We kissed long and deep and hard for quite some time, both of us quite obviously very turned on by this latest revelation. The thought that John might have fucked his own daughter, or even just thought about fucking her, turned me on immensely. I recognised his own excitement and could only guess that my assumptions were correct and that he was turned on by my total acceptance of him and his desires. We went at one another like rampant teenagers and for the first time I was rough with his cock, squeezing it mercilessly, pumping my fingers hard up and down his rigid shaft, crushing and twisting the mushroom helmet with delight, digging my fingernails into the rubbery flesh as though trying to mark him, confident I could handle him in whatever way I desired and he wouldn't cum off unexpectedly.

At the same time I ground my cunt against the hard muscles of his thigh with an almost relentless vigour, crushing my clit delightfully against his flesh so my hips juddered and my belly turned somersaults with the sensations coursing through my body.

In turn he was equally as rough with me, mauling my breasts in his powerful fingers and crushing my pelvis against his thigh, thrusting it between my open legs so my clit was ground hard against his deliciously tensed flesh while our tongues writhed like mating snakes in the hot, breathless pit of our mouths.

Finally we broke, gasping for air, passions high.

"God but you really are one dirty little bitch Stella!" he breathed with clear and obvious delight, his words once more a compliment, an accolade, said in appreciation and open joy.

"And you're one filthy bastard, a deliciously filthy bastard!" I panted, mind alight with where we were going, what revelations might be hissed and whispered between us with evil glee in the darkness.

I wanted the whole story from him, every last deliciously sordid detail, but that could wait for another time, a more relaxed time. Right now all I wanted was for us to ride this frantic wave of excitement we were both on, but ride it with real pleasure, control it at least in part. And I wanted to know one thing, one thing only.

"Did you John ... ?" I breathed into his ear, eyes slitted with evil delight ... "did you actually fuck her? Fuck your own daughter?"

For a moment he hesitated but I knew I hadn't gone too far. He had after all brought the topic up and responded delightfully to my teasing suggestion. He wanted to go there as much as I did.

"No Stella. I never fucked her. Never fucked her properly though it got pretty close a couple of times. But I wanted to, god how I wanted to! Is that a disappointment to you? A let down?"

I didn't need to think before replying.

"No, not at all Babe. The mere fact you wanted to fuck her, thought about it, even got close.. that's enough for me John, that's a huge turn on in itself." I hissed into his ear, my words making him twitch with pleasure in my fingers.

"Would it turn you on even more if you knew I had fucked her, fucked her properly?" he rasped, the word 'fucked' spat out with relish.

He'd been open and honest with me, I wanted to be the same with him. What did it matter if he had or hadn't, if it was more of a turn on for me or not? It was the sharing, the understanding that all of this was a turn on for both of that really mattered, the fact the mere thought of it was sexually stimulating and hugely so for both of us.

"Yes John, yes it would turn me on even more. But just the knowledge you enjoyed those thoughts, had those desires .. the fact you can trust me with those facts, share them with me .. the fact that we both get off on such nasty filth ... god but that's such a turn on for me in itself. Truly." I hissed, hand working his cock nice and hard, physical display of my genuine excitement.

For long moments we kissed once more, again hard and demanding and dirty, bodies thrusting against each other in celebration.

As we broke I pressed my nose to his so the tips rubbed together Eskimo style, my hand easing the pressure on his rampant erection, slowing and calming him, becoming gentle once more.

"Easy babe, easy" I crooned. "Lets enjoy this, enjoy it properly. No rush babe, no rush."

His thrusting slowed and eased, his breathing settled, his kissing became gentler, more relaxed, slowly savoured. Finally he chuckled wickedly into my ear.

"Jesus Stella, and there was me thinking I was no longer capable of more than one good orgasm a night. God but you've got me horny again!"

"We've got each other horny!" I corrected with a smile in the darkness and was rewarded with an acknowledging chuckle.

"Can I ask a question?" he breathed, our bodies still gently thrusting.

"Course you can Babe, ask anything you like. No secrets between us, not now."

Again there was a moments hesitation and I knew he was formulating his question. I encouraged with slow strokes to his hot shaft, caressing it now, loving him with my fingers, telling him it was all ok.

"Why ... why would it be better, more exciting for you if you knew I really had fucked her, fucked her properly?" he breathed into my cheek, his words slow, body tense.

Quite a question and I wondered if he realised it. The answer I assumed was obvious, though I understood it may not be so to him. It was easy for me to understand but I knew myself well, knew all my sick little excitements. Perhaps he just wanted to hear me admit it, confess it? Perhaps he suspected what the answer might be but just wanted confirmation? Perhaps he just wanted to hear me say those deliciously filthy words?Whatever, he had asked it and I wanted him to know the truth. I wanted him to know what a sick little bitch I really could be when the mood was on me. I wanted to be that sick little bitch with him. I wanted him to see me, to know me, as I really was. Nothing hidden, nothing held back. No shame, no guilt. Just pleasure. Mutual pleasure.

Pressing my lips to his ear, heart hammering with my own audacity, with what I was about to reveal about myself, stomach churning with nervous excitement and delight, I stroked his cock once more then held the helmet, caressing its girth with my fingers, teasing it, taunting it.

Flicking my tongue out I licked his lobe, wiggled the tip into his shell like flesh, then with wicked relish I hissed my reply.

"It would turn me on more Babe, turn me on more if I knew you really had fucked your own daughter, actually stuck your big cock right into her immature little cunt, because then when you stuck this big, delicious fucker into me I would know I had a real pedo cock in me... a big, dirty, nasty, pedo Daddy cock in my dirty little cunt ... riding me ... and that would drive me fucking crazy ... I'd be being fucked by pedo cock ... real pedo cock ... pedo Daddy cock! Does that answer your question Babe? Does that satisfy your nasty, dirty, curiosity?"

His cock twitched and juddered in my gentle grasp, a gush of hot pre-cum slobber guttering from the open piss slit and slithering over my fingers so they became slimy and slippery on his hot flesh. I grinned to myself with wicked delight. He'd loved it, loved the truth about me!

"Oh fuck Stella! God but that's hot. Just so fucking filthy, so mind blowingly filthy!" he gasped.

"Hmmmmm ...?" I teased. "No filthier than wanting to stick your cock into your own daughters tight little snatch, no filthier than wanting to ride her immature little body, no filthier than wanting to impale her pre-pubescent little cunt on your bloated man hood ...."

With effortless ease he forced me over onto my back and I went eagerly, all but giggling with wicked delight.

For long moments we kissed deeply and passionately, bodies grinding against one another, thrusting and pushing and pumping as we wallowed in new found freedom and filth.

Finally we broke and I could sense his excitement, his arousal, his joy .. could almost feel him smiling with delight.

Again I felt empowered, on a sexual high I never wanted to come down from, liberated in mind but connected with his own.

Pressing my fingers to his lips I stroked his neck, soothing and calming him once more and when I felt him steady, felt his control return, I made the suggestion that had been taking shape in the background of my imagination since he'd made his startling revelation.

"You could fuck your little girl tonight, fuck your daughter .. if you wanted to?"

He stilled above me and I could imagine his brow puckering.

"What do you mean Stella?" he breathed.

I knew he was fully aware of exactly what I meant, I was sure the same deliciously dirty thoughts had crossed his mind already, and I was sure he just wanted me to say the words, be the one to openly suggest once more. That was fine by me. I was in seventh heaven, on a sexual high.

"I'm wearing her perfume. I'm in her bed. My cunt is smooth and hairless .... just like a little girls, just like your daughters would have been ..."

His cock twitched and he gasped with delight, lowering his face to my own once more so our lips brushed.

"Go on .. " he encouraged and I could sense him smiling wickedly, imagine him doing so, just as I was doing myself.

"Mummy's not here. We're all alone in the house. It's all locked up so no one could ever, ever know what we get up to ..."

"Yes ...?" he whispered, and I could hear the delight and wide eyed amusement in his voice.

I put on what I hoped might be a little girl voice .. not a serious one, just a hammed up imitation, a tease, relishing the words, drawing them out in a soft falsetto ....

"And you're in my bed Daddy ... naughty, bad Daddy! And your thing is so big and hard and swollen Daddy ... and my little kitty is all bare and exposed and vulnerable Daddy. Doesn't Daddy want to put his great big thing into his baby's little kitty?"