Miranda, Female, 24 (current), 9 (flashbacks)

	- Narrator, daughter of Angela and Dan

	- 5'7, beige skin, 125lbs, curly dark red-brown hair over shoulders

Dr. Martin Green, Male, late-40s

	- Sex therapist, husband of Auburn

	- 5'8, ruddy beige skin, 150lbs, short brown hair with grey streaks

Dr. Auburn Green, Female, late-40s

	- Psychologist, wife of Martin

	- 5'10, light-olive skin, 140lbs, shoulder-length auburn hair

Angela, Female, early-30s (flashbacks)

	- Mother of Miranda, wife of Dan

	- 5'7, beige skin, 140obs, dark-red brown hair over shoulders

Dan, Male, early-30s (flashbacks)

	- Father of Miranda, husband of Angela

	- 5'11, tanned beige skin, 175lbs, cropped dirty-blonde hair

I was actually nervous as I fidgeted in the waiting room for Dr. Green to open his door and greet me. My only contact with Auburn was a one-way letter she'd sent me some weeks earlier, and though my initial impression of her was positive, I had little to go on. I wondered what she'd look like, if her hair would match her name, if she would ask me questions I wasn't really ready to answer. I wondered if she'd like me. I felt like a teenager again, and while part of me worried about our initial encounter, a larger piece was enjoying the anticipation.

Six o'clock arrived and the door didn't open. Six-o-five, then six-ten. I knew it was likely that Dr. Green had a session with another client scheduled at five and it was possible they'd just run over, as I had done with him a few times. There was an exit door in his office so that clients could leave privately without going back through the waiting room. I wouldn't know they were done until the main door opened and Dr. Green stepped through.

Six-fifteen was when I heard the handle turn and I saw the man's smile. “Miranda, please, come in.”

I rose and he followed me through the door.

“I apologize for the delay, I had to finish something before our session. Please. Sit down. My wife will be here any moment.”

I did as he asked and Dr. Green seated himself in his usual spot. The door to the hallway opened, the one which accessed the private exit and the bathroom, and a woman stepped in. She was tall and slender, wearing a black, professional-looking one-piece skirt with thick black stockings and heels. Her hair, indeed, was a beautiful auburn color. Her face had hints of Lebanese or Israeli descent, her cheekbones strong and her mascara lightly-utilized. Her dark-brown eyes reinforced the smile on her face.

“Ah, yes. Miranda, this is my wife, Dr. Auburn Green. Love, this is Miranda.”

I rose and Auburn met me with her hand outstretched. She shook mine and said, “Lovely to finally meet you, Miranda. I've heard so much about you that it seemed a shame to not have the pleasure of seeing you in the flesh. So to speak, of course. How are you?”

Her greeting settled my nerves and made me feel at ease. I returned her smile, “Fine, really. Doing quite well these days. Thanks in large part to your husband.”

Dr. Green, Martin, shrugged and said, “I do what I can. I'm not sure I've done anything but listen so far, but I expect I'll be able to help you when you are ready. With my wife's assistance, of course. She's a psychologist. Don't know if I mentioned that before.”

“No,” I replied, “but I suppose that makes sense.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Martin said, “Miranda, I wonder if you would be open to my wife sitting in for this session. Say 'no' if you have any hesitation. I think it might be good for her to hear your experiences from you directly.”

I thought a moment, measuring my emotions. I found it mattered little in that moment, so I shrugged and said, “sure, why not?”

“Great. Well,” Martin said, waving his hand towards my chair, “shall we begin?”

I sat and he did the same. Auburn leaned back on the couch along the wall and slid one leg over the other. She did it, as she wore her tight skirt, very professionally.

“So when we left off, you had just described your birthday. I've filled my wife in on the events to that point.” Martin inclined his head. “Where are we off to today?”

“I think I should skip ahead a little this time,” I suggested, “the next moment I think is important was several months later.”

“Whenever you are ready, Miranda.”

- - -

It became regular and normal for the three of us to share intimacy, and it wasn't just at night. Sometimes we made love in the morning before I was off to school, Dad often filling my vagina with his seed before wiping away his fluids and ensuring no large trace of our coupling would seep into my panties during the day. I secretly tried to hold back the rushing semen, wishing I could keep that special part of Dad in my most private place, but my vagina was not long and he was careful to use his finger, gently, to remove what was left inside.

Other times, we spent Saturdays or Sundays in bed, barely leaving it to pee or eat. I loved those days the most. Mom and Dad taught me new positions, new ways of pleasing each other. I think it rejuvenated their love for each other to have me included. Not that they weren't in a special, loving marriage before, but I know it added something to have them share the bed with me. I loved to lick Mom's pussy and using my lips to make Dad ejaculate into my mouth. I loved it when Mom lapped up Dad's semen where he had just left it inside me. I loved touching and being touched, licking and being licked, and my favorite had become lying on the bed on my back, my butt on a pillow, my legs spread wide and wrapped around Dad's waist as he pumped into me, Mom kissing and hugging me close to her.

I got to where my I was able to take more of Dad's penis inside my body. I didn't really notice it for some time. Dad was careful, never thrusting hard into me, ensuring that I was able to enjoy what we were doing without too much pain. I came to enjoy the discomfort from his dick stretching me wider. It wasn't really pain compared to when I broke a finger at fourteen, and nothing like the numerous cuts and twists and other injuries I got over the years. And Dad slowly, slowly, got to where he could sink deeper into my vagina.

I didn't really know what it meant for him to hit my cervix, but that was a different kind of pressure, slightly uncomfortable, that I quickly grew to love and which made my orgasms even more intense. Dad would push as deep as possible, eventually, and often hold still, his penis pressed against my cervix, while Mom rubbed my clit and I rolled my hips until I came. I cannot imagine having a more intense sensation than that one. Dad's penis was perhaps no more than three inches in me at that point, half of his shaft still outside my body, but it rarely took much more to make him shoot his seed against my cervix and flood my channel with his potent semen.

My parents began to worry about pregnancy, and rightly so. That prompted a meeting with Dr. Schneider who agreed to prescribe me birth control pills to regulate my flow. I think Mom made up some details of my menstruation and 'symptoms' which prompted the doctor to move forward with such a plan. None of us told Dr. Schneider about my sexual activities, and as yet, she hadn't given me an exam which might detect the way my vagina was slowly being stretched from Dad's penis.

Dad told me later that he secretly enjoyed those early months, that the fantasy of impregnating me played in his mind often as he orgasmed inside me. He was relieved, of course, when his seed didn't find an egg, and he knew we were playing with fire for far too long. Still, it was a fantasy that I knew turned him on, though I would only understand that fetish much, much later in my development.

It may be my biases in play, but other than what happened in my parents' bedroom, I had an otherwise very normal childhood. I did well in classes, acted in our school plays, and played volleyball as I'd done since I was six. I had sleepovers with Maggie and some of my other friends, and to the outside world, there was nothing terrible odd about me as far as I know.

So months went by and I learned more about sex from my parents. I learned to ride Dad, loved it when he slid into my hole after he was in Mom. I enjoyed eating his semen from her vagina whenever he ejaculated there. Both Dad and Mom sometimes woke me up with soft kisses on my breasts, which were slowly growing larger. Still small, to be sure, but they went from the size of a thimble to perhaps a shot glass over that time.

I didn't always sleep between Mom and Dad. Often, I was on one side or the other, and it was one of those nights that I was taught something new.

I woke to the sound of moaning. I was beside Mom and when I opened my eyes, there was just enough light coming through the window blinds to tell she was facing me. She was moving slowly, her breathing quickened. I knew she and Dad were making love in the middle of the night.

I just watched for a while as the rutted. I loved seeing my mom get and give pleasure. I was close enough to her face to feel her breath on my cheek and it made me smile. She moaned again then turned her head behind her slightly and whispered, “I feel you cumming in my ass, Dan. . . mmm. . . fill my ass. . . mmm. . . ”

They grew still and it was only a moment later, when Mom shifted slightly and the covers moved a bit that a smell I didn't quite identify hit my nose. I inhaled again. It was almost like someone had passed gas, but it was richer, more pleasant. I can't really describe it but it wasn't gross or disgusting to me.

I was sleepy and with no one moving or moaning, I drifted back to sleep.

In the morning, I asked Mom about what she'd said. “Mommy, what did you mean when you told Daddy to fill your, um, ass?” I wasn't exactly supposed to use that term lightly. I knew butt. I knew anus, even, and though, like most nine-year olds, I knew what ass meant, I had no concept of how one might cum in one.

Dad had already left for work as we ate breakfast and Mom swallowed a bite of eggs and answered me. “Well, that's another way for lovers to enjoy each other. You know how you take Daddy inside your vagina?”

I nodded. Of course I knew that. It was one of my very favorite things in the world.

“You have another hole near there, too.”

“My anus,” I said proudly, using the term they'd taught me.

“That's right. Well, your father likes to put his penis in my anus sometimes, especially in the middle of the night. He wakes me up by sliding into me. I just love it. And then we make love like normal, except his penis is in my other hole, and when he's ready, he ejaculates inside my ass. It's okay to say ass when its just us and you want to describe it like this.”

“Ass,” I repeated, just because I could, and I grinned as I did. “Okay. . . isn't that nasty?” I asked, wrinkling my nose, “that's where the poop comes out.”

Mom nodded, smiling, “true, it does. Sometimes. . . well, yes, sometimes it gets a bit messy, but that's just part of taking a penis in your butt. Sometimes there's a little poop, but. . . I like it when your Daddy puts it in there.”

I thought about it hard for a minute, squeezing my anus to test if I thought Dad could put his penis in that hole. “Can I try it?”

Mom looked at me a moment, then shook her head. “No. I mean, not tonight if that's what you're asking. Your anus is so tiny that you'll need to work up to it. If you do it too quickly, before you are used to what it feels like, it can really hurt. I've had a time or two when a man put it there without lubrication, and let me tell you—”

“You let other boys than Daddy put it in your butt?” I was horrified at the thought. I'd never considered that Mom had ever been with any man but my dad.

“Easy, Miranda. This was before your father and I started dating. Since then, the only man I've been with is your father.”

“Oh.” I said, only partially mollified, uncertain how I felt about Mom's butt having a penis other than Dad's inside it. “I still wanna try it. How do I, um, 'work up to it'?”

Mom finished her breakfast and looked up at the clock on the wall. “Tell you what, your father won't be home until very late. Once you get home from school, take care of your homework straightaway, and we'll see what we can do to start working up to it. Sound like a deal, Honey?”

I grinned. “A deal!”

I was excited all day at school, barely paying attention. So many new experiences had happened over the past few months that I was sure there would be nothing terribly new left. We'd made love together on their bed, the couch, in the kitchen and even once or twice, on my bed. I'd take Dad's cock in so many positions I lost count. I'd licked and fingered Mom in just as many, and yet, all that time we had never so much as talked about putting things in my butt. I'm sure I noticed a tongue or finger move over my anus at times, but it was all part of someone licking my sensitive private flesh, and never registered as a different sort of opportunity.

My panties were soaked by the time I came home, and as promised, I went straight to my room to race through my homework.

Done with that chore, I rushed into Mom's office to find her on the phone. I fidgeted and waited as best I could, never my most competent skill, and was relieved when she finally called for me to come inside.

“Go straight to the bathroom and move your bowels if you need to do so. We'll start there. Then I want you to take a bath and be sure you wash your anus with soap. When you're ready, meet me in the bedroom.”

I think my creamy panties hit the bathroom floor before she'd finished her instructions. I strained and strained but nothing came out but a small fart or two, so I eventually gave up and ran hot bathwater, soon soaking inside. I remembered Mom's words, kneeling in the bath to carefully run a soapy washcloth through my crack. I even sniffed the fabric after the last wipe to be sure it smelled okay. I could detect nothing but soap, so I dried quickly and raced into the bedroom to find Mom already there, naked and bent over the edge of the bed, her legs spread wide and her ass prominently displayed.

“First,” she told me, “I want you to get familiar with what's down there. Now, like you, my anus is pretty small. Not as small as yours now, but once it was, and that's why I'm so aware of how much you need to prepare yourself. Not much beyond your age, I started touching myself there and sometimes like to use a mirror to look at it. Have you done that, Miranda?”

“No,” I shook my head, “I mean, I've looked at it sometimes, but I never thought to put anything in it.”

“No worries. Get in close and take a look at mine, will you? I'll explain what you are seeing and feeling.”

I was so excited that I started to idly twirl my clit as I leaned to within a couple of inches of Mom's butt. Her dark, wrinkled hole was surrounded by a quarter-sized dark-brown patch, and around that a more modest brown flesh. Dark hairs were more sparse than around her vulva, but light fur was still present. The hole itself was not so much a hole as a spot where a hole might be if Mom decided to push out.

“Now, you can see my labia below at this angle, and just inside is my vagina.” I knew all this, of course, but it was new to have Mom using those words while showing me her genitals close up. “Where the labia come together with the flesh that leads to my vagina, near the top. Put your finger there, Miranda.”

I placed my finger at the point of the upside-down V formed by her slit and held it there.

“Good, now just above that, below where you see my anus, is a bit of flesh called the perineum. You don't need to worry about remembering that. Some people call it 'taint' and other such words, but it is called the perineum. In some women, there are a couple of inches between vulva and anus. As you can see, I have an inch or so. Pretty average. The distance for you is about the same as mine, so I'd expect that to stay that way as you mature.”

I was fascinated. If school had been this interesting, I'd have been top of my class.

“Now, you can see that my anus is tightly closed, but unlike yours, I've taken penetration there, so watch as I push out a bit.” Mom's anus became a ring which bulged out slightly from her crack. There still wasn't a hole, but I could see the ring unfolding where it should be.

Her anus relaxed and she told me, “Now, wet your finger in my pussy. Get it good and wet.” I slid my index finger into Mom's vagina and found her cream inside. My digit was quickly coated. “Spread it around my anus a bit, then I want you to push gently on my hole.”

I did as she asked, the sensation not what I expected. Her dark-brown anus was more firm than it looked, and yet, as soon as I started to push, it yielded slightly.

“A little more.”

I slid my finger up to the knuckle without meaning to. “Sorry!” I said, about to pull back.

“No! That's good. See how easily I took that? That comes with practice and preparation. You can push deeper. I can take it.”

My finger was all the way up Mom's ass in seconds.

“Mmm. . . I love feeling you inside me, Miranda. What does it feel like to you?”

I moved my finger a bit, the squishy, wet insides of her bowels so different than anything I'd touched before. Perhaps it had a velvety quality that was somewhat like the insides of my vagina, but that's where the similarity ended. The folds and ribbing and the seemingly endless depth was fascinating to me, and I fingered Mom's butt for some time, enjoying the way she let me probe her while she moaned lightly.

“Okay,” she said after a few minutes, “I'm getting really turned on, Miranda. We should move on before we get too off track.” She wiggled her hips and I withdrew my finger. “Now, I'd like you to lick me there. Just like you do my vulva.”

I'd licked Mom's pussy many times and loved it, and the idea of doing the same to her anus excited me. I knew that was where her poop came out, but I didn't care and didn't think about that at all. What I knew was that Mom's vagina was leaking the thin, whitish-cream I loved so much, and if she wanted me to lick her other special place, I was more than willing to do so.

My tongue slid over her tight, puckered hole and, at first, I tasted nothing very different from the other lovely flesh between Mom's legs. Because I'd used her vaginal juices to lubricate her, I tasted that pungent, salty flavor on her anus. Then, I started to detect a hint of something very different. Just an edge of bittersweet was there, and I wasn't disgusted at all. I lapped all over her anus as Mom started to wiggle.

“Now,” she said, breathing heavier, “push your tongue inside me and lick into my anus.”

I did as she instructed and Mom's hole yielded slightly, letting my tongue taste just inside. I came to learn the word 'rimming' at some point that day. Perhaps it was in that moment, but I was sort of caught up in what I was doing, and Mom was clearly enjoying it, too.

This went on for a couple of minutes before Mom signaled a pause and stood up.

“Alright,” she let out a long breath and smiled at me, then pulled me to her and leaned down to kiss my lips, “my turn.”

I did as she instructed, bending over the bed as she had and spreading my legs slightly. The ceiling fan moved cool air down over my privates and I shivered. Mom's hands soon caressed my buttocks, and her tongue was quickly moving over my labia. I knew I was dripping with excitement, and in no time, I came hard as she licked me there.

“Just like your Mom, Miranda. Always a quick one.” She pulled back a bit and said, “I'm going to do to you what you just did to me, then we'll see how tight you are at this point.”

I felt Mom's finger on my anus and I jumped slightly. It was a very different sensation than I'd expected. I recalled a moment or two with Dr. Schneider where she had, during one of those examinations, slipped her finger into my anus, but there had been nothing sexual about that. In fact, the doctor's office made me rather nervous, and I was probably just gritting my teeth and hoping her exam would end quickly.

This time, with Mom circling my anus and gently probing against the closed, puckered hole, I had an excitement that wasn't there with Dr. Schneider, an anticipation of some new delight I didn't yet know.

I have to admit that the first push of Mom's finger into my butt was not much fun. My anus opened and she slipped inside, but for all my efforts to enjoy the slow movements in my butt, all I could think about was that I really needed to poop. I told her so. “I need to poo,” I said.

“Relax, Miranda, that's just the sensation you get from my finger,” Mom told me, holding still inside my anus, “remember, if you ever want to take your father there, you'll have to learn how to accommodate him without thinking you are going to poop on him.”

I really wanted to let Dad put it in my butt the way Mom had, so I gritted my teeth and replied, “I know. . . I'm trying.”

“I'll go easy, just try to relax, the poop sensation will slowly pass.” I felt her finger probing me again and I did my best to ignore the instinct which suggested I should empty my bowels.

I'm not sure how long Mom worked her finger in and out of my butt. At some point, she said, “your anus is very, very tight, Honey. This will take more than a day or two of practice, I think.”

I was slowly growing used to the sensation, no longer on the verge of pushing out and trying to poop. But it wasn't the most pleasant of moments, either.

After what seemed like an hour, though certainly less, Mom pulled her finger out of my butt, replacing it with her tongue. I liked that sensation a lot more. It felt lovely when her tongue passed over my slightly-sore anus and sometimes dipped down over my slit. She made me orgasm again and from the way she moaned as she licked me, I was pretty sure she fingered herself to one, as well.

Mom told me that our session was over and I turned around to sit on the edge of the bed. As she moved over to her night table, she eyed me and said, “When you've had your ass played with, don't sit on the bed, Honey. Sometimes. . . things get a bit messy, and we don't want to have to wash the blankets if we don't have to.”

I suppose I kind of understood what she meant, but I didn't really connect it with the messy aspects of anal sex. I rose and stood, shivering slightly as I grew chilled. Mom opened a drawer and pulled out a small plastic device, no more than four inches long, thin and tapered at one end. “This,” she told me as she pushed it into my hand, “is a vibrator. Women, and some men, use them to aid in masturbation. I want you to practice opening your anus with this. Use your finger first, though. And, just opening, Miranda, don't get too crazy trying to push it up inside you. Once you start to get used to what it feels like, you'll relax and be able to take a finger, and eventually, your father, inside you. Here,” she said, grabbing a small bottle from the dresser top, “be sure you always use this. It's lubrication. Slather it onto the vibrator and onto your anus before you try it.”

I grew excited. I had homework, of sorts, and it involved preparing a special part of my body for the day I could give Dad a very private treat. I giggled and Mom hugged me. She said, “want this to be our secret for now? Maybe, when you are ready to try it for real with your Daddy, we surprise him?”

I nodded enthusiastically.

When Dad got home a few hours later, it was all I could do not to tell him about what I'd learned that day. Instead, I was riding his penis before he'd even had time to remove his pants. I imagined what it might be like to be in that same position with Dad's cock in my other hole. Would he enjoy it more? Would he fill my ass, as he had Mom's? I didn't really know, but I came hard on him before Mom took a turn and Dad emptied his seed into her vagina.

- - -

If Martin was barely able to conceal his arousal at listening to my story, his wife was the opposite. She had a poker face that was utterly unreadable. She leaned casually against the arm of the couch, her legs folded neatly under and to her side. Her tight black dress had somehow, still, managed to look professional even as her subtle curves were quite obvious and attractive.

“Should I continue?” I asked, having paused to let Martin collect himself. Toward the end of my story, I'd got the impression that he was struggling with his arousal, and I honestly thought he was going to masturbate any second to get some relief.

“May I ask you a question, Miranda?” Auburn said gently, “off topic and likely out of order, but I'm curious about something.”

“Certainly,” I responded.

“Have you known other lovers? Anyone other than your parents?”

“Several, yes.”

“While they were alive or over the last year. . . ?”

“Both.”

“Ah,” Auburn responded, giving away no sign of her thoughts about my answers. “I was curious, that's all. I expect you'll talk about that at some point?”

“I will. Before too long, actually. But first—”

Martin broke in, “First, you need to tell us about the new way you learned to be with your father.” It was obvious the man was practically creaming his pants at the thought of me taking Dad's penis in my ass, and I smiled to know how much he was enjoying what I had to say. I just wish I could have read Auburn's reaction so easily.

“Right.” I shifted in my seat. “It took almost a month, far longer than I'd hoped, but I was really small there, and I had to practice with the vibrator a lot to get over that initial urge to relieve myself. Mom checked on me almost daily, helping me use the vibrator and seeing how deep it could go, how far my anus might stretch to take it. Slowly, I built up a tolerance to the discomfort and even started to enjoy it.”

“Did you use the vibrator on your Mom?” Martin's curiosity was getting the better of him. I saw Auburn's eyes narrow ever-so-slightly, and when Martin saw that, he quickly added, “Sorry, I should let you tell your story as you wish.”

I smiled, “No worries, Martin. Yes I did, actually. It was great fun. But I've got one more thing I think needs telling in detail tonight.”

- - -

It was my Dad's birthday. Perhaps that was coincidence, or perhaps I'd been unconsciously trying to be ready by that day, but Mom essentially cleared me that morning, and I was so excited that I begged her to let me skip school that day. She refused, and I fidgeted through my classes, barely able to contain myself. I even slipped into the bathroom several times to bend over the toilet and slip the vibrator into my butt. I'd snuck the small plastic device in my backpack. I doubt Mom would have been very happy to know I'd done so, but I wanted to be sure I was ready to take Dad there that night.

He came home on time and Mom whispered to him as he sat down his briefcase. I saw a knowing smile spread across his face, then he looked at me and said, “a surprise birthday gift from my Princess. I can't wait, but I do want to shower first, if you please.”

I giggled and tried hard to avoid blurting out what I had been practicing for him. I'd already been on the toilet three times since I came home, emptying myself as best I could, and two baths latter, I was as clean as I could be.

While Dad showered, Mom ushered me into the bedroom and we shed our clothes quickly. “Nervous, Honey?” she asked.

“I little.”

“But you still want to try tonight?”

“More than ever!” I meant it, too.

“Let's get you worked up a bit. Your father will be out here shortly. You know what to do.”

I did. We'd 'practiced' many times over the previous weeks, and I assumed the position, bent over the edge of the bed. Mom's tongue and fingers were soon penetrating my holes, my anus much more used to being entered than in the beginning. The initial sensation of needing to empty my bowels had gone from a discomfort to an erotic prelude to the deeper penetration to come. Mom's finger went deep, spreading lots of lube inside me, and soon, I was dilated and slick enough for her to move more quickly, her hand adding a slight twist with each plunge into my depths.

We heard the shower shut off and Mom said to me quietly, “ready?”

I giggled and nodded.

“I'll get your father. Stay there.”

That minute or so seemed to take forever. I waited, bent over the bed, my body vulnerable and open, nervous excitement racing around my mind, butterflies in my stomach. I tried to imagine what Dad would see as he opened the bathroom door. My ass would be facing him, and the delights between my legs would be right there for him to enjoy.

The door finally opened, and I heard Mom say, “Miranda's gift is right there, and she's going to point to where she wants to take you.”

That was my cue. I brought my hand back to open my buttocks, making it clear that I was showcasing my anus. “Put it in my butt, Daddy.”

I'd planned that moment for weeks, knowing my dad would be so eager to plunge into my tightest hole. Even the words I spoke had been tested over and over as I watched myself in the mirror. I was tingling and shaking lightly when I felt Dad's strong hands on my buttocks.

“Oh, Miranda, are you sure?”

I replied, “we've been practicing. I'm ready, Daddy.”

“Go easy, Dan,” Mom said quietly, “we have practiced, yes, but she's very small there.”

“I'll be very gentle,” Dad said. I could hear the grin in his tone.

I felt hot breath on my slit a second before Dad's tongue slid from my clit to my anus. Up and down he licked my holes, and I was writhing in pleasure in no time. I almost forgot what I we were about to do as I climaxed on Dad's tongue.

I washed with euphoria and my legs felt a bit weak. Dad's penis sank into my vagina suddenly and I cried out in pleasure. He stuck my cervix and the pressure added to the amazing sensation. As he stroked himself in and out of my tight, slick vagina, Dad started touching my anus, soon pressing a finger inside. I gasped but remembered my practice, relaxing and letting the penetration spread me open without giving in to the natural reaction which made me want to push out.

Dad's penis swelled in my vagina and I wondered if he would ejaculate before he even got to put it in my butt. He pulled out suddenly and immediately I felt heat and pressure against my anus. I groaned as Dad's penis made my tightest hole yield slowly. It felt so much bigger than a finger or the vibrator. I know it wasn't really that Dad's cock was much thicker, but I was nervous and it made it hard to relax fully and accept the penetration.

“Oh, Princess,” Dad said behind me, “oh, Miranda. . . ”

I couldn't tell how deep he had penetrated my ass. My anus felt raw and there was a ring of pressure which was uncomfortable, my hole burning slightly. He could have been all the way in or it might have been just the tip for all I knew. I really didn't know. I bit my lip to avoid showing the pain. Even with all my practice, it was more difficult than I'd expected.

“Easy, Dan. Don't go deeper. She's struggling.” Mom's voice caused Dad to stop moving, and the pain eased off immediately. I still felt the pressure, the stretching, burning sensation only somewhat subsiding. “You almost got the tip all the way in, let her get used to it.” Even though I didn't know how deep Dad had gone, it surprised me that I'd yet to get his whole head inside. It felt like I was stretched as far as I could go.

“Are you okay, Miranda? Want me to stop?”

Shaking my head, I gritted my teeth and said, “just go slow, Daddy.”

Then Dad's hands began to slowly massage my buttocks. His penis stayed just barely lodged inside my butthole, but his hands made me relax, the warmth of his fingers caressing my tense muscles. I found myself relaxing further when Mom slid onto the bed and brought her face to mine, kissing my lips. She wrapped arms around me and held me close.

That did the trick. I felt myself release the bound up tension, and my anus stopped trying to prevent the penetration. Though he didn't move, his penis slipped and I gasped when I felt the head pop inside suddenly. It didn't hurt, though, and I instinctively pushed back against him, taking another inch into my butt and feeling the burn as my butthole stretched even further.

I could tell Dad was trying not to move, to let me decide how things went, but like me, he was very excited. “Oh, Miranda. . . I can't hold back. . . gonna cum. . . ”

My hips moved on their own, pushing back again. Dad's penis slipped deeper and I let out a long growl through clenched teeth. He tensed and his penis throbbed, making me groan again. It pulsed again, and again, my anus a burning ring around his penetration.

I didn't feel the semen firing into my bowels, but I knew Dad was cumming by the sounds he made and the way his body jerked, the way his penis jumped in my butt. I loved to make Dad orgasm with my body, and I forgot the discomfort as he emptied his seed into my bowels.

- - -

“That was obviously not the last time I had anal sex with Dad,” I told my listeners. “It got much better for me pretty quickly as I kept practicing. It felt weird afterwards the first couple of times, going to the bathroom and pushing the squishy semen out of my ass, but I loved it when Dad ejaculated inside me, wherever he decided to do it, and I soon loved anal sex as much as everything else we did. It was the first of many new sorts of experiences which would be added to our intimate relationship over the years.”

I caught Auburn with her eyes closed, and for just a few seconds, I could see that she was trying to picture the scene I'd just described. Then she looked at me and the professional expression was back in place. “Fascinating. . . ” was all she said.

I glanced at the clock. It was almost eight-thirty.

“Well,” Martin said, pausing to clear his throat, “that was some vivid imagery, Miranda.” He glanced at his wife.

August leaned forward and said, “thank you for sharing that with me. I believe it helps to hear your words from your own lips. My husband has conveyed your sessions effectively, but there is no replacement for hearing it from the client.”

“My pleasure,” I offered. “Would you like to attend the next session to listen further?” I inquired.

She nodded. “Yes. I would like that very much.” Auburn couldn't quite hide the light pink color from her cheeks. “I think perhaps we should break for the night. My husband appears to be getting. . . tired.”

I knew she meant he was overly-excited and was doing his best not to show it. I said my goodbyes and was certain the two of them had sex moments after I left. I almost hung around to try to listen through the door the way I had so long ago outside my parents' bedroom. Instead, I headed home and masturbated to three intense orgasms of my own.