As I suspected, it didn't take long to wrap up the lawsuit after searing testimony by a crying, 8-year-old autistic child. The rich bastard who'd run down her Mommy in the street was so relieved to avoid prison time for vehicular homicide that he settled for an obscene amount of money, leaving little orphan Cathy very well off for life.

Since we'd taken the case on contingency, my partner and I also got impressively handsome fees as well, of course, so I took a short vacation to rest and slough off some of the tensions I'd lived with for too long. With time to myself, I couldn't help my thoughts from wandering back to the stunning afternoon I'd spent alone in a distant hotel room with that remarkable little girl.

Suddenly, the online child-model sites I used for daily masturbation didn't seen nearly as compelling as the intoxicating memories of just a few magical hours with the little tyke, the fresh smell of her bubblegum-scented shampoo, the childish taste of sticky soda pop as I swirled my tongue in her mouth, the sweet anticipation as I tugged down her little cartoon kiddie panties, the silky feel of her delicate flesh as I fondled her naked body, the indescribably delicious sensation of my yearning penis gliding into a small child for the first time in my life.

As I repeatedly masturbated to feverish memories of my afternoon of child molesting, I became more and more drawn to the unfortunate little orphan with feelings of compassion equivalent to my overwhelming lust. I wrestled with emotional complexity far beyond anything I'd known -- I desperately wanted more forbidden kiddie sex, but at the same time couldn't deny a deeply compelling desire to love and protect the child. My mind, my heart and my dick warred with one another, I had no idea how to reconcile them, and the emotional turmoil grew into an all-consuming obsession.

Finally one day, after yet another intense but unrewarding orgasm, I began trolling the Internet for information about adoption procedures. I had enough money by now to live a modestly comfortable life. I could retire early and devote my time to raising little Cathy. At 52 I was still young enough to raise her to young adulthood, and the generous settlement she'd received would be far more than adequate to provide for the special care she'd require for her autism.

In moments of reflection, my left brain hounded me with doubts about this stupid decision as I began the arduous ordeal of planning and paperwork. But my emotional right brain egged me on, with hazy visual images of the child's limp, naked body, and memories of the horrid, careless nuns at the orphanage, and her sadly imploring eyes that spoke more eloquently than she could of her deep loneliness in the absence of her parents.

Finally, after countless background checks and interviews with earnest bureaucrats, the application was provisionally approved, subject to the usual conditions. Little Cathy would be placed with me for a three-month trial period, with periodic supervisory visits, before the adoption was legally finalized.

With butterflies humming in my gut I boarded a plane to fetch my new little daughter, barely able to sleep that night in the same hotel where we'd gotten to know one another so intimately two months earlier. By 9 am the next morning the little girl was holding my hand as I carried her pathetically small suitcase to my rental car. By noon we were on plane, where I noticed for the first time that she was carrying a doll -- the same one she'd been given by the hotel staff to play with on the day we'd met, when we'd found other games to play instead.

I'd obsessively planned and rehearsed for the moment when I introduced my little girl to her new home. As usual, she solemnly toddled in, her impassive face wearing her customarily sullen expression as she looked around in silence at her unfamiliar new home.

I ushered her to her room, which I'd transformed from a home office into a child's bedroom, with silly cartoon wallpaper and a fairy-tale bed with pink sheets and a pink Barbie bedspread. The bed was festooned with dolls and plush toys, the closet full of gaily colored skirts, dresses, jumpers, frilly blouses -- attire my left brain thought might appeal to an 8-year-old, but my right brain had chosen for their appeal to a closet pedophile.

After a light supper I left the little girl to bathe and change into her nightie -- babydoll style, of course, then tucked her in bed. I'd promised myself to practice absolute restraint for as long as it took for the child to acclimate to her new surroundings. But my dick hadn't agreed, and stirred uncomfortably in my pants as I stroked her soft tummy through the Winnie-the-Pooh cartoon on her nightie, and murmured reassuring things about how much fun she was going to have in her new life with me. My heart lurched as the little girl turned to make fleeting eye contact with her sad, liquid eyes before turning away and curling into a ball on her side under the covers.

I switched off the light, closed her bedroom door and went immediately to the bathroom to relieve temptation and at least temporarily quell the urge to strip naked and climb into that little pink bed.

The following weeks were busy, establishing household routines and a relationship with a local psychiatrist, enduring endless interviews with smiling, vacuous bureaucrats. Luckily it was still early summer, so the ordeal of school registration could wait until fall.

Since I was no longer working, I spent as much time as possible showing Cathy around her new city, visiting the zoo, museums, the swimming pool at the club I'd just joined for the purpose, the local playground where she found a swing that delighted her as much as the one she'd left behind. Watching the little girl playing made me begin to regret the choice of clothing I'd bought for her. The shiny, infantile Mary Jane shoes, the childish knee socks, the pretty play dresses billowing up to reveal little kiddie cartoon panties, the pink ribbons in her swinging pigtails made my self-imposed abstinence more painful to bear daily.

It was worse in the evenings, when the little girl would sit in my lap in her little babydoll nightie, idly kicking her furry slippers as she watched a silly movie, and I gazed with lusting eyes at her warm, slack lips and enticingly sullen expression.

On one fateful evening she fell asleep in my lap, her head slumped against my chest, snoring quietly. I bent slightly to inhale the childish smell of her bubblegum-scented shampoo, my hand curled around her skinny little thigh and I couldn't resist gently stroking the soft, silky flesh of her inner thigh, up and down slowly, coming to within an inch of the succulent little sexual organ I so desperately desired.

My other hand curled around her narrow chest, to cup and feel the tiny nipples beneath the thin cotton nightie, my dick began to bloat in my pants and I felt my self-control slipping dangerously. The slumbering child shifted slightly in my lap and her limp arm dropped so her tiny fingers rested directly on the thing throbbing in my pants.

Moving slowly to avoid waking the little girl, I dropped my hand to cover her tiny fingers and sighed quietly to myself as I began gently rolling and squeezing her fingers on my aching dick. My gut knotted with the delicious sensation of sexual contact after so long an absence, and my self-control gave way. I moved my other hand up to cup the child's soft panty crotch in my palm, gently stroking the pudgy little cleft of her sex and masturbating myself with her tiny fingers. The sap rose fast, I knew I couldn't hold it back, and I groaned softly and closed my eyes in anticipation of the inevitable eruption, when...

DING-DONG!

The... the doorbell? The fucking DOORBELL?!? I glanced at my watch. It was just after 9 pm. Who the hell would...

DING-DONG!

The second ring jolted the little girl awake, she opened her bleary eyes as I jerked my hand from her crotch and quickly smoothed down the little nightie. I lifted the limp child from my lap, seated her on the sofa and strode to the door, my rigid penis throbbing on the verge of orgasm as I walked.

The door opened to reveal a pudgy, older woman with a spiral notebook and a smile that looked like it'd been painted onto a department store manikin.

"Mr. Campbell? I'm Ann Bovine, from the adoption agency. May I come in for a quick chat? It won't take long."

In fact, brochures I'd read did mention that the agency might make unannounced visits from time to time, but it hadn't happened before tonight, so it was completely unexpected. I briefly wondered if the woman had some extrasensory powers that alerted her to time this visit just as the sleeping child was about to masturbate me to orgasm.

Moving awkwardly to conceal the rampant erection in my trousers, I ushered the woman in and clicked off the TV as she settled her ample rump into an armchair.

"Oh, you were watching a movie? I'm sorry. But this won't take long, I just have to ask a few questions."

The questions were routine and predictable, no different from the ones I'd answered in office interviews. She diligently jotted down notes, then closed the notebook and turned to smile at Cathy

"So, Cathy, it looked like you were watching a Shrek movie, right? I'm sorry I interrupted, my granddaughter loves Shrek movies. They're fun, aren't they?

The little kid just nodded sullenly, staring at the floor, avoiding eye contact with the strange woman.

"Um... Mr. Campbell, would it be okay for me to talk to Cathy alone, just for a minute? Maybe we could go to the kitchen, would that be all right?"

My gut clenched as I smiled and nodded. I slumped onto the sofa, imagining the questions little Cathy was being asked. What do you eat for breakfast? What time do you go to bed? Has anyone hurt you? Do you know what a Bad Touch is?

They emerged from the kitchen, Cathy looking as sullen as ever, the woman still wearing her cardboard smile but looking a bit confused, which made me smirk to myself. The kid probably hadn't said a word to her. Over the weeks we'd spent together she'd relaxed somewhat and I was able to coax a few more words from her, occasionally, but she was still painfully shy, especially with strangers.

The woman finally left, with reassuring words about what a lucky little girl Cathy was to have such a nice, caring Daddy. Which made me somewhat relieved, even if I did yearn to know what she'd written in the damned notebook.

After putting the little girl to bed I dashed to the bathroom, dug into the hamper for a pair of tiny cartoon-print panties and groaned my relief as I watched an impressive amount of pent-up sexual desire spurt through the soft fabric to soil the faces of happy little kittens. Calmer now, I dumped the dripping panties back into the hamper, went for a glass of wine and sat to consider the situation. In retrospect, as frustrating as that visit was, I was damned glad she hadn't rung that bell 30 seconds later, forcing me to answer the door with fresh semen soaking through my trousers.

But we were now more than halfway through the three-month trial period. Surely by now the agency had a pretty good idea that I was a responsible parent. My frustration was mounting daily. It was becoming unbearable, being constantly in the company of a beautiful, enticing and very willing little 8-year-old that I dared not touch. I doubted very much that little Cathy would tell anyone if I gave in to my desires, but a physical examination might reveal things that would ruin my life and hers.

Then inspiration struck. Cathy's next physical exam --the last one, as far as I knew -- was in two weeks. I went to the computer to do some research, then went to bed, smiling at my own cleverness as I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning at breakfast I asked, "Cathy, has anyone ever taken you to a beach, to see the ocean?" The little kid just shook her head, which I expected, since she'd been raised in a land-locked state, hundreds of miles from the nearest coast. "It's very exciting, Cathy. Would you like to go see?" She just shrugged, laconically chewing her cereal.

After breakfast I called my contact at the agency. "Hi, I've got a question that I don't think the agency policy addressed, so maybe you can help. I've got to visit a client in Rio de Janeiro in a couple weeks. Would it be permissible for Cathy to accompany me? She's never traveled, and I thought we might make it into a little vacation for both of us. Otherwise, I'll have to arrange for foster care, which might be very upsetting to her."

After consulting with the staff, the guy called me back later to say no one had a problem with that. "Just let us know when you'll leave and return. And have a great trip!"

Two weeks later little Cathy had an expedited passport, and was pronounced completely healthy after her thorough medical exam. The next day we were on a plane. "Isn't this exciting, Cathy? We're going to a different country," I smiled as I fastened her seat belt, then dropped my hand to playfully pat her miniature thigh.

"Aren't you excited, honey? I'm very excited," I said, squeezing the little leg gently. She just shrugged her thin shoulders, staring down at the doll she clutched to her chest. I leaned back and sighed in contentment as the plane lifted off, speeding us toward a cozy hotel room five thousand miles away from prying eyes and "unannounced visits."

*********

At the airport I told the driver to take a circuitous route to the hotel, to give Cathy a glimpse of the famous Copacabana Beach. I lifted the little tyke into my lap for a better view, savoring the now-familiar tingling of my abdomen at the soft warmth of her little bottom. Uncharacteristically, little Cathy seemed intrigued by the scene. Since she so rarely expressed overt interest in anything, I told the driver to stop for a moment.

"Look," the child suddenly blurted, pointing a stumpy finger as a well-endowed woman strolled by wearing nothing but flip-flops and a bikini bottom no larger than a postage stamp. I smiled and explained that we were in a different country, now, where customs were very different from home, and women's bare breasts were accepted.

"No, not her. Look," she said, pointing again. My eyes scanned the crowd. All I could see were women and children wearing bikinis that weren't much more than two band aids and a cork.

Then I finally saw what Cathy was pointing at -- a group of six little girls about her age playing in the sand bare naked, their flat chests and tender little pussies gleaming in the sunlight. "Those girls are bad," she announced.

Already semi-turgid from the warmth of the child's bottom in my lap, my dick bloated to full erection as I gazed at one little girl sitting cross-legged, her puffy little cunt lips gaping open to reveal her tiny, pink hole. My hand crept around the little girl in my lap to cup her soft tummy in my palm, and I told the driver to move on, we need to get to the hotel... very soon...

To avoid the chaotic resort-hotel scene, I'd chosen a smaller hotel in a converted villa some distance from the beach strip, partway up the mountain where the air was fresh and cool. Cathy wandered to a window to admire the view from the lobby, and the fat proprietor grinned at her as I registered. "So pretty!" he said. "How old? Is she six? You know, signor, we do not charge for children under seven years old."

I smiled across the room at the tiny 8-year-old and quickly agreed. "Yes, she just turned six a few months ago," I lied. "She's getting to be a big girl, now."

I was pleased that I'd timed our trip so well. It was the off-season and, as I'd expected, the hotel had few guests. As requested, I was given a suite at the end of a long corridor adjacent, as far as I could tell, to half a dozen empty rooms.

My voice cracked with anticipation as I thanked and tipped the bellman, then closed the door and locked it with a satisfying click that emphasized I was finally all alone with my delicious little playmate, on a different continent, where absolutely no one knew either of us, or cared what we did in privacy.

Cathy clacked across the wooden floor in her shiny new shoes I'd bought for the trip, to open the French doors and step onto the balcony. She rested her chin on the balcony railing to gaze at the sea view, her light, cotton play dress billowing in the soft breeze and offering tantalizing glimpses of the slim, childish thighs I longed to feel clinging to my body.

The agonizing anticipation of so many weeks ached in the pit of my stomach, and I yearned to snatch up the little tyke and dive into the huge, inviting bed with her, but I'd invested so very much in nurturing our relationship that I didn't want anything so abrupt to damage it.

I stepped onto the balcony beside her and reached down to stroke her silky hair. "It's a pretty view, isn't it, Cathy? Do you like it here?" I murmured, twirling her tiny pigtails. She just stared at the horizon and nodded. "It smells nice," she finally said.

"That's jasmine, Cathy," I said, kneeling beside her to stroke her thin back with my hand. "It grows wild here, and makes flowers that smell very sweet... just like you," I murmured in her hair, inhaling the childish scent of bubblegum shampoo, and curling my arm around the little girl to stroke her soft tummy through the thin cotton play dress. She turned to glance at my face, then turned her gaze back to the sea.

"Is this a hotel?" she said after a long silence. I nodded.

"Are you gonna touch me here?" My throat constricted and the hand gently fondling her tummy froze.

"Wh... ah... what do you mean, Cathy?"

Long silence. "Well... you touched me at that other hotel, but... but you never touch me in your house," she said with a timid pout.

"Ah, Cathy, I... I won't touch you if you don't want me to, honey," I stammered. "Do you... uh... want me to touch you?" I managed, resuming my gentle fondling of her tummy as my ears strained to hear her response. But she never said a word, just shrugged her thin shoulders.

My aching dick jerked and drooled a wet runnel of pre-cum into my pants at this ambiguous answer. My hand moved up to glide slowly across the child' flat chest, down to cup and knead her babyfat little tummy, back up to feel the tiny nipples beneath her cotton play dress.

"Honey, I love touching you, because you're my little girl, and I love you, but... but I couldn't do that at home, because it's... very private, and we wouldn't want anyone to know," I whispered into the child's fragrant, silky hair as I gently fondled her frail body. "But here, we're all alone, and... no one can see us, and... and we can do anything we want... anything at all..." I breathed into her hair as my hand dipped lower to stroke lightly over the thin dress fabric covering her little panties.

The child didn't reply, but her tiny fingers curled around the balcony railing and she just stood there, silently letting me fondle her as I breathed raggedly into her soft hair, my rigid dick tingling and aching for some sign of acquiescence from the little girl.

After so many agonizing weeks of abstinence and desperate anticipation, I don't think I'd ever desired anything in my life more intensely than some sign of the child's consent, at that moment. Even my tongue was swollen with lust, aching to taste the musky nectar of my little girl's immature sex, as I fought to maintain control with my stiff dick throbbing in the warm, slick liquid now soaked all the way through my briefs.

"Don't you like it when Daddy touches you like this, Cathy?" I whispered into her hair, desperately hoping for a positive answer, as my fingers lightly brushed over her little mound, then quickly withdrew in fear of provoking an unwanted response.

The child just stood there, gripping the railing, then after a long moment, finally spoke. "I'm sleepy," she announced.

Suffused with the raging endorphins of kiddie sex anticipation, my right brain refused to acknowledge what I was hearing, but my reasoning left hemisphere prevailed. It had been a very long day, after all. We'd had to rise at 5 am for the long flight, and she was such a very young girl.

I scooped her up in my arms, carried her to the bed, tugged off her tiny, doll-size shoes and pulled the bedspread over her. She whined for the little doll she'd become so attached to, so I retrieved it from her satchel to tuck it under her arm, then switched on the ceiling fan and began unpacking, to distract myself from the outrageously depraved desires suffusing my brain.

I was too wired with excitement and lust to sleep myself, so I locked the door behind me and went down to the lobby bar, hoping a drink might help calm me down. Three caipirinhas didn't help much, with the knowledge that a sexually experienced little 8-year-old was peacefully slumbering in a big, soft, king-size bed so tantalizingly close by.

As the sun slowly arced toward the horizon, I finally returned to our hotel suite, closing the door quietly behind me. The little tyke was still sound asleep, but she'd kicked the covers off and lay spread on her back in her play dress, clutching her doll to her flat chest.

A mostly cold shower didn't help much more than the drinks I'd had in the lobby. Despite the cool water, my stiff dick still bobbed at half mast, aching for relief, and I stared down at the thing, wondering for the thousandth time why it so desperately needed small children for sexual gratification.

I stepped out of the bathroom, vigorously toweling my hair, to find the little girl sitting up in bed, stretching and yawning, which stretched the thin cotton play dress tightly over her bony chest to emphasize the tiny pencil points beneath.

As her languorous yawn faded, the child's eyes came to rest on the stiff penis pointing at her from across the room. "It's getting bad again, Daddy," she announced in her childishly solemn way, as she pointed at it.

"Ah... no, honey it just... it just gets that way sometimes when I take a shower," I stammered, dropping the towel to cover my embarrassment.

"No it doesn't," the kid said, her little pigtails swinging as she shook her head. "It got that way in the car, when you were lookin' at those bad girls."

Jeezuz. I knew by now that autistic children aren't all necessarily unobservant, some are quite smart, which made me wonder just how much little Cathy understood about the darkly forbidden nature of pedophilia.

As I knotted the towel around my waist, she dropped her doll and crawled off the enormous bed to stand before me, hands clasped chastely behind her back.

"Does it make you happy to look at bad girls like that, Daddy?" she asked in a shy voice. Before I could answer she reached up to slip her shoulder straps down and the play dress dropped to puddle around her ankles. "Would it make you happy if I was a bad girl like that?" she whispered, casting her eyes down at the floor and biting her lip shyly.

My throat went dry and I dropped the towel to the floor, curling my fingers around my rigid erection and stroking it as I gazed down at the child's tiny nipples, and the soft curve of her tummy where it disappeared into the little cartoon panties she wore, bearing an image of Winnie-the-Pooh licking his lips with his paw plunged into a honeypot.

"You... you're not a bad little girl, Cathy," I murmured, too mesmerized to move as I slowly masturbated myself and gazed down at the child timidly displaying her frail body for me. "And, yes, it... it makes me very happy to look at you, because you're Daddy's little girl, and I love you."

The kid scuffed her little feet on the floor nervously, glanced up at my face, then quickly averted her eyes. "Are you going to... touch me now, Daddy?" she whispered in a barely audible voice, blushing pink and staring at the floor.

I groaned and dropped painfully to my knees with a loud thump as I scooped the child into my arms, plastering my lips to hers, swirling my engorged tongue in her little mouth, kneading the tiny peaches of her bottom through the thin panty fabric and moaning into her mouth.

My hand plunged beneath the elastic waistband to cup both little butt peaches in the palm of one hand, my finger nestling between them to feel the slick moisture of her anticipation. I wriggled a finger into the leaking little hole and groaned as I thrust my stiff dick between the silky thighs beneath her panty crotch, urgently fucking the soft flesh of her miniature legs as I swirled my tongue in her mouth and stirred my finger in the creamy depths of her tiny vagina.

The child gripped my shoulders for support and moaned into my mouth as her knobby knees buckled and she slumped heavily against me. Panting, I broke the long kiss, sucked my wet finger from her body and lifted the limp little girl out of the play dress bunched around her ankles. I carried her to the bed, laid her on her back and sat beside her, my rampant dick dripping on the bedspread as I stroked her soft tummy and stared at the small wet spot seeping through the cartoon honeypot on her panties.

The little girl turned to stare for a long moment at my engorged phallus, then turned away. "you're going to use me now, aren't you, Daddy?" she mumbled into the bedspread.

I bent to inhale the musky aroma seeping through the child's damp Winnie-the-Pooh cartoon and murmured, "Do you want me to use you, little Cathy?" I whispered, swirling my fingertip in the warm little wet spot. "Do you want Daddy to use your sweet little honey pot?"

The child shivered with anticipation, but jerked her head to hide her face in a pillow. "But, I'm... I'm not s'posed to let you... do that in me," she huffed into the pillow. "It's bad, 'cuz... 'cuz I'm too little," she whined, lifting her stumpy legs to help as I tugged the tiny panties down, over her frilly, pink ankle socks and dropped them on the bed.

I patted the child's soft tummy, stood and padded naked across the floor to hang the "Não Perturbe /Do Not Disturb" sign on the corridor knob, then closed and double-locked the door. Walking back to the bed I paused to gaze down at the skinny, naked little 8-year-old shyly hiding her face in the pillow, with my rampantly engorged penis waving in the air above her slight body, jerking and dripping with anticipation.

I rolled onto my back and tugged the naked child on top of me, fondling her smooth little bottom and hunching my wet dick between her soft thighs. "Yes, Cathy, you are too little," I panted into her silky hair. "Did you know that's what makes Daddy so excited, Cathy? Because you're such a little girl?"

The kid lay still for a moment, letting me masturbate myself between her now slick little thighs, then nodded slightly. "I know," she whispered into my chest hairs. "That's why it's bad, 'cuz you're a grownup, and I'm too little..."

My aching dick jerked at the child's innocent but knowing words, and I reached to clasp her knobby knees, pulling them so she straddled my wide hips, then pressed my palm to her flat chest to urge her into a sitting position astride me, my engorged dick leaking pre-cum into her belly button.

"It's okay, little Cathy, you can be a bad girl, we're all alone here, and no one will know," I rasped, my voice cracking with lust as I curled her tiny fingers around the stiff thing pressed into her soft tummy. "P- put it inside you, Cathy... Daddy needs it... needs to... to use his little girl, Cathy..."

I growled deep in my throat in anticipation as I watched the pouting child raise herself to notch the fat dick head between her pudgy lips, wriggling her tiny bottom into the correct angle of entry. She bit her lip and grunted sharply as the bulbous head popped in, then squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered as the heavily veined shaft slowly disappeared into her body.

"G- ghod, no... no, Cathy, don't close your eyes, look, honey," I gasped, gripping the child's willowy thighs as I felt the deliciously sucking warmth I'd anticipated for so many weeks. "Watch it, Cathy... watch Daddy's big dick go deep inside your... your sweet little baby hole..."

The kid craned her head down to watch, her mouth slack as her warm little vagina slowly swallowed the thick meat, inch by inch, then winced slightly and grunted as her delicate bottom came to rest on my balls.

My eyeballs rolled white in my head at the delicious, creamy warmth of the little hole sucking relentlessly at the entire length of my wildly over-stimulated penis.

"Oh no, oh, g- ghod, h- hold still, C- Cathy, hold very, v- very still, Daddy's just about to... ohghod..." I babbled, gripping the child's slim waist with tensed fingers to hold her motionless as I desperately fought to stave off instant orgasm.

Tense seconds slowly ticked by as I gritted my teeth and drooled pre-cum into the deeply impaled moppet, staring with bulging eyes at the mass of my pubic hair pressed firmly into her pale, delicate crotch.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" the child pouted, glancing shyly down at my bared teeth and straining face.

"It's... it's okay, C- Cathy," I managed in a strangled voice, reaching down to stroke the matchstick-thin little thighs straddling me. "I just... it just feels too GOOD inside you... Daddy has needed his little girl for so very long, honey... and Daddy wants to use you for a long, long time..."

The little girl bit her lip and clapped her hands to her face, her pigtails swinging as she shook her head at my words. "No, no, don't say that, Daddy, it's bad," she whimpered quietly. "I'm not s'posed to let you use me..."

As I slowly regained self-control I forced open my tightly shut eyes to gaze at the impossibly tiny child impaled so deeply on my dick, whimpering softly into the tiny fingers hiding her face.

"O- okay, little Cathy, tell you what. You can use me, instead, okay? Did anyone ever tell you it was bad for you to use your Daddy?"

The perplexed little girl parted two fingers to blink at me with one eye. "Well... no..." she finally said in a quavering voice.

"Okay, then, I'll show you how," I whispered, tugging her slim wrists to expose her pouting face. I bent my knees to draw my legs up behind her bony back, and curled her fingers into my hairy thighs. This made her lean back slightly, and thrust her tummy forward.

"Now, just sit like that, and do this, nice and slow, Cathy," I whispered, gripping her tiny waist and slowly urging her forward and back to grind her tender crotch into my balls. "Feel that, Cathy? You can use Daddy's big dick to make you feel good inside, isn't that nice?"

The child's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she tentatively thrust forward and back, feeling the strange sensation of an engorged penis moving deep inside her, as my wiry pubic hairs tickled and teased her tiny clitoris.

Her fingers tensed and curled into the hairs of my thighs as she settled into a slow, sensual rhythm, her sullen pout now transformed into an expression of astonishment and wonder.

I groaned and reached back to clasp my hands behind my head, panting as I watched the small, naked child languorously riding my stiff penis, her soft, babyfat tummy slowly thrusting forward and back on my wrinkled balls.

"Oh... my... ghod..." I breathed to myself as I watched the child laconically fucking the stiff penis that so deeply impaled her. My hands crept down her slim thighs to clasp and fondle her little doll-size feet in childish, frilly ankle socks, so much smaller than my hands, which emphasized that I was fucking a naked little tot who looked not much older than a toddler.

My abdomen clenched and I didn't know how much longer I could stand the agonizingly sweet warmth inside the little girl as she slowly ground her tiny hips on the root of my stiff penis. It almost felt like the child had a soft tongue inside her, licking and sucking and teasing my quivering dick with the juicy warmth of her tender vagina flesh.

Every hair follicle on my body stood at rigid attention as I savored every sensation of the obscenely depraved kiddie sex I'd so desperately anticipated for so long. The creaky ceiling fan whirring above us, the quiet creaking of bedsprings as the skinny child ground herself on my pubic bone, the cloying fragrance of lilac flowers wafting in from the balcony, mixed with traces of the musky goo leaking from the little girl's female sex into the hairs of my balls...

"E- ef... ef... e- eff," the child grunted in her enticingly high-pitched voice, as she slowly thrusted and rotated her tiny hips to feel the engorged penis inside her bloating and stimulating the sensitive flesh of her tiny vagina.

My hands reached up to twirl her little pigtails, and stroke her flushed cheeks as she slowly worked herself on my rigid meat. "That's it, Cathy, use it... use Daddy's big, hard dick, Cathy," I whispered, dropping my hands to stroke her flat, pale chest and tease her stiff little nipples with my fingertips.

"Oh, no th- that's... that's b- BHAAAAAD..." the child gasped with a whoosh of breath, grinding herself faster on my pubic bone as I stroked and pinched her straining nipplets.

"G- ghod, yeah, be a bad girl, Cathy, no one will know except us. Be a very, very bad little girl," I gasped, rolling her tiny nipples and hunching myself to the verge of orgasm inside her. "God, Daddy's g- gonna c- cum, Cathy, Deep inside Cathy's sweet little b- BABY HOLE..."

"No, no, d- don't! Oh, don't DO it in me, Daddy," she panted as she shivered and her little vagina suddenly clenched hard on me. "Not in my b- baby hole..."

The squeezing contractions deep in her little tummy were just too much for my over-stimulated dick. I blindly grabbed for the child's tiny bottom, wiggled my fingertip into her fluttering little anus and plunged both of us into orgasm. I heaved my clenched butt off the mattress, howling and ejaculating a torrent of long pent-up kiddie sex lust into the child's frantically sucking little cunt as she fell forward onto me, screaming, "Oh, NOOOOO, don't DO IT in me... d- DO it in me... d- DO it in me..." her tiny fingernails digging painfully into my chest as she writhed uncontrollably on the penis that heaved and jerked and ejaculated inside her.

The twin sensations of the child's orgasmic spasms squeezing my squirting dick, and her soft little sphincter muscle pinching and nibbling at my fingertip made the orgasm go on, and on, jerking and thrusting inside the trembling little girl long after my balls were drained and quivering.

My clenched butt finally collapsed down onto the bed and I lay stunned and shaking from the staggering intensity of my orgasm, my whole body glowing as though I'd just been jolted with 1,000 roentgens of gamma radiation.

The child shivered slightly when I unplugged my finger from her quivering little bung hole, but just lay inert atop me, drooling into my chest hairs, her skinny arms and legs draped limply across my body.

I just laid there, too, my chest heaving, trying to force my dazed brain to remember every shockingly obscene detail of my deliciously depraved sexual molestation of this tiny child. My nostrils quivered at the acrid stench of sweat and sperm and child sex that the ceiling fan wafted through the room.

As a chorus of evening cricket chirps stirred outside, I twirled her little pigtails in my fingers, more relaxed and content than I'd ever felt in my life, smiling at the thought that we were 1,000 miles away from the cares of the world, and I was free to do anything I wanted with my shy but willing little daughter in complete privacy.

The little tyke stirred in my arms and muttered something into my chest hairs. "What, little Cathy?" I murmured, stroking her bony, naked back.

"It's still in there," she announced, in her solemn, childish way. I smiled, and my spent dick twitched deep inside her.

"Yes, it is, still nice and deep inside you," I smiled, reaching to cup her tiny peach of a bottom and squeeze playfully, feeling my fingertips moistened where the warm sperm bubbled out of her around the base of my softening dick. "Don't you like it in there, Cathy? Doesn't it feel nice up inside you like that, make you feel so warm and close to your Daddy?"

She just lay there for a long moment, considering the question, then shrugged and mumbled, "But... but it's bad..."

I lifted her head from my chest to gaze into her eyes, and pecked her pouty lips. "Yes, Cathy, it's very bad. But that's why it's so much fun, honey. But we're all alone here, and we can do all kinds of very, very bad things on one will ever know. won't that be fun?"

There was no response to that, so I kissed her again. "How do you feel right now, Cathy? Do you feel nice and warm, and happy?" At this she curled her skinny arms around my neck and nodded.

"So, we'll just do bad things that make us both feel happy, okay?" The contradictory logic of this obviously confused the little girl, but she finally nodded and whispered, "N'kay, Daddy."

I lifted the child's slight body up, to suck my spent dick out of her and it slapped wetly down onto my abdomen, followed by a shockingly copious amount of semen that squirted from her overfilled little hole. The sharp smell of it as it dripped from the child's obscenely dilated hole made her crinkle her little nose, and I anticipated her next comment.

"That's bad," I said, in perfect synch with her words. The corners of her mouth flickered upward, and she shyly giggled, her first genuine grin since we'd arrived in this strange new land.

**********

After bathing away all the reeking evidence of our desperate carnal coupling, we had dinner in the small patio cafe downstairs, Cathy drinking Orangina, me swilling more caiparinhas, trying to quell the nagging feelings of remorse at what I'd done.

The little girl had been mostly silent since our sweaty romp in bed, and I desperately wanted to know what was going on in her head, some sign of her response to it, but my best efforts to break through her resolute wall of silence elicited nothing but nods and head shakes.

By the end of the meal I was feeling as sheepish and shy as the autistic child, as I glanced at her impassive, pouting face and lamely tried to rationalize what I'd done. After all, I hadn't actually raped her. The little tyke had obviously enjoyed the physical pleasure, and she'd very obviously had a gratifying orgasm.

These disturbing thoughts faded as we returned to the suite. The now-familiar evening routine of supervising the child's bedtime preparations -- face washing, tooth cleaning, changing into her little nightie -- had by now become habitual, and automatically switched me from lusting pedophile into my protective, parental mode.

The one unfamiliar aspect of the situation was the giant, king-size bed we were to share. Until now, Cathy had slept alone in her own room. To make this transition a bit less abrupt for her, I tucked her in as always, clutching the little doll she refused to sleep without. I then went to the "living room" of the small suite, closing the bedroom door behind me. I thought it might not be as difficult for her if I crept into bed after she'd fallen asleep. The little kid was a remarkably deep sleeper, and she'd never notice until morning.

I poured a glass of wine from the mini-bar and switched on the TV to kill some time. Channel surfing was pretty useless, with everything in Portuguese, but I eventually found some kind of game show so wacky and tasteless it was like watching a car wreck. A vacuous, gaudily dressed host with about 114 front teeth chattered away incessantly, as half-naked women giggled and leaped around competing to pop balloons scattered around the stage, their great, saggy cow udders bouncing and slapping together as they ran. I laughed myself sick over this tacky trash until I'd finished my wine, and assumed my new little daughter was by now fast asleep.

I usually prefer to sleep naked, but that night I donned a pair of thin cotton pajama shorts, for modesty, so the little girl wouldn't be quite so shocked to find a completely naked man in bed with her when she awoke.

Lying beside the quietly snoring child in the darkness, the disturbing thoughts that plagued me during dinner returned. Yes, she'd tacitly consented to my sexual advances, but, after all, she was only slightly over 8 years old, and autistic as well. How capable was she of giving true "consent"? If incapable of it, what I'd done amounted to rape, whether or not she enjoyed it and had an orgasm.

My mind struggled with rationalizations, trying to justify my behavior, but it was no use. I had to admit to myself that I'd sexually abused an innocent, small child to gratify my depraved needs. I'd wantonly molested my own, trusting little daughter. I'd let my pedosexual lust overrule reason, stripped a helpless, disabled child naked and fucked her until I ejaculated inside her prepubescent little vagina.

My cheeks flushed with remorse, but my dick bloated to full erection in my shorts. My mouth went dry with shock and embarrassment as I realized for the first time that the disgusting nature of what I'd done was so profoundly shameful that it became excruciatingly arousing. Even the shame itself was intensely erotic.

My hand crept to my crotch, lifted the engorged penis free and I shuddered as I slowly stroked it, as a mantra of accusations swirled through my brain. You raped your own little girl, fondled her innocent little body, grunting and sweating your depraved lust, violating her childish, innocent little baby hole...

As if to emphasize these shockingly obscene thoughts and images, my nostrils suddenly quivered at the lingering scent of semen and musky child sex from our earlier coupling, trapped by the stultifying humidity and wafted through the room by the ceiling fan. Unable to control myself, I rolled to my side and clasped the sleeping child to me, panting as I stroked my quivering dick against the soft, cotton nightie.

You sexually molested a shy, trusting, disabled little 8-year-old! You're not ashamed of it! You loved it! my mind screamed at me relentlessly as I tugged the little nightie up to settle my now leaking dick into the warm cleft between her tiny peach cheeks.

I reached around to tug the little doll from her grasp, slipped down the shoulder straps of her nightie and shuddered as I curled my palm into her pale chest to savor the miniature nipples that so emphasized her childish innocence.

Memories of the little girl's pouting face and timid, childish voice as she whimpered, "No, no, Daddy, don't USE me!" flooded my overwhelmed brain as I frenziedly fondled and fucked the sleeping child's soft little butt crack...

"No, Daddy, don't DO IT in me..." the words echoed in my mind as I grunted under my breath, "G- ghod, yes... YES... so f- fucking n- nasty... using Daddy's little girl... so f- fucking... FILTHY!"

The torrent of sperm blasted from my over-stimulated dick as I whimpered with lust, helplessly hunching and squirting uncontrollably until the child's narrow back was slimy and dripping. I lay still for a moment, gasping and gently stroking my spent penis in the warm goo puddled between my little daughter's bottom cheeks, then uncurled my tensed fingers from her flat chest and tugged the little shoulder straps back in place.

I dragged myself from the bed and went for a damp washcloth. When I returned I was glad to find the little girl still slumbering peacefully, curled onto her side and contentedly sucking her thumb. I mopped up the reeking mess dripping down her back, patted her dry with a towel, then tugged the little nightie back down to chastely cover her tiny bottom, so pale it was almost glowing in the dim light.

My stunning orgasm, and another glass of wine, finally banished the evil demons in my brain and I tip-toed back to bed, for a night of fitful sleep punctuated by delicious and troubling dreams.

**********

The day dawned hot and sunny, so I suggested a trip to the beach, to give little Cathy a closer view of an ocean she'd never seen. To avoid the raucous crowds of Copacabana, I chose a more secluded and sedate beach a few miles south. Although it was smaller and more sparsely populated, the place was still a visual feast, with nearly nude bodies lounging in the sun, and completely naked children gamboling about.

Among her other travel clothes I'd bought Cathy a swimsuit, a pink one-piece featuring a Little Princess cartoon, because I wanted to protect as much of her porcelain-pale skin from the burning sun as possible. It took a bit of explanation to convince her why she shouldn't run around naked like the "bad girls" she kept pointing out, and objected to the icky sunscreen I slathered all over her exposed skin, but I distracted her by leading her to the water's edge, to stare with awe and wonder at the waves crashing ashore.

She scampered to hide behind me, gripping my thigh with tensed fingers, terrified. Little by little I reassured her that it was safe, and managed to cajole her into dipping her toe into the inch-deep backwash as it surged toward us.

"It's cold," she pouted.

"No, no, it's really warm, when you get in," I smiled. "Come on, let's try it. I'll carry you, promise I won't let go, and if you want to get out, we'll just go, okay?"

Many long minutes later she was cradled in my arms as I stood in chest-deep water, playfully dipping her tiny bottom to let her acclimate slowly, as she scowled and complained. When finally fully immersed in the warm, South Atlantic seawater, her scowl softened into a shy smile.

"See? It feels nice, doesn't it?" I grinned as I held her by her armpits, her little feet bumping my knees underwater. I playfully jerked her up to toss her, and she giggled delightedly, her little tongue poking through the gummy gap where she'd lost a baby tooth.

Reaching to toss her again, my eyes widened as I saw her tiny nipples, puckered into stiff little pebbles by the cool water, flanking the smiling Little Mermaid face on her flat chest. They weren't just little bumps beneath the fabric. Her nipples were clearly visible, even the dark brown pigment and wrinkled texture of them.

The water had rendered the swimsuit fabric completely transparent. Smiling nervously to mask my shock, I lifted the child out of the water again and glanced down to see her puffy little pussy lips clearly displayed beneath the transparent crotch. What the hell? I playfully whirled her around in the water and peeled the scooped neck open to see the label, groaning as I read "Leotard, Size 4, 100% cotton."

Shit. Clearly I was woefully inexperienced at parenting. I'd stupidly bought a leotard, thinking it was a swimsuit. But, hell, the thing LOOKED like a one-piece swimsuit in the store. Damn.

So, suddenly I was frolicking in the water with a pretty-much naked 8-year-old. The giggling child was oblivious, of course, and no one else could tell as long as we stayed in the water, but I had an embarrassing dilemma on my hands. Then again... who would care, on this beach, where naked kids romped around every day?

That thought calmed me down and I resumed our play, splashing and tossing her in the air until she grew tired and threw her skinny arms around my neck to rest, giggling and gasping for breath. She curled her stumpy legs around me for support as I cupped my hand around her miniature bottom to hold her by her soft crotch, kneading it and pulling her close to stroke her stiff, tiny nipples into my chest hairs.

The warm water and sunshine lulled me into a state of blissful contentment as I clasped the effectively naked child to my body. The little girl stopped giggling and lapsed into silence as she felt my fingers creep beneath the flimsy cotton crotch to stroke and tease her delicate little pussy lips beneath the water.

My dick began to thicken in my trunks and I languidly stroked the thing against her soft calf as I squeezed the child's tiny bottom and fondled her little sex. "Do you like being Daddy's little girl, Cathy?" I breathed in her ear as I hugged her and stroked my finger in the warm little cleft. Her head dropped heavily against my chest. "You... you're touchin' it again, Daddy," she whispered into my chest hairs.

"Yes, Cathy... Daddy loves to touch his little girl like this," I murmured as the warm waves slapped against us. "It's even more bad and exciting when I touch you like this in public, isn't it, Cathy?" The little girl just nodded, shyly, her dripping pigtails swinging.

"Will you be a bad girl for Daddy, Cathy?" I whispered, tugging one skinny arm from around my neck and dipping her hand down into my trunks. "Will you touch me, like I'm touching you?" I murmured, curling her tiny fingers around my now completely engorged dick.

She froze and sucked in her breath sharply in shock. "N- NO, Daddy, that's... bad... I'm not s'posed to... touch it," she whimpered as I felt her tiny fingers begin to gently tug and squeeze the thick meat in her hand. I glanced quickly around to make sure we weren't being observed then, with my free hand, reached to tug the waistband of my trunks down beneath my balls, giving the child complete access to my tumescent penis.

"Yes, th- that's it, little Cathy... touch it... feel it... play with it, honey," I panted, wildly aroused by the child's warm little fingers roaming up and down the straining shaft, stroking and squeezing, even more wildly aroused by the sensation of the little girl masturbating me beneath the water where I could feel, but not see the obscene act.

Clearly, her departed Daddy had taught her well. She'd stroke slowly up and down the length of my dick, then squeeze the head firmly, then glide down to curl her tiny fingers into the hairs of my balls and roll them gently before resuming her deliciously slow stroking.

"Oh, yeah... oh, yes, Cathy... f- feel Daddy, j- just like that... oh, Cathy is such a b- bad little girl," I babbled, my knees beginning to tremble as I hunched my throbbing penis into the child's clutching little fingers.

Fondling the child's little pussy as she masturbated me in a public place, with the shrill squeals of happily playing children ringing in my ears made the sap rise fast. "D- do you want to feel Daddy DO IT, little Cathy?" I gasped, wildly reaching down to wrap both little hands around the fat head of my dick.

"F- feel it... f- feel Daddy... d- d- DO IT!" I grunted in a cracking voice as the sperm gushed and squirted into her squeezing little fingers. The obviously skilled child just kept stroking and squeezing gently until my balls were drained and my spent dick trembled and jerked gratefully in her warm little hands.

I glanced around again, nervously, then grabbed her damp pigtails to crush my mouth into hers, moaning deeply into her mouth as she kept gently stroking me beneath the water, coaxing little post-orgasmic aftershocks of semen to dribble into her tiny hands. I finally broke the long kiss and pulled her head to my chest, gasping, as she calmly wiped her slimy hands on her little pink leotard.

"Oh, baby... oh, little baby... do you know how much Daddy loves you, sweet little Cathy?" I gasped, running my fingers through the child's silky, wet hair. She didn't reply, but craned her head back to look up at me with wide, innocent eyes, nodded solemnly, then curled her lips up in a shy flicker of a smile and dropped her head back against my chest.

**********

I shielded Cathy's almost completely exposed body with my own as we waded out of the surf to flop down on the beach towel, hoping that the bright sun would soon dry her leotard so that it was no longer totally transparent.

The little girl spread herself out on the towel, basking in the warm sunshine, stretched languidly and soon fell asleep. Lying beside her, propped up on an elbow, I surveyed her frail, doll-like body, ruddy brown nipplets and primly pressed together little pussy lips.

Completely sated by my underwater orgasm, I marveled at my outrageous fortune at finding this astonishing child, and managing to make her my own. It was more bewildering and gratifying than winning a billion-dollar lottery. After the moral and ethical wrestling match in my head yesterday, I'd made peace with the fact that I could simultaneously love and care for the child as my own daughter, while still enjoying her as an innocent little pedophile sex toy; that these wildly disparate roles were not mutually exclusive.

After the sun had dried her flimsy garment enough for modesty we drove back to the hotel. I suggested a shower, to rinse off the salty seawater, and the little girl yelped sharply and began to cry when she started to peel off her leotard. My mouth dropped open in shock when I saw her angry pink flesh. It was like a negative image of a classic sunburn -- her arms and legs were pale, but her entire torso in front was badly burned.

Suddenly I realized why. I'd carefully slathered her with SPF ten-million sunscreen, to protect her porcelain-pale skin -- but hadn't realized at the time that she wasn't wearing a protective swimsuit. So her face, arms and legs had been protected, but the flimsy cotton leotard I'd stupidly bought her let the U/V rays blast right through, offering about as much protection as a screen door in a hurricane.

I immersed her in a tub of cool water and dashed out to a pharmacy for aspirin and aloe-vera jell. She whimpered and sobbed as I carefully massaged the soothing emollient into her painfully seared flesh, the tiny nipples and angry pink pussy lips most sensitive of all.

In her current condition there was no possibility of any sexual intimacy, so I rented a car and we spent the next few days touring the bustling city and lush, thickly forested countryside. Cathy took all this in with mostly wide-eyed, silent fascination but, bit by bit, she began to be slightly less averse to verbal communication. She was still painfully shy -- still insisted on bathing alone, and made eye contact only rarely -- but once in a while would speak a complete sentence, rather than a only a curt word or phrase. And, little by little, I began to get to know my new daughter.

In the evenings after dinner she'd often watch incomprehensible Portuguese TV shows or movies, while I read a book or checked email correspondence. Cathy seemed fascinated with the TV programs. One evening she burst into hysterical giggles at something, so I looked up to ask what was so funny.

"That girl is silly," she giggled. "She says rilly stoopid things!"

I glanced up to see a pretty little girl about 7 years old riding in the passenger seat of a car, chattering animatedly at the man driving, in rapid-fire Portuguese.

"Uh... Cathy, can you understand what she's saying?" I asked, incredulously. Staring at the TV she just nodded, pointed and burst again into giggles.

"That's her uncle, and he really likes her a lot, but she don't know, she's stoopid!" the child chuckled.

What the hell? Cathy was 8 years old. She'd never been abroad, never even left her Midwestern home town, as far as I knew. I'd heard that autistic kids sometimes can have astonishing abilities, but had this little tyke managed to learn a new language within a week?

I watched with more interest as the man spoke, and the camera switched to a closeup view of his hand reaching to curl around the child's slender thigh. I reached for the remote and punched up the program guide to display "Amigo Especial de Pequena Maria."

"Can you read it, too, Cathy?" I asked. She nodded. "It's a movie. Little Maria's Special Friend."

I closed my book and put it down as the man continued to talk to the little actress, the camera alternating between her grinning, lightly freckled face and the man's hand moving higher up her skinny thigh.

"They're goin' on a picnic," Cathy announced as the car turned off the road to a rutted dirt road and wended its way through a thickly forested area, finally stopping in a small clearing. The scene time shifted to show a blanket spread on the grass, surrounded by a half-eaten loaf of bread, a bowl of olives and two empty soda bottles. The man was smiling and beckoning to the child, who nodded and climbed into his lap, grinning. He pointed up at a tree and the child followed his gaze as his other hand crept around to clasp her flat chest.

"He's tellin' her about the birds that live there," Cathy announced as the man's hand slowly stroked the little girl's chest. The man made a squawking noise, flapping his hand in the air and the child giggled as his other hand fell to stroke the inside of her widely spread thigh and slowly creep beneath her skirt.

My long-denied dick stirred in my pants as I watched "Little Maria's Special Friend" cunningly distract the child as he seduced her, with closeup shots of his obviously nervous face as he chattered away, juxtaposed with lingering shots of his hand moving slowly beneath her pleated skirt.

"Well, let's watch the movie together, okay, Cathy?" I said, shifting to sit beside the little girl on the sofa and draping my arm across her bony shoulders to draw her close. She nodded and happily snuggled up next to me, wincing slightly as I cupped my hand around her still tender little tummy.

By now my dick was fully engorged and aching in my pants for the satisfaction I'd been denied for so many days, and I had to fight the urge to fondle my little daughter in the same way as the actor on screen. It was out of the question. The serious sunburn hadn't completely subsided and her little pussy was still far too tender.

On screen, the camera work shifted into "euphemism" mode, showing the man's lips kissing the top of the child's head, a closeup of his hand unfastening a button of her chaste, white blouse, a closeup of her freckled face as she looked up trustingly into his eyes while his large hand twirled her pigtail.

Suddenly the screen was filled with a bright banner that said "Assista a emocionante conclusão do Amigo Especial de Pequena Maria na próxima semana!"

"AW, they're gonna show the rest next week," little Cathy pouted, kicking her shoes against the sofa in frustration as brief teaser clips scrolled across the screen -- a closeup of the man's hand untying her shoelace, a closeup of tiny white panties lying on the picnic blanket, a long silhouette shot of a large man embracing a small child against the leafy backdrop of forest.

I reached to mute the blaring music as credits crawled, and Cathy mewed and winced again as my hand brushed her tender tummy. "Oh, I'm sorry, honey," I whispered, quickly jerking my hand away. "You're still hurting down there, aren't you?"

She ducked her head and nodded. Inspiration struck.

"Cathy, I know a way we might make it feel better, would you like that?" She nodded again, squirming irritably on the sofa. I shifted, tossed a couple pillows out of the way and stretched her out on her back on the sofa, lifting the hem of her dress up to expose her pink tummy.

"Now, just relax," I murmured, bending to blow lightly on the tender flesh, tracing cool air up, down and around her belly button. "Does that make it better?" The little girl nodded, "Uh-huh," staring up at the ceiling as I resumed blowing.

She jerked in surprise as I bent to flatten my tongue and draw it across her tummy, moistening it with my saliva, to enhance the convective cooling effect as I resumed blowing. She shivered slightly and whispered, "ooo, yeah, dass better..."

My stiff dick drooled in my shorts as I drew the tiny cartoon panties down to lick and blow lower, down across her sharp little pubic bone. I touched the moist tip of my tongue as gently as possible to the soft cleft between her puffy, pink-tinged pussy lips and the little girl shivered again as the cool air soothed her tender flesh and stimulated the little sexual organ coyly hidden beneath the tiny lips.

"Cathy, why don't you take off your dress, honey, so I can do your chest. It hurts, too, doesn't it?"

The child nodded and crawled off the sofa to slip off the dress, kick off her shoes and discard the tiny panties halfway down her willowy legs. I did the same, so we were both naked as I laid her back down to resume licking her feverish little body, my aching dick dripping on the sofa beneath me.

After laving her chest and tummy with the cooling saliva, I moved back down to gently work my tongue into the soft little sex cleft I ached to explore. She tensed and whimpered softly, but relaxed and sighed as my tongue dipped beneath the sunburned vulva flesh to find the moist erectile tissue inside now sensitive in a different way.

Her legs went limp and her tiny bottom began to rotate slowly as my sexual stimulation slowly surpassed and overcame the sunburn pain. When I heard the little girl begin panting quietly and felt her tiny fingers curling into my hair, I decided to take it a step further.

I crawled off the sofa and lifted the limp little girl into my arms, which didn't hurt because the sun's rays fortunately had only scorched the front of her body. I carried her to the big bed, laid down on my back and draped the naked child over me, her delicate crotch straddling my face, my rampant dick pressed against her porcelain cheek.

"Cathy, Daddy's hurting, too, honey," I breathed into her drooling little hole. "Can... can you make Daddy feel better, like... like I'm helping you? Do you know how to make Daddy feel better?"

Staring into the child's wet crotch, I couldn't see her face, but I felt her soft pigtails tickle the hairs of my abdomen as she nodded.

"In my mouth, Daddy?" she whispered quietly.

"Yes... y- yes, baby, in your... your little mouth," I huffed, every molecule in my body straining in desperate anticipation.

I felt her tiny fingers curl around the thick shaft and the eyes rolled while in my head as I felt her wet lips glide over the bulbous dick head and suck it in until the sensitive underside was plastered against the roof of her mouth, and her soft little tongue began gently swirling and licking.

I groaned heavily and plunged my engorged tongue into the child's juicy little vagina, sucking the musky goo into my mouth and whimpering with lust at the deliciously pungent taste of female child sex I'd anticipated for so many days.

"Oh... oh, a-a-a-a-aOOOOOOmmmmm," the little girl moaned onto my quivering penis as she felt me stirring my tongue deep in her needy little hole, gripping the base of my dick with both tiny hands, her soft pigtails tickling my abdomen as she bobbed her head and raked my stiff meat with her crooked little teeth.

"Mph... Mmmmph... MMMMmmmph..." the child grunted on the dick deeply plugged into her little mouth as she sucked and ground her tender crotch into my face to urge my licking tongue deeper inside her body.

She was shaking and trembling now, clearly on the verge of orgasm, so was I, so I licked my index finger to tease the fingertip at her winking little anus and intensify her climax as I licked her into kiddie Never-Never Land.

But at the touch of my finger the child suddenly spat out my straining dick, pre-cum and saliva dripping from her lips as she whined, "No, Daddy, not there... don't... don't do it in my... in my doggy hole..."

My body stiffened and a warm runnel of pre-cum drooled down my straining dick at the child's words.

"C- Cathy, I... is... is this your little... doggy hole, honey?" I gasped, wiggling my wet finger half an inch into her puckered anus. "You... don't want me to... do it in here, Cathy?"

The little girl shivered and reflexively squeezed the base of my dick with her fingers. "No, no, thass... thass too nasty, Daddy, don't do it in there..."

Intoxicated by kiddie sex lust, my overwhelmed brain desperately wanted to interpret that as an invitation. After all, I rationalized, that and her mouth were the only uninjured parts of her body I could use at present. But I had to be sure. I slowly worked my wet finger in to the last knuckle, to gauge her reaction, but the child just shivered slightly.

"In here, Cathy?" I panted, gently wiggling my thick finger deep in her clutching rectum. The kid just nodded. "Yeah... not... in my doggy hole, Daddy..."

Just the thought of the disgusting act was almost enough to make me squirt in the child's face, but I managed to quell the urge. I climbed out of bed, sweating profusely as I grabbed two thick sofa cushions and slapped them on the edge of the bed, then draped the child's limp body over them with her stumpy legs dangling a foot from the floor.

"Ohgod, c- can I do this, little Cathy? Are you sure, honey?" I panted as I stepped behind her and stroked my bulging dick head up and down between the pale, unripe peaches of her tiny bottom. The child didn't respond, just lay there, waiting, as I spat a puddle of saliva into my palm, slathered it down the rigid shaft and pressed it to the puckered, brown hole winking up at me.

"Oh, ghod... oh... my... ghoddd..." I gasped as my disbelieving eyes watched the child's tiny anus dilate to swallow the thick meat, inch by inch, until my balls flattened against her soft bottom.

The kid grunted quietly when my dick bottomed out inside her and I gripped her miniature butt cheeks with clenched fingers, drooling pre-cum and trying to stave off orgasm as her hot little rectum pinched and squeezed my throbbing dick almost painfully.

I slowly dragged my wet penis out to the tip, looking down to watch the shockingly depraved sight of the child's obscenely dilated little butt hole swallow the thing whole. She just grunted again, quietly, bunching up the bedspread in tensed little fingers.

when she didn't cry or object, I groaned loudly, gripped her skinny, boyish waist and began slowly reaming the little bung hole, my ears tingling at the sound of my swinging balls slapping wetly against her tender bottom, my nose hairs quivering at the faint scent of child shit as I withdrew my wet penis and thrusted it back inside the limp little girl.

"G- ghod, yeah, little Cathy it's... is so nasty... so... f- fucking NASTY," I panted, stopping at full penetration to grit my teeth and grind my straining dick from side to side in the depths of her warm, clutching little rectum.

The outrageous depravity of butt-fucking a frail little 8-year-old seemed to make my dick grow two inches longer; made it feel as though it had never been so thickly engorged in my life; made me feel as though I'd never penetrated anyone or anything so deeply and completely, as I gritted my teeth and crushed my scrotum into her soft bottom, grinding and mentally visualizing the expanding penis inside her, bloating and lengthening and penetrating up to and beyond her tiny belly button.

I began shaking hard, approaching climax, fucking the little girl more urgently, making her pigtails bounce on the bed, and she began making quiet noises, barely audible with her cheek pressed deeply into the bedspread.

"Wh- what, C- Cathy?" I gasped as I sweated and rutted toward orgasm inside her. "Did you say something, honey?"

"Arf... arf... arf... arf..." she gasped, in time with my desperate hunching. "I... I'm your d- doggy, D- Daddy," she stammered, her words made staccato by the desperate plunges that bounced her whole body on the bed. "You g- gonna d- do it in my d- doggy hole... Arf... arf... arf... arf..."

I lunged into her and howled as my over-stimulated penis erupted a torrent of sperm that must have blasted two feet up into the child's squeezing colon, shaking and whimpering with shameless lust as my straining dick heaved and jerked and emptied my quivering balls into the obediently barking little 8-year-old beneath me.

My knees nearly buckled from the force of my stunning orgasm and I fell forward onto the little girl, gasping and drooling into her silky black hair. The child's tensed fingers uncurled from the balls of bedspread she'd been clutching and she just lay quietly beneath me, waiting for me to finish, as my spent dick quivered and twitched in the warm, spermy depths of her clutching rectum.

The familiar sense of deep shame welled in the pit of my gut as I finally dragged the length of my wet penis out of the little girl, and watched the stinking semen dripping from her obscenely dilated little asshole. But my still depraved mind couldn't help but wonder how many other secret joys this astonishing little child might be eager to share with a loving parent but, carefully hidden by her shy reticence, had yet to be discovered.

**********

As the warm days and warmer nights passed, I began idly browsing real-estate ads, toying with the idea of a permanent move to this effortlessly comfortable place after the adoption was finalized. I could continue to raise, and use, my little girl in peace here. And, possibly, the clever little tyke might teach me even more than I could teach her. In Portuguese, as well.

I put in a few email queries about modest homes I might be able to afford without undue strain. One evening, checking for replies, I was surprised to see a message from my former law partner. Subject line "Urgent."

"Walter, where are you?" the message said, in his typically terse style. "Adoption agency doesn't know. Having a cow. Cathy's dad showed up. Demands the kid and the settlement money. I had our Pinkerton Proxies check him out for you, but he's clean. No traction there. Doesn't look good. Call ASAP."

After I nearly burned out my Skype app over days of fruitless calls, Cathy and I sadly boarded a plane. As expected, there was little I could do when we returned. For the first time in my life I considered a last-resort call to one of the seamier kinds of people I'd had to deal with a few times in the past. But I just couldn't.

A quick court hearing on a sweltering August day was the last time I saw my once, and only, daughter. Cathy was, and will probably remain, the true love of my life. Of all my sweet memories of her, the most compelling will forever be the sadly solemn look on her face as she waved bye-bye --still clutching her favorite little doll she'd been given on the day we first met.

End