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A longtime friend of mine is a child psychologist, a lady with whom I have enjoyed countless hours of discussions about children. My friend, who grew up in the same era as I, is a really smart lady, degrees from Harvard and so on, who has worked diligently throughout her career to stay abreast of her field, her success in doing so being reflected in the fact that rarely is there a major symposium or conference for which she is not one of the featured speakers.
Personally, I appreciate her for her openness and honesty, and in turn, she appreciates the deep affection I have for little girls, knowing full well that I fall victim, as all men do, to the sexual allure of the little vixen. In almost every regard, I have always been most open with her, sharing even details of my fetish with nylon panties (she said I am the only man she knows who, when he says he wants in her panties, means he wants to wear them). In all of our discussions, in fact, about the only time that I felt my friend's lower parts might be getting moist was when I told her of my sister and her friends' penchant for using me as their little dress-up girl doll in my childhood. As to my actual activities with little girls throughout my adult years, I have chosen not to discuss them, not so much out of concern for her judging me as that it might put her in an awkward position which could impact our friendship. She would not be overly distressed to hear, I know, because from long years of knowing me she knows full well I am incapable of harming a child.
My friend has a daughter some years behind my daughters, and as her daughter grew, a recurring topic of our conversation regarded how I had chosen to deal with sexual matters with my daughters, particularly the father-daughter aspect. In truth, as I told her, being a father can create an uncomfortable feeling in that regard; as they grow daughters offer themselves over and over to their father, if the relationship is good and healthy, and it is the father whose role it is to show their daughters how the male of the species responds to the female. Although I cannot say I see anything inherently wrong in sex play between fathers and daughters, I simply never felt comfortable enough to become involved myself. My friend and her husband chose a more open route with their daughter that included both frank discussions of sex and play sex, at least up to some level. Both her daughter and my two ended up fine adults, so my thought is that neither one of our approaches must have been too awfully wrong. The fact that her husband, the girl's father, could achieve an erection so rapidly in front of his daughter confirmed for my friend the strength of the sexual allure little girls have over men.
One area over which my friend and I did experience some disagreement involved the suitable age for a girl to begin play sex, and this came to light when my friend encountered a four-year old patient who masturbated continuously. In the waiting room, the little girl humped the arms of chairs, if the mother picked her up she would hump her mother's leg, if she put her down she would hump the leg of any man sitting in the room, and if forced to sit flat in a chair she would stick her hand in her panties and finger herself. As it happens, this was the second such case my friend had treated of impulse control disorder, a fairly common malady with children, but with sexual focus, which is a little more rare, and she attributed it, the sexual focus, to the early introduction of play sex. I disagreed completely, but it was difficult to make the case for my argument without discussing my experiences with little girls.
An example I can provide for the reader occurred not so very long ago with a lifelong friend's granddaughter, Gretchen. From the birth of the girl until around age six, my friend and I lived nearby one another, and it was not uncommon for his daughter, a professional career lady, to leave the little girl at his house when she traveled. From time to time, with the child in his care, my friend, then a practicing attorney, would be called away on overnight business, and in those instances, I would take care of the little girl in his absence. His daughter, the girl's mother, has known me all her life and thinks of me as part of the family so this never presented a problem for her. Likewise, I have known the little girl all her life and she loves me and has always been totally comfortable with me. I use present tense because we remain close even though we no longer live near one another.
On an occasion of her sleeping over with me, as part of the process of settling her down for bed, then four-year old little Gretchen was lying nestled in my lap as we sat rocking in my big, soft lounge chair, wearing her nightgown with an arm around her favorite doll and her thumb in her mouth as we watched one of her children's movies, when I glanced down to see her absent-mindedly rubbing her crotch with the fingernail of her thumb. I asked if her bottom had an itch, thinking it may need an ointment. Focused on the movie, her only answer was to pull my hand down between her legs, pushing the palm side of my fingers up into her crotch, obviously intending me to take over the scratching duties there. I began lightly scratching the crotch of her panties with the fingernails of my fingers and she curled her arm back up around the doll and squirmed into me a little more closely, an indication that I was indeed doing what she wanted me to.
I had not thought of her in sexual terms to this point, and honestly the thought still did not occur to me as I began scratching her little crotch. But she was wearing nylon panties, and nylon panties being such a turn-on for me, I soon found my middle finger thoughtlessly beginning to push a little harder up into her little slit. It only took a couple of minutes before I began to feel dampness on my finger as it stroked more and more firmly into her little snatch, so I leaned my head next to her ear and whispered, "Does my finger feel good down there, Gretchen?"
Without taking her eyes off the movie, she nodded her head yes. By now my cock was rock hard, but it was down my pants leg, very uncomfortable, so I reached under her to pull it up against my belly. Feeling its warm hardness under her, without taking her eyes off the movie, she pulled her thumb out to ask, "Is that your pee-pee, Uncle Jimmy?" (Yes, even my friends' kids have always called me "Uncle Jimmy." Gretchen calls me by that name because her mother does.)
I whispered in her ear, "Yes. Is that okay?" Her thumb had returned to her mouth as she nodded that it was. Then she reached her hand under her butt, fingers wrapping around my cock to pull it into a more comfortable position before returning back up to her doll. "It's big and hot," she said, then settled back down with thumb in mouth.
I pushed backward for the seat of my easy chair to incline more so I could pull her around enough to get my hand inside the waist band of her panties and stroke her little slit directly. It felt nice as I stroked it, warm and wet and slippery. Continuing to watch the movie intently, she lifted a knee up, placing a foot on my leg and dropping the knee over so it opened her crotch to my hand in her panties. My finger felt the firm, swollen little nub of her clit as I continued to stroke her. Looking down, I could see her eyes were glazing into the look of sexual stimulation I have seen often in little girls.
After perhaps five to ten minutes, I felt her little hips began to move with my finger. It always amazes me that even a four-year old instinctively knows the fucking motion when she gets sufficiently hot. A few more minutes and I could feel her first orgasm welling up inside of her as her hips moved more sharply now into my finger. Then I felt a slight tremble as her body went rigid. Looking down, her thumb was still between her teeth but now her eyes, still glued to the screen, bulged slightly and I could see dew on her upper lip. She was shaking gently as her body began to relax a little, but I kept up the stroking and soon a second orgasm washed over her. This time she went completely limp when it ended, her head falling on my chest, and I knew that was enough for now. "Are you ready for bed now, baby?" I whispered, and she nodded yes. I carried her into bed, and I think she was asleep before her head hit the pillow. I satisfied myself by laying her on her side, back facing me, lifting her top leg so I could insert my cock between her thighs and, holding it tight against her little pussy, play fuck her to my own orgasm.
The next morning I awoke to find Gretchen under the covers, her little fingers examining my half-swollen cock. I pulled her up to lie on my chest, saying good morning as I gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, not mentioning what she had been doing. "Do you feel good this morning, honey?" I asked. She giggled, vigorously shaking her head yes as she wrapped her little arms tightly around my neck. Reaching down, I pulled her nightgown up to use my hands on her hips to center her on top of me, her legs dangling between mine. My fingers wrapped around her little butt cheeks through her panties as I asked, "How would you like to learn how to kiss like a big girl, Gretchen?"
She took to French kissing like a little slut, and in no time my cock was rock hard and I pushed her dangling legs back up on mine, squeezing my cock between her legs. She giggled. "I feel your pee-pee, Uncle Jimmy," she said. "It's big and hot again."
"That's because it thinks you're sexy," I said.
"Really," she exclaimed, her eyes wide with innocence. She giggled naughtily.
Laughing I lifted her up to sit beside me while I kicked off my pajama bottoms, stacked the pillows against the headboard, scooted myself up, and sat her down between my legs. "Why don't you play with it, sexy girl?" I asked. It was not long before her fingers had explored every part and her tongue was licking it. Taking her head into my hands, I pushed her mouth down on to it. "Suck on it Gretchen, okay? That feels good to Uncle Jimmy," I said. Her mouth was shut tight as I fitted it between her lips, so I asked, "Do you want to suck on it, honey?"
She giggled. "Yeah," she said, and her little hands came up to wrap around the shaft and she was pumping it as deep inside her little mouth as she could.
"In a minute I'm going to cum, baby. You'll feel some hot, salty juice squirt into your mouth, and you'll have to swallow really, really fast to keep up with it, okay?" I said.
Her little head jerked up, startled eyes looking at me. I laughed, pushing her head back down as I told her, "Don't worry, honey. It won't hurt you. Big girls do it all the time." She nodded her assent. "I'll tell you when to get ready to start swallowing, okay?" I added. Again, she nodded okay as her head bobbed up and down my shaft.
After a few minutes, I said, "Okay, get ready to swallow, baby. I'm about to cum now." As the first load surged through my cock and into her mouth, I said, "Here it is, baby, swallow hard now, swallow hard," and I could see her began gulping it down. "Here it comes again," I said as the next load rose up through my cock, "swallow, keep swallowing." She was doing a good job, with very little cum running down my shaft. I finished after five or six loads and let her sit back up. Her eyes were wide with excitement and confusion at what had just happened. Laughing, I said, "You did great, Gretchen, just like a big girl." Using my finger to swab the cum left around her little lips into her mouth, I asked, "Was that fun?"
Gagging a little, she said, "It tastes awful!" and coughed.
I laughed again. "You'll get used to it," I said. "Now Uncle Jimmy is going to make his little lover feel really, really good like you felt last night. Do you remember how good your bottom felt last night?"
She grinned. "Yeah, that felt really, really good, Uncle Jimmy," she said.
"Well, Uncle Jimmy is going to make your bottom feel even better this morning," I said. "Would you like that?"
Her eyes were wide with excitement as she giggled, "Yeah." I laid her head on my pillow, pulled off her panties and stuck my tongue inside her already wet, little slit. In no time, her little hips were bucking into my tongue as the biggest orgasm of her young life began to take hold of her.
From then on, Gretchen begged her mother to let her stay at my house, and when she was allowed, we exhausted one another. Her parents moved when she was six, and since then I have only been able to see her a few times, never with the opportunity to further our sex play.
Sex was a game we played, not unlike any of the other games we played when we were together, and Gretchen has never developed any manner of impulse control disorder. I could give at least another half dozen similar examples of three- to five-year olds, all of whom had no negative reactions to play sex.
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