It was my doing altogether. Yes, it could have never happened if my father had stopped it.

My mother died when I was six. Daddy took it hard. I could hear him weeping alone in his bed at night. I don't know what I felt. I guess I was in shock, not letting myself grieve. I had been proud of sleeping in my own bed, but now I felt uneasy, scared as a matter of fact.

It began on a night when we had a large thunder storm, or rather, a series of them, sweeping through the area. I hated thunder storms. I always crawled into bed durning storms when mother was alive, and without thinking I did this time also.

"Daddy, I'm really scared," I said as I scooted under the covers. Daddy made room for me. Don't be afraid Kitten, It's alright." The thunder ratlled the window glass and each time the room lit up with the flash of lighting, I pushed closer to Daddy.

I could feel Daddy's warm body next to mine. He was wearing his cotten boxer shorts and I only had my panties on. The storm passed and I fell asleep. I woke up just as it was getting light. I cuddled with Daddy and felt his hard penis against my backside. He was sound asleep. I rested, pushing my little backside against him. The feeling moved through me like a wave.

I knew about sex, how when a man's penis got hard he could push it into a girl's vagina and make babies. While I didn't have it all down, I knew alot for a six year old.

I had come across a dog-eared copy of "The Joy of Sex" on one of the higher bookselves in Daddy's den. I stood on a chair one day and looked, knowing, that the books I was not supposed to read were up high. I don'r think Daddy ever noticed that it was missing. There was a lot of dust on the books on the top shelf.

That summer we had alot of storms, and I spent more nights in bed with Daddy until it was all the time. I don't know what Daddy thought at the time, but I think deep down, he was glad for the company.

On night I woke up in the middle of the night, the weather, having changed, I snuggled against Daddy. Daddy's penis was hard and it poked through the fly in his shorts. I lifed the covers and by the glow of the night light, I studied his erection. I knew it was called a cock and he had a boner, but I was proud I used the "correct" terms at that time.

I very carfully put my little hand on this big erection. The skin, especially, the top, felt velvety smooth. I gently rubbed my hand up and down, like I had seen in the book. He grouned and pushed against my hand. I stopped, scared, that he would wake up.

Daddy called out mother's name and pushed harder against the bed, my hand gently tugging his cock until he grunted, his whole body, ridged and came into my waiting hand. I carfully moved toward the edge of the bed while putting my hand in my mouth. I didn't want him to see what I had done.

I don't know what I expected it to taste like, but I liked the salty, sour taste almost immediatedly.

Daddy had rolled over away from me and gotten out of bed. He stopped in front of me, and I opened my eyes, pretending to be more asleep than I really was.

"Are you awake Kitten?" he asked. I mumbled into the pillow. Satified that his cries when he came did not awake me he padded off the the bathroom.

I licked my lips savoring the takes of my father's cum on my tongue. I rubbed my pussy gently until I fell back to sleep.