Angels Toy

By Leslie Schmidt

I couldn't believe that my angel was turning eight! I had missed almost four years of her life after our wonderful summer together in Chicago. Then she had gone back to New Orleans with her mother and then the job in Africa had come up, so I had not been with my little lover for so long. Not that I missed little girl's love, many sad brown eyes of little girls in Africa had turned to smiles for me. But now I was back with my angel and she was here to stay. Her mother had re-married and the fellow who would be Jenny's step father wanted his own family. I had come running back to the States and settled in Texas. Jenny made new friends in her second grade class, and now I was hosting a birthday party to a house full of beautiful little girls (and two boys).

One of the boys made the coup-de-gras that sent the candy tumbling out of the pinata. A dark little sweetheart named Joyce had won "Pin the Tail on the Armadillo" and a little Latin beauty's mother named Donna had smiled at me when she caught me looking down her blouse while she leaned over the table to cut the cake (She didn't make any moves to stop me from seeing her lovely Champaign glass tits with their dark brown nipples. Later, she put her hand on my arm when we were talking and looked at me with an expression which said that I could see a lot more of her some other time).

Later that evening, after all the children had gone, I gave Jenny one last present. It wasn't as big or expensive as the Barbie Power-Wheel, it wasn't as pretty as the jewelry box, but, in its own way, it promised a great deal of fun.

The box was about nine inches long and an inch square. Jenny took the pink wrapping paper off to find a plain white box. She opened the end and pulled out the shiny silver tube, tapered at one end to a dull point. On the other end, a rubber boot covered a push-button switch. I had loaded it with two fresh "C" cells before I wrapped it.

She looked at me with a questioning expression: "What is it, Daddy?"

"You've seen them in some movies, honey."

Comprehension dawned on her face. "Oooohhh...." Then she giggled. "Can I try it?"

I didn't answer; I just started to pull my shirt off over my head. Jenny, who had been wearing a bathing suit, was naked before I was. In the three years, she had lost her baby fat and she was now just a slip. Straight, sturdy legs, slightly knobby knees. Her hip bones stuck out slightly, mainly because her abdomen was so thin. Two parallel ridges ran down her stomach on either side of her vertical oval of a navel. Her chest was completely flat, her nipples pink bumps on her white flesh. Her arms where thin, maybe a little too thin. Her neck was long. She kept her dirty blonde hair short. Where her legs met, she had thin but long pussy lips, the creases made by her vulva were pronounced. Just that morning, I had filled her pussy slit and its two partners with my semen after I had tongued her to a moaning orgasm. The sight of her wondrous preteen body had my cock half stiff before my pants had cleared my feet.

Jenny turned the toy around, inspecting it. Then she pushed the end and was rewarded by a soft buzz. She immediately, still standing, reached down and ran it along her slit. "Oh!" She bent her knees slightly, spreading her legs and pushed the shaft along her pussy. "Mmmmm, that's nice."

My eight-year- old methodically ran the dildo along her slit, pushing the lips apart and directly stimulating her clit. She opened her mouth and gasped for breath, sinking slightly before catching herself. She put her free hand out to steady herself against the table.

"Oh, Daddy," was all she could say.

I reached out and gently grasped her shoulder. "Honey, lay down on the floor." She slowly sank, melting onto the carpet, never stopping the movement of the phallus against her pussy.

By now, my cock was at full attention, sticking up at a slight angle and bouncing with my pounding heart. I knelt down next to her and took the dildo, continuing to move it along her fleshy love furrow. My little goddess was humping to meet the sliding tool, directing my hand with hers.

I started to stroke myself with my free hand, and it was soon joined by hers. Her ardor was building, her skin was becoming flushed and a sheen of perspiration had appeared around her neck and on her forehead. Meanwhile, the sight of my preteen masturbating with the silver appliance, along with our mutual attention to my cock, was making my sperm boil.

Jenny was overcome and she grunted with orgasm. At the last moment, just before I came, I aimed my cock at her face. I shot my load, humping madly. A rope of white cum sprayed across the eight-year-olds face, more landed in her hair. Jenny was twisting the dildo, as well as madly running it long he engorged clit and inner pussy lips as she opened her mouth wide and tried to catch some of my flying sperm. A large wad did land in her mouth as more splashed against her lips and chin.

Jenny lay on the floor, panting. She was still holding the vibrator against her pussy; her face was awash with my jez. I had sat back on my ass, panting. "Daddy, thank you." She was silent for a few moments. Then she again moved the dildo, this time rubbing the tip along her slit and pointing it up. She tentatively pushed it at the opening to her vagina, then stopped.

"You may pop your cherry if you push it in you, honey. It's pretty big for you," I said.

Again she gently pushed it but hissed slightly, then stopped.

Later that night, I was sitting up drinking a beer and watching the late news when I heard Jenny whimpering behind me.

"Daddy, I'm bleeding," she said through a sob. (I had put her to bed an hour earlier.)

I turned around and caught my breath. Jenny was naked. In one hand she had the vibrator, smeared with blood, her other hand was also dyed red and her crotch and inner thighs were also bloody.

"Oh, honey. It's alright. I told you that would happen."

I picked my little girl up and carried her into the bathroom. I gently washed her hands and crotch, and then rinsed her virgin blood off the dildo.

"You've stopped bleeding, but you may be sore tomorrow, I wouldn't try doing that again for a couple of days."

"Will it make me bleed again?"

"No, just this first time."