Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted 2009 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless otherwise explicitly granted. You are free to distribute this story to other venues, providing that you retain the author's name, this notice of copyright, and a link to the original page where you found it. You are NOT free to sell or use this story in any venue which charges any fees to readers without the express written consent of the author.
The Standard Legal Stuff Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, sex between minors and adults, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text.
Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my story editor & sometime web page designer. A better editor I could never find. One day there is going to be a very, very lucky lady who manages to snatch you up. If I weren't already married, you'd be dead in my sights. I hope you enjoy this little fantasy that I've created for you.
Sweet, Sweet Amy ~ Chapter VI ~ Steve
Story Codes: M/g, Incest, Romantic, ConsensualPosted: 5 July 2009
When I woke that morning, following my night of complete indiscretion with my niece turned daughter, I was alone on the couch. As consciousness returned to me, I found my mind slowly being flooded with the memory of what I had done the night before. A flood of guilt and shame washed over me - I had molested my little girl. Not my biological daughter, but what difference did that make? She was my dead sister's daughter. I had been entrusted with her care, I loved her deeply, and I had taken advantage of her while she slept next to me. I had never felt such guilt before, and I didn't ever want to feel it again.
When I realized I was alone, I felt a stab of fear. What if Amy had discovered what I'd done? The previous night was a fog to me, and at the moment, I had a piss hard on that was sticking out of the fly of my pajama bottoms. I couldn't remember - had I straightened up after I'd molested her? I became aware of the sound from the television, and it was then, as I was trying to shove my swollen cock back into my pajamas, that I noticed Amy, sitting on the floor with her back to me, watching cartoons and eating a bowl of cereal.
I told her, "Good morning," and asked her if she'd slept okay as I stood to head for the bathroom, and she turned and looked at me and said that she had, and then she looked back to the television and her cartoons.
She seemed fine. She was her usual self, except for a slight flush when she looked up at me, which I guiltily dismissed as being just my imagination. When I reminded her about our shopping trip that day, it was almost like she was ready to go in her pajamas, sort of "as is," but I told her I needed a shower, and she did too, and we had plenty of time. While she finished her breakfast, I showered and dressed. By the time I came downstairs again, Amy had finished eating and rinsing her dishes, and while I started to make something for myself, she headed upstairs to get ready to go. She was flushed with excitement, I suppose because she knew she was going to get to pick out all kinds of clothes that day.
Our shopping trip was uneventful, if rather hectic and tiring. The energy level of a ten-year-old girl on a shopping mission is just mind boggling. I don't usually have a lot of patience for spending a whole day shopping like that, but she was happy, and having such a good time, that I made myself just enjoy being with her. I actually managed to capture some of her enthusiasm, and I had fun picking things out with her.
The only part of the trip that might have given me pause came when she wanted to get some things from Victoria's Secret. We had pretty much covered everything she needed, except underwear. I had no idea how to shop for training bras for her, and frankly, after what I'd done, I was a little uncomfortable thinking about her panties. Still, I let myself be dragged into Victoria's Secret, where I was told by a very attractive sales girl that the store did indeed have items that would be both appropriate and would fit Amy.
I must have looked extremely uncomfortable, because she smiled at me, and took Amy's hand, telling me, basically, to get lost for a half hour while she helped her with getting some things together. I smiled at her gratefully, and she winked at me over Amy's head as she led her away. I glanced at her name tag. Marissa, I thought, What a lovely name. I ogled her nicely formed ass as she and Amy headed into the back of the store.
When I returned a while later, everything was scanned in and bagged. I gave Marissa my credit card, she swiped it, and Amy started out the door. She was hungry, and ready for our "dinner date." I signed for the purchase, and as Marissa handed the card back to me, her fingers lingered on mine for a few seconds longer than necessary.
"Feel free to come anytime, if you need anything else," she said quietly.
"Thanks," I said, as I began to fold the receipt. Then I noticed a phone number written on the back, and I looked up at her. She gave me one of those smiles that every female on the planet knows how to give.
"Call me if you'd like," she said, holding my eyes.
I grinned at her. "I will," I replied.
I left the store and followed Amy out to the mall. We went to the car, and loaded her final purchases in the trunk with everything else we'd bought that day. I'd spent what seemed like a small fortune, but then, I figured it was worth it. I hadn't seen Amy this happy and excited about anything since Heather had died. Seeing her with that bright smile on her face all day, watching her just being a female as she shopped for clothes, was worth all the money I had or ever would have.
We had dinner at a Japanese steak house because Amy wanted to go to a "grown up restaurant." She also wanted to see a grown up movie after dinner, so I took her to see "Cold Mountain." After the movie, though, I made a mistake as we were talking about it
"So," I said, "did you like the movie, Princess?"
Amy thought for a moment, then said, "Yes. It was really interesting to see how people survived during the Civil War, and I'll remember that stuff for school when we talk about it. But the best part was how they put those little stories in with the big story of how Inman and Ada stayed so in love all that time, even though they were apart."
She fell silent for a moment, then said quietly, "That's the kind of love I want someday."
I smiled. "You already have that kind of love, Princess. I'll love you forever and ever, you know that."
She blushed furiously, and punched my arm. "You know what I mean, Daddy!"
I feigned shock. "What? I can't love you that much? You know I'd gladly die for you, just like Inman died for Ada."
As soon as the words were out, I knew that it was completely the wrong thing to say. She fell silent, and stayed pensive for a few moments. I wasn't sure what to say, so I kept my mouth shut for now. I'd already said too much.
"Daddy," she said softly, "don't you ever say that again, please? Not ever. I don't think I could stand it if someone else I love dies."
I reached over and ran my hand down the back of her head, stroking her hair.
"I'm sorry, Baby. That was a stupid thing for me to say. I promise, I'll never say anything like that again. I just wanted you to know how much I really love you."
"I know," she said. "But I just don't like to think about you dying."
We were at a red light, so I reached over and turned her head to face me.
"Hey," I said. "I'm not going to die on you, and I'm not going anywhere, you understand me? You, young lady, are stuck with me whether you like it or not. Get used to it, and get used to the fact that I love you with my whole heart and soul."
I watched her blush deeply again, then smile at me. She quickly slid over and hugged my neck. "I love you, too, Daddy. Tons and tons, forever and ever." Then she kissed my cheek, and slid back to her side, buckling her seat belt again as the light turned green.
When we got home and unloaded the car, I could tell that Amy was exhausted, even though she tried to cover it up. I told her we could put her new things away tomorrow, and that she should get herself ready for bed. School didn't start until Thursday, so she still had three days to get everything ready. When she didn't protest going to bed, I knew she was tired because normally she'd pester me to stay up later.
After I'd tucked her in, I went downstairs for a drink, and to watch a little bit of the news. My mind started to drift, and I found myself reliving moments from earlier in the day. I suppose that I had made myself not be consciously aware of what I was looking at while we were in the mall or at dinner while it was happening, but now my mind wouldn't let me block the thoughts out.
The look of her perfectly sculpted little ass when she modeled those sexy black leather pants for me. The incongruousness of her overall little girl appearance, complete with those cute ponytails on each side of her head, that somehow came across as being amazingly erotic and sexual. The way her little nipples revealed themselves beneath her shirt when she moved a certain way, pressing against the fabric. The frequent glimpses of her panty-covered little pussy each time she squatted down to look at something. The soft skin of her thighs leading up to those panties, a path that I now found myself wanting to travel with my tongue. The smiles from her, mostly just little girl smiles of excitement, but occasionally, smiles that seemed almost seductive, at least now, looking back at them.
I shook the thoughts off, wondering just what the hell was wrong with me. I noticed that I had a raging erection, and tried to will it into submission. That proved to be an exercise in futility. There was no way that thing was going to go away on its own.
I drained my drink, and went up to grab a quick shower. I figured I could do something about the state of my cock at the same time. While I stroked myself, my hands soapy, I focused on the sales girl at Victoria's Secret, trying to imagine myself fucking her. Didn't work. She was hot, no denying that, but images of her faded quickly, replaced with images of Amy. Amy kneeling in front of me, her hands on my shaft and balls, her lips wrapped around the swollen head of my dick. Amy lying on her back, my head buried between her thighs, lapping at her soft, warm pussy. Amy sitting astride me, riding my cock slowly, then faster and faster, taking me into the depths of her hot cunt until I exploded deep inside her, watching her cum with me.
When I came, it was with a volume and force that I don't think I've ever experienced before then. And as angry as I was with myself for thinking of my niece - no, my daughter, - that way, I still leaned back against the shower wall, and whispered to myself, "God, Amy. I want you so badly."
I had no idea what I was going to do about this. I mean, who the hell was I supposed to talk to about it? It was 1987, and the hysteria about child molesters was just reaching the point of being completely rabid. If I even breathed one word of what I was going through to a therapist or a friend, I'd be locked up, and I'd lose Amy. No way could I allow that.
So, I resolved that I was never going to touch her again, not the way that I had the night before. I was going to force my thoughts of her to stay within the realm of what's acceptable and decent and moral. And I'd find a girlfriend, one my own age, and force myself to stop thinking about Amy that way.
Wonderful intentions, but really just another exercise in futility, as I was going to find out pretty quickly.
Still feeling guilty about my thoughts and the things I'd been imagining about Amy, I dried off and went to bed. It wasn't the best night's sleep I've ever had, because my dreams, traitorous fuckers, were filled with images of Amy, naked, and sex with her. When I got up in the morning, I vowed again to make this stop. I did well for a few hours.
As I was making coffee that morning, I heard the shower start upstairs, so I started thinking about making breakfast for the two of us. As much as they make me shudder, Amy has this passionate love for toaster waffles, so I decided that's what we'd have for breakfast. I poured her a glass of orange juice and set it on the table, then set out two plates and the necessary silverware, along with maple syrup. I also poured her a glass of milk. By the time she came downstairs, the waffles were in the toaster, and she grinned at me.
"Waffles! I love you, Daddy!"
"Yeah, yeah," I said, "I knew it. You just love me because I let you eat these nasty things, and I even eat them with you."
"I do not," she said with a mock pout. "I love you for everything about you.." A sly grin appeared. "But the waffles sure do help."
"Brat," I said.
She stuck her tongue out at me, then grinned. By this time, we each had a waffle in front of us, and we started eating breakfast.
"So," I said, "we need to get all of your stuff unpacked and settled. We have to wash all those new clothes, and let you get your school supplies organized. I know school doesn't start till Thursday, but it'll be easier if we have you all settled before then."
"Yup." said Amy, "Daddy, you don't have to wash my clothes. I can do that at the same time I'm getting my notebooks and stuff ready."
"Well," I said, "why don't we do it together, okay? I know you can run the washer and dryer, but we need to sort your clothes by color and by what kind of cycle they need to be washed and dried with. It's probably time you started to learn about how to do laundry the right way."
Amy's eyes slid away from me for a second, and she blushed. What's that about, I wondered.
"Daddy, I don't want you to be washing my underwear and stuff," she said. "It's embarrassing."
The light came on, and I smiled. "Sweetie, it's not the first time I've seen your underwear, or even washed them, and it's not going to be the last."
"But..." Her eyes slid away again.
Ahh, I thought. "Is this because you got some training bras yesterday, Princess? Is that what you're embarrassed about?"
"Uhm, sorta," said Amy. Again, the eyes slid off to one side.
"Sweetie, they're just pieces of cloth. Just like any of your other clothes. There's no need for you to be embarrassed about it. Actually, it just means that you're growing up. That means that it's time for you to be wearing more grown up clothes. There's nothing you should be embarrassed about."
Amy's eyes snapped back to mine. "Is that what you really think? I'm growing up, and I can wear more grown up stuff now?"
I knew something was up, but I couldn't put my finger on what it might be. But I'd just said it, so I couldn't back out now.
"Yes, Princess, that's exactly what I think."
She looked relieved, and gave me that bright smile of hers again. She got up, and cleared the table, rinsed our dishes, and put them in the dishwasher. Household chores had never been an issue with Amy, my sister had brought her up to always help out around the house, and it was second nature to her, I guess. Still, it was nice to be in the company of a kid who was so conscientious about cleaning up after herself.
Amy bounced out of the room, and returned with two big bags filled with school supplies. I watched her as she sat, tip of her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, and organized everything to her satisfaction. Then she ran off and returned in a moment with her new backpack, and put everything into it. When she was done, she stood and caressed the suede backpack for a minute, then looked up at me.
"This is the most awesome backpack ever, Daddy. All the other kids are going to be so jealous that I actually have a leather bag for my school stuff."
"Speaking of leather," I said, "I know you probably know this, but just in case. Your leather pants and vest and jacket don't ever go in the wash, okay? When they need to be cleaned, we'll take them to the dry cleaners."
"Jeez, Daddy," she said, rolling her eyes at me, "I know that. Everyone knows you don't wash leather."
"Okay, okay. Just making sure, Sweetie."
Amy closed all the compartments on her backpack, then slung it over her shoulder and brought it out to the hallway. When she returned, she was struggling with a pile of bags from various clothing stores, finally managing to sling them on the table. I opened a drawer and brought out a pair of scissors to remove the tags from everything before we washed them.
Amy was most entranced with the leather outfit, which of course did not need to be washed. First, she brought out the pants - light, thin leather, coal black, with flared legs. We removed the tags, and Amy very carefully attached them to a hanger with clips on it, hanging them by the waistband so that they wouldn't crease at the knees. She hung them from one of the cupboard door handles, then returned to the bag from the leather shop, taking out the matching leather vest. We removed the tags, and she hung the vest on the same hanger with her pants.
The next item out of the bag was her new purse - again, lightweight, black leather, that matched her pants and vest. It was very small, barely big enough to hold a large wallet, and I wondered what use it could be. Then, I considered the fact that Amy was ten years old, and wouldn't have the mass of items that an adult woman would be carrying in a purse, couple with the fact that she had her backpack. I realized that the purse was more a fashion statement than anything else.
Finally, out came her new boots. Coal black, and much higher than I had originally realized. When she had them on, they would most likely reach almost to her knees, and they weren't typical cowboy boots. They had a rounded toe, but the heels were a good four inches high. Amy held them almost reverently in her hands, then looked at me and smiled.
"I love this outfit, Daddy," she said. "Thank you so much for letting me have it."
I melted...
We continued emptying bags, Amy smiling and giggling at her new clothes with utter delight, me reading washing instructions and separating them to be given their first run through the washer and dryer before being put away. Jeans, khakis, skirts, dresses, all were put into the appropriate pile for washing. Eventually, Amy realized that she couldn't avoid it any longer, and she brought out the two bags from Victoria's Secret, blushing furiously as she did.
She began handing me her new underwear, and I removed tags and set them in the proper piles. I had decided it would be best to say nothing, and act as though these were just more clothes, which, in fact, they were. My composure almost cracked, though, when she suddenly handed me a wad of panties. Well, if you could call them panties. It would have taken ten sets of them to make enough material for a "normal" pair of little girls panties.
I couldn't believe that someone actually made such skimpy thong panties for a girl Amy's age. There was almost nothing to them! The small triangle of material that would cover her pussy was so tiny as to be almost nonexistent. I froze, the panties in my hand, and felt my cock go rigid in my pants as I stared at them. I looked up at Amy for a moment to find her face a deep scarlet red. She spoke first.
"You said I could start wearing grown up clothes now, Daddy."
I swallowed, hoping that she couldn't hear what to me was an audible gulp.
"Yes, I did, Princess. I guess I just wasn't quite ready to see that you're really becoming a grown up girl now. But you are, and you don't have to be embarrassed. I think you'll feel very beautiful when you wear these."
Amy smiled bashfully, and walked to me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me.
"I love you, Daddy," she whispered. "Thank you for understanding."
I dropped to my knees in front of her.
"Sweetie, of course I understand. You're growing up. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever known, and you want to feel beautiful. And one way that girls feel beautiful is to wear sexy clothes. Don't ever feel ashamed of wanting to be sexy, okay?"
She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tight for long, long moments. I felt her lips kiss my cheek then, lightly.
"I love you so much, Daddy," she whispered again. Then she went back to kissing me lightly, all over my cheeks, until, either by accident or deliberately, I'll probably never know, her lips found mine. She lingered in the kiss, her lips closed, just lightly pressing her mouth to mine. After a few moments, I felt her sigh. Her body sagged into mine, and her lips parted slightly. I felt her tongue brush my lips, and I opened my mouth slightly. Her tongue slid softly into my mouth, lightly caressing mine, exploring.
I woke up suddenly. I broke the kiss, and held her face in my hands gently.
"We have to stop this, Princess," I said.
She looked ready to cry. "But why, Daddy?"
"We'll talk in a little while, okay? But for now, Princess, we have to stop. I have to think. Do you understand?"
Amy looked crestfallen. "No," she said.
"Then I'll explain it to you in a little while, okay? But for now, just realize that you haven't done anything wrong, okay? Daddy just needs to think about what's happening here. And I promise, I'll sit down, and I'll explain to you why I have to stop before you go to bed tonight, okay?"
She nodded. "Okay, Daddy." She paused. "Daddy? Do you still love me?"
I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close to me. "Oh, Baby, there's nothing in this world that could ever make me stop loving you. Don't you ever worry about that, do you hear me? I'll always love you, always and always, forever and forever."
We stayed that way, locked in each other's arms, for what seemed like hours. Finally, I broke away, and said, "Now. Let's get your clothes washed, okay? And then later on, maybe you can give me a little fashion show, and let me see how you look in all these new clothes."
Amy grinned. "Really? You want to see me model my clothes for you?"
"I would love to see my sexy girl model some clothes for me," I replied.
She grinned. "I even have some of Mommy's makeup. I can be like a real model for you, Daddy!"
"Okay, then," I said, "fashion show it is, right after supper. But for now, let's get all this stuff washed, okay?"
"Okay, Daddy!"
Together, we carried the piles of clothes to the laundry room, and started the first load washing.
I returned to the kitchen, and while Amy went off to her room to do whatever it is that little girls do when they're alone, I started making dinner for the two of us. I decided that something messy, sloppy and fun was in order, so I decided on barbequed ribs. While I threw together the ingredients for barbeque sauce, then peeled and cut up potatoes for potato salad, I pondered the kiss that Amy had given me earlier.
Where on earth did she learn about using her tongue? I wondered as I relived the moment. I could almost feel her firm yet oh, so soft body sagging into me again as I thought about her kiss. When her arms had tightened around my neck, I had responded to the kiss, there was no doubt about it. I had opened my mouth to allow her tongue access. Just what the fuck is wrong with you, asshole? I thought. This is your sister's daughter - hell, by default, she's your daughter now. What the fuck were you thinking?
Suddenly, I noticed that I was responding to that kiss all over again. Even with the direction that my thoughts were taking, berating myself, as I relived that kiss my cock began to swell in my pants, quickly becoming uncomfortable. I had a fleeting image of Amy repeating that kiss, only this time, she was naked in my arms. I forced myself to focus on what I was doing, deciding to just wing it when I spoke with Amy after supper that evening.
It's been too long since I got laid, I thought. That brought Miranda, the Victoria's Secret salesgirl to my mind. I decided to take a chance, and see if she was home. I dug her phone number out of my wallet, dialed it, and was pleasantly surprised to find that she was indeed home.
"Uhm, hi," I said, "this is Steve Philips. I was in your store yesterday with my daughter? You gave me your number, remember?"
There was a moment's hesitation, then, "Oh, hi! Of course I remember you two. How are you?"
"Well, now that I've recovered from the heart attack," I said, "I'm doing pretty well, thanks."
"Uhm, heart attack?"
"Yeah, heart attack," I said. "When I saw some of the things she picked out in your store, I about keeled over from the shock!" I laughed to let her know that I wasn't really upset.
Miranda laughed. "I know. It's not easy to think of your little girl wearing things like that, is it? They grow up too fast. My daughter will be ten in another month, so I know exactly what you're going through."
Well, she's either a single Mom, or she has a very understanding husband, I thought.
"So, anyway," I said, "the reason I'm calling is I wanted to see if maybe you'd like to have dinner? I was going to suggest a restaurant some evening, but now that I know you have a daughter, too, how about the two of you come here for a barbeque one afternoon? I know that Amy would love to have someone her own age to hang out with for an afternoon, and I also know that I'm desperate for some adult company."
"Well, I don't know," Miranda replied. "Can you actually cook?" I could hear the suppressed laughter in her voice.
"Darlin'," I said, in my best Southern accent, "y'all ain't never had no ribs till ya try mah slow cooked baby-backs, served up with corn on the cob and homemade tater salad. Oh, an' the best sweet tea y'all ever let slide past yo' lips, too. Hell, Ah'll even whip up a nice pecan pie fo' dessert, too."
Miranda was laughing uncontrollably by the time I finished. "Okay, I'm hooked," she said. "But we can't do it this weekend. Would next weekend work for you?"
"Next weekend would be perfect," I said. I gave her the address, and found out that she lived about two miles from us. I told her to show up anytime she wanted to show up after about 9:00 am. She asked me if she could bring anything.
"Bring yourself, your daughter, a healthy appetite, and your preference of alcoholic beverage," I said. "Leave the rest to me."
I hung up the phone feeling cautiously optimistic. Probably wasn't going to get laid on the first date, but she seemed friendly, and she had obviously been attracted to me when I was at her store. Besides, it really would be nice to have some adult company there to hang out with, talk to, and just generally relax with.
Amy came back into the kitchen. I told her about the plans for the following weekend. She seemed a bit surprised, but then she hadn't seen me dating since long before her mother had gotten sick. She got excited, though, when she found out who was coming, and that she had a daughter her age. Actually, her exact comment was, "Oh, cool! That means I won't have to hang out with a couple of old farts all by myself then!"
She squealed and tried to run as I grabbed her and took her to the floor, tickling her ribs until she was begging me for mercy.
Relenting, I let her up to go do another load of laundry. I heard the dryer start, then I heard the washer start up again. Amy came back into the kitchen and sat at the table after grabbing a can of soda from the refrigerator.
"Daddy," she said, "will you tell me why you didn't want me to kiss you before?"
I stopped what I was doing and sat down at the table next to her.
"Well, first of all, Princess, it's not that I don't want you to kiss me. I love it when you kiss me. When you kiss someone, it's a way of showing them that you love them, and I like to be shown that you love me. It was the way that you kissed me that was the problem."
"Why?" Amy looked genuinely perplexed. "What was wrong with the way I kissed you?"
I guess these kinds of discussions come with the territory when you're responsible for bringing up a young girl. That doesn't make them any easier though.
"Honey, when you kissed me, you used your tongue. That's not the kind of kiss that you give to your Daddy, or to any adult at your age. That kind of kiss is one that you share with a boyfriend or a lover or a husband. When you kiss someone like that, it usually leads to other things."
"You mean like sex, right?" She rolled her eyes at me, as if I were an idiot for thinking she needed to have this explained to her.
"Honestly, Princess, yes, like sex. The point is that the way you kissed me is the way that you kiss someone that you're in love with, not someone you love the way that you love me."
Amy regarded me coolly for a long, long moment and then smiled. "Who said I'm not in love with you, Daddy?"
My jaw dropped. Okay, how was I going to respond to this one?
"Amy... Princess... That's not... I mean... You can't be in love with me."
"Why not, Daddy? Mommy told me once that we really don't choose who we fall in love with. She said it just happens. Well it happened. I'm in love with you."
"But... Princess, it would be wrong. I'd be taking advantage of you."
Amy rolled her eyes at me. "You're talking about sex again, right? Look, Daddy, I know about sex. Well, some, anyway. I want to learn all about it, and I want to learn it with you."
I shifted gears. "You know about sex? What do you know about it?"
"I know how it's s'posed to work. I don't know how a guy could get his thing inside a girl, but that's what they say happens, so it must work that way. I know it's s'posed to feel really good, and it must, because when I play with myself that feels really nice."
When you play with yourself? I thought. She must have been reading my thoughts at that moment.
"Yes, Daddy, I play with myself. I touch myself between my legs and rub myself there." I watched a deep blush creep into her face as she went on. "It feels really nice, and when I do it, I always think of you, and wish it was you touching me there." Even though I could tell she was embarrassed, she maintained her eye contact with me.
"Princess," I said, "do you have any idea how wrong it would be for us to... I mean for me to... I mean..."
"Who says it's wrong, Daddy?"
"The law for one," I replied. "I could go to jail for a very, very long time if anyone ever found out about something like that. And I'm sorry, Princess, I don't like to treat you like a child, but in this case, you still are a child. This is a decision that you aren't ready to make yet. You're too young."
I watched Amy's jaw set, much the way her mother's used to set when she was planting her feet firmly in an argument, and refused to give any ground.
"Daddy, I am NOT a child. Okay, well I am in some ways, I guess. But I'm a lot more grown up than most kids my age, and you know it. You know all the things I've been through. And get real, Daddy." There was that eye roll again. "Do you really think I'd ever tell anyone if we were doing sex? Do you think I'd ever do anything that might get you taken away from me? I lost my first Daddy, and I lost my Mommy. I'm not going to lose you, too."
I looked at her in a state of semi-shock. "You've thought a lot about this, haven't you, Princess?"
She blushed again, and looked down at the table for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "Who do you think I bought the sexy underwear for, Daddy?"
She stood up then and stepped closer to me. She cupped my cheeks in her hands, and kissed me lightly, then smiled. Staring straight into my eyes, she took me completely by surprise.
"Besides, Daddy," she whispered, "you want to, even if you don't know it. I woke up yesterday with your thing stuck up inside my panties and your hands inside my shirt and panties. I liked how it felt."
It was my turn to blush.
She left me there to go take her clothes out of the dryer and start her next load. I continued making dinner, my mind whirling.
~ To Be Continued ~