the second of six). Still, I had always been close to my Uncle Patrick, and cousin Pat and I had grown up together. The birthday party would be an excellent opportunity to visit not only my brothers and sisters, but also most of my cousins. (I expected a third branch of the family, the one with only five kids, to be well-represented as well).

I've been divorced for six years and my own kids are grown and on their own, so I took my time - two who days - driving east from Denver. I arrived on July 1st and was staying at my sister Maggie's house, but on the 4th we each drove our own cars to Ben's party. She wanted to go with her daughter Lorna, and I drove my own car so I'd have more freedom of movement.

The party was good - lots of delicious food (including an entire roasted pig) and the beer was flowing freely. It was a warm, sunny day, but without the overbearing heat and mugginess one often experiences on the Fourth. It was great to visit my uncle and aunt, and I saw cousins I hadn't seen in years.

Ben's house is nice but rather modest. He explained that his birthday is actually in March, but that his wife wanted to have the party in the summer so that the numerous family could be outside. It made a lot of sense, since rented tables and chairs, even tents, could be placed in the good-sized yard. They even rented a small, inflatable waterslide for the kids.

After dinner and three or four beers I had to take a leak, so I headed for the first-floor john. To my dismay, the door was closed and there were four dripping-wet little girls in line in front of me.

"Are all of you waiting to go to the bathroom?" I asked no one in particular, wondering if I'd have to sneak behind a neighbor's tree.

"We're just going to change our clothes," replied the tallest girl, whom I recognized as Ben's daughter Nathalia.

"I've really got to pee," I said. "Do you think I could sneak in before you guys?" The girls looked at one another without responding. Shifting from one foot to the other, I tried again. "Since you're just going to change your clothes, but I have to pee, how about if I went in with you? I won't look." "Here, look, I'll even give you a dollar each," I said, taking out my wallet. I should have made a pit stop after that third beer.

"You're my daddy's cousin, aren't you?" asked Nathalia.

"Yes, I am," I answered, shifting my weight from one foot to another. I was getting desperate.

"You can use the bathroom upstairs if you want," the girl told me.

"Where's that?" "Just go upstairs and turn left," she replied.

I dashed upstairs and took a leak; what a relief! I was slightly disappointed that my dirty old man personality had been so flatly rejected. To my surprise, Nathalia and the other girls, somewhat drier but still in their bathing suits, were standing outside the door.

"We were talking about it ... what you said about giving us some money," said Nathalia. "Do you want to watch us when we change into our clothes?"

I didn't know how to answer that, so I simply stared.

A second girl, about three inches shorter and with darker hair than Nathalia said, "But you can't touch us - just look. Nobody except a doctor is supposed to touch us in the areas beneath our bathing suits."

The third girl was about the same height, and she added, "And we've decided that you'll have to give us TWO dollars, not just one."

"Yeah, two dollars," echoed the smallest girl. "Each," as if that might stop my enjoyment of a tween strip show.

I glanced around the hallway and looked down the staircase. I took out my wallet -- two twenties, a five, and four singles. "Are you serious?" I asked. "You won't tell anybody?"

They all nodded. One girl giggled and another saluted with two fingers and said, "Brownie promise."

"Okay, I've got eight dollars, but you'll have to break a five," I said.

All four girls were giggled and then led me to Nathalia's bedroom. I watched as Nathalia locked the door behind us before I handed her the $8.00. She took the money and went to her dresser. She fumbled with her back to us inside a drawer before coming back with six singles, which she distributed to the other girls. She looked me in the eye and said, "Remember, you can't touch. My dad and Grace's dad are cops, so I'm not kidding."

"That's okay," I said, walking over to the bed. "I'll just sit here and watch. Let me see - your name is Nathalia, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And how old are you, Nathalia?"

"I'm nine," she said, smiling. "My birthday was in May, but we're having the party now so that everyone in the family can be here."

"Okay, but I don't know the other girls."

"Well, I'm the oldest. Therese - that's the girl with the yellow bikini - is my cousin. Her mom and my mom are sisters. Anyway, she's eight. And Grace, the girl with the brown hair and the blue one-piece, is eight too. Her dad works with my dad. They're both police officers. Finally, there's Karen, who's another cousin. Her dad is my mom's brother. She's only six, but she's really smart."

The other girls nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

"So the littlest is Karen, and she's six. Grace and Therese are eight, and you're nine. I think I can remember that," I said. I felt a stirring in my loins, but I wanted to get my bearings first. I took a deep breath and said, "Well, I suppose you want to know something about me. My name is ... my name is Ed ... and I'm ... I'm a few years older than Nathalia's dad. I'm ... um... 49; I'm single, and I don't have any kids."

My real name is Tony, and I'm actually 52 with two grown kids, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to prevaricate a bit. Nathalia and the girls had promised to keep this little adventure a secret, but life's indiscretions often have a way of becoming public knowledge.

I sat on Nathalia's single bed in the middle of a large bedroom. The pre-tween's room was decorated much as one might expect - pale pink walls with matching curtains, Hannah Montana and another Disney-Channel hero posted on the walls, and numerous stuffed animals all around. She seemed to have an affinity for unicorns, as there were about a dozen of the little creatures on a shelf. The house is air-conditioned so the windows were closed and I couldn't hear the steady murmur of voices from two-score visitors at the backyard party.

The girls stood together in a circle, and after a moment's hesitation, they started to undress. At first I was a bit disappointed, because the way they were standing together meant I couldn't see much at all. Only blonde Therese was actually facing me; I glanced at her bald pussy, but her movements were quick and I only briefly saw her slit. Nathalia and Grace stood at 90º from me, so I saw them from the side. Grace didn't offer me anything, but Nathalia's breasts had begun to bud, and I was able to see the protrusion of her little nipple, which hadn't been visible when she wore her bikini. I had a nice view of six-year-old Karen's tiny, round butt, but unfortunately that didn't last long. The girls huddled, and as I was thinking about leaving, they turned around to face me. Pedophile's delight!

Grace asked, "Do you want to see our dance?"

I nodded, and she connected an iPod to a speaker system. All four girls began dancing what was clearing a well-rehearsed and well-choreographed dance. It was nearly as good as another one performed by girls their age which scandalously made it to the morning talk shows; in fact, it was even more erotic. The talk-show girls had dressed in skimpy red-and-black French whore outfits; my dancers were as naked as the day they were born. Whether they jumped, did the splits, stroked their thighs, wiggled their butts, or simply ran around, it was a sight to turn on even the most strait-laced and devoted anti-pedophile.

In my case, it was just too much. I had promised I would respect the girls and I wouldn't try to cop a feel, but I figured the "no touching" rule didn't apply to myself. I yanked my pants down and began whacking away.

The music ended all too soon, even before I had a chance to come. The girls walked over to my bed.

"What are you doing?" asked Therese.

"I couldn't help myself," I replied. "You girls are just so cute!"

"Why is your thing so big?" asked Grace.

"I can't help it," I answered. "It always gets this way when I see pretty, naked little girls."

All four girls giggled at my comment. Nathalia asked, "Can I touch it?" When I consented to her request, she and Therese each tentatively poked me with their index fingers.

"Why's it get so hard like that?"

"It has to be stiff if I'm going to stick it into your vagina," I explained.

"But why... ?"

"Oh!" gasped Nathalia. "That's why our moms said no one is supposed to touch us there. That's how you make babies, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but you girls are too young to actually get pregnant," I said both to reassure them and to suggest that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if we took that next logical step.

No one actually took the bait, but Grace spoke up. "Can I feel it?"

Unlike the other two girls, who had been too frightened to actually grab me, Grace placed her hand firmly on my cock and, although it didn't go around completely, she gripped tightly. Then she began jerking me off much as she had seen me do a few moments before.

Masturbation comes easily enough to most of us, but good manual stimulation of someone else takes practice and skill. Young Grace had neither of these, and she tugged too hard. I winced.

"Here, let me show you how to do that," I said, placing my right hand over hers.

The other three girls watched attentively as Grace and I jerked off - slowly at first, and picking up speed as I got closer to coming. Sensing that the child understood how to proceed, I let go of her hand and allowed her to continue by herself.

"You're doing that really well," I said. "I'm going to ejaculate in a minute or so ... just keep stroking me ... oh yes ... yes ... oh ... don't slow down ... oh ... oh ... ohhh!"

I'm not as young as I used to be, but semen erupted into the air, forming two good-sized puddles on my stomach. Grace squealed in delight, and I ordered her to continue pumping until I was dry. The remainder of my semen oozed out of my cock, thickly covering the girl's dainty hand.

"What is this stuff?" she asked.

"Go ahead and lick it off your fingers," I answered. "It isn't pee, and in fact, it's quite good for you. It's mostly protein."

"Yeah, but what is it, exactly?" asked Therese.

"Don't you get it?" responded the older and more sophisticated Nathalia. "That's the seeds that a boy makes babies with."

Therese and Grace nodded knowingly, but little Karen asked, "What?"

"When a man and woman love each other very much, the man puts his ... his ... well, you know ... into the girl's ... vagina," explained Nathalia. "Then he plants a tiny seed, and that grows into a baby. Nine months later the baby comes out."

"And this white stuff is the seed?" Therese asked me.

Grace had her middle finger in her mouth, but she stopped abruptly. "I won't have a ... get ... get pregnant, will I?" she asked.

"One thing at a time," I laughed. "No Grace, you won't get pregnant. In the first place, I would have to put my penis inside your vagina for that to happen. In the second place, you're too young. As for Therese's question: the white stuff is called 'semen, ' and it actually contains millions of tiny seeds. By the way, the correct term is spermazoids."

"Did you eat that stuff ... er, semen?" Nathalia asked Grace.

"I just licked it off my fingers," the girl replied defensively.

"What's it taste like?" "Well, it doesn't really have much taste," Grace replied. "It's pretty good, I guess."

"It won't hurt you - it's 100% natural," I assured the girls.

Nathalia giggled and looked at Grace before sticking her finger into the gob on my stomach. "It's real sticky!" she laughed.

"Can I try it?" asked Therese.

"Sure, go ahead," I said. "Lick it."

The girl grimaced. Grace grabbed my now-flaccid dick, and Therese bent over, licking the semen off my dickhead. Smiling, she stuck out her tongue, displaying the white fluid.

Nathalia gasped, stuck her hand in her crotch, and said, "I can't believe you did that! Oh, God! I'll be right back - I have to go to the bathroom."

She wrapped herself in a large 'Toy Story 3' beach towel and dashed out of the room.

Therese stopped her ministrations and closed the door. "Can you do that again? Can you squirt some more of that ... um..."

" ... semen," I filled in. "But lots of people call it 'come.' And well, yes and no. I can come again ... um... squirt ... but you'll have to wait a few minutes for me to recuperate."

"Why?" asked one of the girls.

"That's just the way it is," I explained. "When a guy ejaculates - you know, when he squirts - it takes a lot of energy, and his body has to build up again. It takes about half an hour." "How much is that?" asked Karen.

Grace answered. "See that clock? It's five minutes to seven now, and half an hour is when the big hand gets to the five."

"Is that a long time?" "Kind of," said Grace.

"My mom said she wants me to get dressed so we can go home at 7:30."

"Aren't you going to stay for the fireworks?"

"I guess not," she admitted. "My dad has to work tomorrow, and he has to get up early."

"Yeah, I have to go at 7:30 too," said Therese, dejectedly. She and Grace then sauntered off to where they had left their clothes.

"How about you, Mr. Ed?" asked Karen. "Are you going to stay for the fireworks?"

"Wouldn't miss them for the world," I said. I've been a fireworks fanatic since I was a kid, and there had even been some joking that Ben had purposefully chosen the Fourth for his party so that I would attend.

"Oh, good," she said. "Then you can give me a baby!"

"Huh?"

"You said that if you stick your penis in my vagina, you could put some sticky seeds in and make a baby," she said. "I want to have my own baby!"

Despite not having recuperated from my climax, I felt my dick twitch. As tempting as the little girl's offer sounded, I knew I couldn't take her up on it.

"I'm sorry, Karen, but we can't do that," I said. "You're too young."

"Why?"

"Well, two things," I explained. "First, you're just too young to have a baby - your body isn't ready for one. And second, I'm afraid that it would hurt a whole lot."

I didn't want to frighten her, so I didn't mention the fact that there was a very real chance that I would cause permanent injury as well.

She scooped up some of the come that was on my stomach and rubbed it into her crotch. "It feels funny!" she laughed as she reached for more.

I was sorely tempted to help the child, but Grace and Therese kept their hawk-eyes on us, and I knew that any deviation from my "no touching" promise would end with a tattle-tale report to at least one mommy and daddy.

"Come on, Karen - we've got to go," said Therese.

"Okay," replied Karen reluctantly. Looking at me, she asked a second time, "Are you going to the fireworks?"

"Yeah, I think I'll stay for the fireworks," I answered. And as it seemed the show was over, I pulled my pants up.

Chapter Two

Dalia, Ben's wife, told me that she had counted at least 72 visitors at the party; roughly half had left by the time it got dark. The park with the fireworks show was only a couple of blocks away, but rather than walk over there, the idea was that everyone could sit on the hill behind the house and watch as the rockets exploded overhead. That way, we could still imbibe as much alcohol as we wished, and the party could last as long as we liked.

I grabbed a Budweiser and sat on the hill and was talking to cousin Dan when Ben came over. "How are you doing, Tony?" he asked. "Oh, this is my brother-in-law, Hank."

We did the usual greetings and small talk, and I mentioned that I was looking forward to the fireworks show since I hadn't seen one years. There were a few firecrackers and sparklers on New Year's Eve, but that couldn't compare to a real pyrotechnic show.

Hank introduced me to his daughter, none other than future mother-to-be: Karen. She was indeed a clever little girl, for she showed no sign of recognition, but an extraordinary interest in my cap, which was covered with pins. We were having an animated discussion about the dozen different national and state parks I had visited over the years (each represented by a colorful pin), when Ben interrupted, laughing, "Looks like you've got an admirer."

"She's a real cutie, isn't she?"

I agreed.

By this time Dan had wandered off, and Ben and Hank ignored Karen and me. They must have figured the relationship was harmless enough, and they didn't react at all when she whispered in my ear.

"Let's pretend we're going to make a baby," she whispered. "I know you said that I can't really have a baby because I'm too little, but we could play."

I shook my head - as much as I'd like to, there was no way that Karen and I could discretely sneak off to Nathalia's room during the middle of the fireworks show. I smiled and told her no, we could not go upstairs to 'play.'

"No, you can do it here!" she insisted. "I'll sit on your lap, and you can make your penis hard and squirt some of that sticky stuff between my legs!"

The first rocket went off with a loud "Boom!"

"Oh!" squealed Karen in fright. In a loud voice she said, "Mr. Ed, I'm scared! Can I sit on your lap so you can hold me?" Before I had a chance to answer, she said, "Daddy, can I sit on Mr. Ed's lap?"

"Why don't you sit on mine instead?" Hank suggested.

"Oh, Daddy!" laughed the child. Hank has a huge beer belly and really doesn't have much of a lap to speak of.

"She's got you there, Hank," said Ben.

Another rocket shot across the sky, not making a particularly loud noise, but filling the sky with red lights. "Oooh!" went the crowd.

"I didn't see it!" complained Karen.

"Go ahead, sit on Tony's lap so you can see the show," Hank relented. He laughed. "Mr. Ed! Where'd she ever get that? Reminds me of that talking horse! Remember that show, Ben?"

"Yeah, Mr. Ed. I liked it."

"Do you remember 'Gentle Ben'?"

"Let's not get into that..." The two men ignored me as they got into a discussion about old TV sit-coms, and the girl got onto my lap. Between the clouds and the lack of a moon, the yard was quite dark when the fireworks dissipated, so I was able to reach under the girl's skirt without anyone's noticing. Amazingly, she wasn't wearing panties; had she planned this since the bedroom? I pulled down my zipper and pushed my raging hard-on between her legs.

Ben asked, "What are you doing, Tony?"

Nervously, I answered, "Just kind of adjusting things here."

"Something popped up when Karen sat on your lap, did it?" he laughed.

"I'm going to get a beer. You want one? How about you, Hank?"

"Yeah, a beer would be nice," I said. "Light."

Hank seemed to be absorbed in conversation with whomever was sitting on his other side, so Karen and I were effectively alone. I slipped my hand under her skirt again so I could diddle her vagina. The skin was so soft and smooth, but her vagina was dry and her labia were pressed tightly together.

We were watching the show for a while, when Karen asked, "When are you going to squirt the seeds?"

Given the right stimulus, I've been known to cream in my jeans, but that wasn't about to happen this time. I saw a rocket shoot up into the air, and suddenly I saw the solution. I grabbed Karen around the waist and raised her slightly as the rocket exploded.

"Be sure to grip my dick firmly with your legs," I whispered in her ear. "I'm going to bounce you every time one of those firecrackers explodes, and then I'll squirt on you, okay? But don't let go, or it won't work."

She laughed but squeezed hard. I slipped out a second time, but after that we were able to adjust to this rather novel form of masturbation. As the grand finale began with a rapid succession of colorful explosions, I was able to pick up the pace, and sure enough I ejaculated as the show was drawing to a close.

"What's with all the laughter over there, Tony?" asked Hank. "What are you doing to my daughter?"

Karen laughed. "Mr. Ed just gave me some sticky seeds!"

"What?" asked her father. "What's she talking about?"

"Nothing, really," I said. "I was just sowing some wild oats."