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From: "Frank McCoy" <mccoyf@millcomm.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} :*NEW*  "Daddy, Please?" [2/?] (Mg, incest, cons, pedo, serial?)
X-Original-Subject: :*NEW*: DADYPLES.TXT "Daddy, Please?" [2/?] (Mg, incest, cons, pedo, serial?)
Date: Sun, 20 May 2001 21:10:02 -0400
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                         Daddy, Please?
                         An Erotic Story
                           (Part-2)

     I was just starting to ease down from one of the most 
incredible sex-experiences of my life, where my own baby girl 
gave me about the best blow-job I'd ever gotten.  (No, as blow-
jobs go, Sandy's inexperience would normally have placed her on 
the BOTTOM of the list for technique and ability.  Several times 
she had accidentally caught the glans of my prick with her teeth, 
and twice she had almost gagged while actually seeming to TRY to 
deep-throat me, in a manner that even women three times her age 
would be hard-put to do.  No, what made the sex so good, was 
first, it was my own little girl ... the one I would do ANYTHING 
for, except hurt somebody else.  Second, it was her enthusiasm.  
Sandy didn't do the blow-job to impress anybody.  She didn't do 
it for money, fame, or as a duty.  Sandy did it because she LIKED 
me, her own father, wanted me to feel good, and [unbelievable as 
it seemed at first] because she LIKED to do it.)  Sex, ANY sex, 
is wonderful, unless one person is forcing another.  Then it's 
horror incarnate.  That's the main reason I had been so reluctant 
to give in to my little girl's request.  I was afraid she was 
being pressured somehow into doing this ... by my wife, by some 
girlfriend (Little girls CAN be quite nasty and catty at times.) 
or (worst of all) by some unspeakable pervert who had some 
terrible hold over her.  Once it became crystal clear that Sandy 
really wanted to do this ON HER OWN, without somebody forcing her 
to do it, then it became impossible for me to resist ... or to 
enjoy far more than a man ever should enjoy molesting his little 
girl.
     Which brought up the next point.  WHO was the Son-of-a-
BITCH, who had taught my innocent little girl to WANT to suck a 
man's prick like a seasoned whore?  (Never mind her comparatively 
poor performance.  I'd still give her an A+ for both effort, and 
for the fact it was her first time.)
     I was about to burst into furious questions, both at my wife 
and Sandy, when I realized that her first real experience with 
sex was NOT the time to traumatize my daughter with harsh words, 
or start interrogating her like a cop trying to beat a confession 
out of a hardened criminal.  So, I caught my breath, tried to 
ease my furiously beating heart from that wonderful ordeal, and 
cuddle my little girl while we both recuperated from her first 
sexual experience with her own father.
     Only Sandy, after a moment of cuddling up to me, didn't seem 
to be calming down or easing up like I was.  In fact, after about 
a minute or two she began squirming and wriggling in my arms 
almost involuntarily; seeming unaware at first of what she was 
doing to me and the prick that SHOULD have been satisfied for the 
day after that incredible blow-job.
     "Please, Daddy?" she whimpered.
     Like I said earlier, I never could resist my little girl.  
However, this time it wasn't so obvious what she wanted; as she 
didn't have my prick in her hand, about to swallow it, like 
earlier.  I looked over at my grinning wife for guidance.
     Marin seemed to be getting WAY too much pleasure out of my 
discomfort.  She had always known I was a pedophile, since years 
before she even agreed to marry me.  It took me quite a while to 
convince her that while I found little girls sexy, I was NOT the 
kind of guy who would pick up kids in the park and stick my 
finger in their pants.  In fact, chances were I wouldn't even 
touch a little girl who came on to me.  After all, I have my 
ethics.  Kids, especially LITTLE kids (like Sandy, or younger) 
just do NOT go up to strangers and ask them if they want to fuck.  
Such things are only wet-dreams, or sophomoric stories written by 
teenagers who probably never got laid in their lives.
     However, I DID know that some girls (and boys too) actually 
got interested in sex at an early age.  Some as young as ten 
years old, or even younger.  Heck, even babies liked to have 
their genitals rubbed; and often would play with themselves, if 
not covered up and prevented with heavy diapers.  It FEELS good 
to be touched down there.  Getting this idea across to my wife, 
took a while, but was worth it.  Otherwise, I don't think she 
would have married me in the first place, or agreed to have a 
child with me, if she thought I might be molesting the kid, in 
the second.
     However, there HAD been one dustup since Sandy was born:  
About (of course) my books.  Marin had wanted me to either toss 
them, or hide them at the very least.  Especially, as she said 
they were unrealistic.  Little ten-year-old girls, just did NOT 
go up to their fathers and ask the man to stick his thick prick 
up inside their tight little bellies and fuck them without 
worries of disease, pregnancy, or the other parent finding out.  
However, *I* remembered all too well when *I* was young.  I 
remembered how much I WANTED sex, even at ten, and probably a 
year or two younger than that.  I simply ACHED to find a girl (or 
woman!) to have sex with.  And later, when I was an adult, I had 
discussed this with my big sister, and found out SHE had felt the 
same way, only she started younger than I did!  Oh God, if I had 
only known.
     Only kids just never DO think of siblings as possible sex 
partners, dates, or even real human beings.  Sisters are SISTERS.  
They get in your way, make fun of you, hog the bathroom, go out 
on dates with some of the awfullest creeps, and generally make a 
little boy's life miserable.  But still somehow you love them 
anyway.  Carol, it turned out, felt the same way about me.  She 
DID admit having a crush on Dad though; but it never came to 
anything.  Such crushes rarely do; though they are far more 
common than many people think.  (And sometimes, like Sandy, they 
develop into something far more intense than a mere crush.)
     So, for the past several months, our disagreement about my 
books (It hadn't escalated into an argument.) had shifted to 
where I was defending the idea that SOME little girls actually DO 
want sex at an early age (like my sister had) even if possibly 
MOST do not (like Marin insisted such ideas had never occurred to 
her).  Each of us was SURE we were right, and with personal 
experience along with friends and family to back it up.  For 
several months now, Marin had sometimes teased me by pointing out 
especially sexy little girls ... most particularly the kind who 
wore little slut, "fuck me" outfits down at the mall; asking me 
what I'd do if the kid walked over and asked if she could take me 
to bed.  Of course, *I* would respond by pointing out that the 
little girl in question probably DID want sex, as the kinderslut 
outfit seemed to show.  She was most likely afraid to ask though; 
so the sex-bomb outfit was an attempt to get some guy to ask her.
     And Marin (of course) would respond by saying it was a lot 
more likely that the little girl's FATHER and dressed her up like 
a sexpot, so he could ogle his little girl's charms, and show her 
off to all the other men, in a macho, "See what *I'VE* got, that 
you can't have," display, that men are so fond of doing.
     I (again, of course) would respond by pointing out that 
almost ALL of such kids' clothing was bought by loving mothers, 
NOT horny dads.  So, what did THAT imply?
     The conversations usually stopped there; though I HAD 
gathered up most of my books, and filed them neatly in the 
headboard of the bed.  While Marin was a wonderful life, and we 
(usually) had sex almost twice a day on average, I STILL needed 
to "handle things on my own" once in a while.  And books like, 
"Daughter's Hot Mouth" and "Daddy's Little Darlings" or "The 
autobiography of a Flea" did a lot to help me "do my duty".  For 
some reason, stories about little girls who LIKE sex (like I kept 
insisting to Marin did exist) were almost always at least 
partially incestuous.  I guess that's because when YOUNG, the 
place a girl can find sex the easiest, is in the family.
     So, there I was, with a reviving prick, after one of the 
best blow-jobs of my life (if inexperienced) and a squirming 
little girl in my arms, while I looked over helplessly at my 
grinning wife.
     "What does she want NOW?" I asked plaintively.
     Marin's grin grew even wider.
     "I think she wants to be molested," she choked; almost 
collapsing in giggles on the bed.  To my wife, having our little 
girl making obscene advances on her pedophile husband, seemed 
like the funniest thing in the world.  Especially, as I was 
resisting far harder than she would expect most men who never 
even thought of little girls as sex-objects to do.
     "Daddy, Please?" whined Sandy.
     "Oh God, I can't," I groaned myself.  "I can't rape my own 
daughter!"
     "Oh don't be silly," snapped Marin; for once, losing her 
composure; and slipping from hilarity into annoyance.  "She's 
much too little for that.  You won't be able to fit that nasty 
THING of yours in her for several years yet so don't even THINK 
of trying!  You don't have to FUCK a girl to have sex with her, 
you know.  Even *I* knew that, when I was probably younger than 
she is."  That was the FIRST time Marin had ever admitted having 
sexual interests at all, before she was twelve years old.
     "You can kiss her, cuddle her, feel her up, have her suck 
your cock <giggle> lick her, rub her, even stick your finger in 
her hole, or up her ass.  You DON'T have to put your prick in a 
girl to make it feel good for her.  Get the idea?"
     "Please, Daddy?"
     Oh God.
     "You can even cum in her, if you want to," amplified Marin; 
taking pleasure at my discomfort.  I could almost hear her 
thought, 'Serves the old bastard right, for being a pedophile!'  
At my openmouthed objection, she continued, "Yes, you can hold 
your prick up against her ass, or even her cunny, and squirt 
inside her THAT way.  You don't HAVE to have your cock inside a 
girl to get cum in her, you know.  My mother pointed this out to 
me many years ago, when I *thought* I was having 'safe sex' with 
a guy.  I'm sure Sandy would love to have your cum inside her 
body, no matter WHERE you squirt it, wouldn't you, Honey?"
     "Please, Daddy?"
     Oh God.
     I figured that I just HAD to find out where both Sandy AND 
Marin have been getting this stuff.  It sounded WAY too much like 
some of the wet-dream stories I kept on the headboard.  
"Daughter's Hot Mouth, BOOK II", came to mind, along with a 
couple others.
     A sudden thought tore through my head; and I looked in 
horror at the bookshelf above the bed, while Marin grinned even 
broader.  Oh God, no.
     "Please, Daddy?"  Now a whimper of desperation.

           -------------------------------------------

     OK .... THIS story is an experiment.  Normally, I never post 
unfinished stories.  This however, is part-2 of something that 
was originally intended to be about 1/3 this size, yet as I write 
it appears will take at *least* three times as long to finish, 
but it might be as much as ten times longer.  So, in an attempt 
to find out who reads the things I post, I'm stopping here ... 
for now.
     If enough people ASK me to, I'll finish up the next part, 
and post it.  I'm NOT posting this to my website, however, until 
it's finished.  If nobody responds, then it'll probably be just 
another partial story gathering dust in my hopper, until I decide 
to finish it.  Even then, I probably won't post it, but will just 
add it to those available on my website.
     Yes, this is a blatant plug for email, or at least comments.  
It seems that unfinished stories, or serials, are the only thing 
that people notice in the newsgroups sometimes.  Or at least, 
they're the only things that get commented-on.
     So, for those who LIKE unfinished stories, here's one.
     For those who don't, let me know, and maybe I'll finish this 
one.
     Who know ... I'm feeling like finishing it right now; so 
maybe I will ... and keep the other parts to myself, since nobody 
else wants them.
     Want more?      Then speak up.
     Don't like it?  Then say so.
     Don't care?     Then don't bother.

     I can be reached at:  "Frank McCoy" <mccoyf@millcomm.com>

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