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Subject: {ASSM} My Baby Girl and the Halloween Party ( Mg+, inc, pedo, rom, cons, 1st, oral )
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Date: Fri, 12 Feb 2016 06:10:02 -0500
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My Baby Girl and the Halloween Party

By WintermuteX 
wintermutex.stories@gmail.com 
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Wintermutex/www/ 

Previous stories: 
My Baby Girl and Her First Time 
My Baby Girl and Our First Date
My Baby Girl and the Modelling Gig
My Baby Girl and the Pajama Party
My Baby Girl and the Swim Class

Tags: 
Mg+, inc, pedo, rom, cons, 1st, oral

Content: 
Pedophilia, Incest, Romance, Seduction, First Time, Costumes / Cosplay

                                  ~*~                                  

"Sweetie, I'm home!" I yelled from the foyer, stuffing my briefcase 
under the side table and kicking off my shoes. No response, but the 
house smelled like burning peppers and simmering sounds drifted out of 
the kitchen. Shae must be trying her hand at cooking dinner again. I 
shed my tie and jacket with a sigh, looking forward to the weekend. 

After washing up and changing, I headed to the kitchen. Steaming pots 
bubbled in tandem and my baby girl was chopping vegetables on a cutting 
board, facing away from me. I leaned on the door sill, taking a moment 
to enjoy the sight: lustrous golden hair swept down my daughter's bare 
back, ending just above two perfectly curving globes of flesh hugged 
tightly by her pink panties. Her legs were bare, muscles arching under 
supple skin as she shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot. She 
was thin, small even for an 11-year-old, athletically toned, her naked 
backside graced with a flawless curvature that drew the eye on an 
inexorable journey over every peak and valley of a little girl's perfect 
body. At least she had covered her front with the frilly yellow apron 
this time. I didn't want her to get burned again. 

I snuck up on the half-naked girl, stalking like a predator, socks 
padding silently over the tiled floor and rustling clothing masked by 
the sound of boiling water. She finally put down the knife, sighing and 
straightening, and began to push chopped carrots onto a plate. My hands 
glided around her sides and dipped under the yellow cloth to squeeze her 
chest. 

She squealed in surprise and laughed. "Daaaaaad! Come on, don't sneak up 
on me." 

"An elephant could sneak up on you." I buried my nose in her hair, 
inhaling the sweet strawberry scent of my little girl. The faint swells 
of her growing breasts glided under my hands, capped by the soft points 
of her nipples. I pinched them playfully, earning a sigh as she leaned 
back against my chest and arched her neck to peer up at me with a grin. 

"It all smells good baby girl, especially you," I teased, then bent to 
plant a kiss on her waiting lips. Tongues met and dueled in a brief 
contest before I let her go. My pants poked in an obscene tent against 
my daughter's back back as I fondled her, looking for release. "You're 
starting to grow out pretty nicely," I commented, letting my hands run 
over the faint beginnings of her breasts. 

"Ok stud," she giggled, feeling the eager intruder against her back. 
"Let me finish making dinner at least. It's rice and stir-fry. Now 
shoo!" She tapped me menacingly with a stirring spoon, like I was a 
stray animal. "Get, shoo, scoot." 

I unwrapped my arms from my daughter wistfully and gave her ass a firm 
squeeze before leaving. 

A brief tour of the yard assured me that the halloween decorations were 
still in place. Cotton strands traced a clumsy web between the two trees 
in the front, the large spider perched in the center still dutifully 
standing guard. The strings of orange and purple lights still worked, 
casting a spooky glow in the shadow of the house. I had usually taken 
Shae trick-or-treating for the holiday, but this year we had been 
invited to a party instead. Shae said she didn't want to go door-to-door 
anyway, that it was "kids stuff". Satisfied, I went inside. Maybe I 
could catch the game before dinner. 

"DAAAAAAAADDY! It's ready!" My daughter yelled at a crushing volume, as 
though I were miles away and not just down the hall. I clicked off the 
game with a sigh. The game was going nowhere anyway, both teams playing 
too defensively for either to have any hope of scoring a goal. 

I took my seat as Shae piled my plate with rice and vegetables coated in 
a sticky sauce, then flopped into the seat next to me, eyes shining 
eagerly, waiting. I knew the drill: I was to be my daughter's willing 
guinea pig. 

Well, it smelled delicious. Steam rose from tantalizing chunks of 
chicken. It couldn't be that bad. I tested the vegetables cautiously 
with my fork. It looked edible. I dug in with my spoon and took a huge 
bite, then wheezed in pain. 

"How is it Daddy?" Shae asked earnestly. 

Tears beaded in the corners of my eyes. My mouth was on fire. Acid 
scorched my tongue. I forced myself to chew and swallow. 

"Is it good?" Shae was leaning forward on the edge of her seat, watching 
my cheeks quiver in agony. My throat screamed in a torrent of fire. My 
esophagus had dissolved into burning cinders. Coughing, tears streaming 
down my cheeks, I wondered if I should call an ambulance. 

"It's good sweetie," I croaked. "Maybe just a little too much spice." 

"Oh. It said 2 cups of chili powder," she frowned. 

"Maybe...it meant...2 teaspoons," I panted, then spotted the glass of 
water. I grabbed it like a dying man and chugged. 

"Oh...sorry Daddy." She dabbed a finger in the mush and tasted it. "I 
guess it *is* kind of spicy." 

"It's - ok - sweetie," I burbled between frantic gulps. "Everything - 
you make for me" - I glugged the glass empty - "tastes really great." I 
forced a ghastly smile onto my face, wheezing unconvincingly, and then 
doubled over coughing. 

As my lungs heaved in racking paroxysms, I reflected on how we suffered 
for the ones we loved. The chicken she made last week had been burnt 
into hunks of charcoal, and the cake had collapsed into a sandy puddle 
of mush. I had suggested she try something easier like stir-fry. Shae 
was good at most things she tried, but cooking just didn't seem to be 
one of them. She wasn't the kind of person to let failure hold her back 
though. Once the pillar of fire in my throat died to tolerable embers, I 
hugged her, trying to wipe the disappointed frown off her face, and sure 
enough, by the time we ate the rice and had a desert of ice cream, she 
was already back to her normal bubbly self, piling dishes in the sink 
and then scampering down the hall to our bedroom to get ready. Optimism 
and sunny enthusiasm were my daughter's best qualities. 

After tidying up the kitchen, I poured myself a small glass of wine and 
leaned against the counter, quenching the remaining aches with large 
sips of merlot. A certain heady expectation had been bubbling inside me 
all day. Halloween was Shae's favorite holiday, and it was becoming mine 
as well because it gave the little girl an excuse to dress up and try 
out an endless parade of titillating and exotic costumes until she found 
the perfect one. Our Anna and Kristoff had been a hit, even with the 
goofy wig she had made me wear. Last year's Little Red Riding Hood and 
Big Bad Wolf had been a smashing success. Really, all the credit 
belonged to my daughter - I had no talent for costumes. 

When she seized upon an idea, she transformed into an unstoppable 
creative whirlwind: snipping, measuring, sewing with fervent passion 
until her vision became a reality. Mostly I just hung on and enjoyed the 
ride. I tipped the glass, draining the dark pool of fruity vintage, the 
wine jostling memories of how I yanked her little braids in the Anna 
costume, or held her down on the floor last year and kicked her basket 
away, growling in her ear as I pretended to rip off all the cute little 
bits of her scarlet cloak and skirt. My baby girl had giggled 
hysterically at my overacting, at least until I had found her pussy and 
stuffed my cock into it, pounding her to a screaming orgasm against the 
rug. She had converted the Riding Hood costume after that night, rending 
the cloak and skirt with scissors, shredding the shirt, and dressing it 
with fabric paint to transform the outfit into a tattered shell of claw 
and bitemarks that looked as if the wearer had been savaged by a wolf. 
"Little Red Ravaged Hood," she had dubbed it, one of her rare puns. We 
had used the outfit several times since. 

It was time to get ready. The hall closet was dominated by the plastic 
garment bag draped over the frame of my old pinstripe suit. I took it 
down and gathered the slacks and undershirt. I had forgotten I even had 
this old thing until Shae had found it while rummaging through old 
clothes in the attic. I think it was what gave her the idea for our 
costumes. It didn't fit anymore, of course, but the tailoring workshops 
at Shae's modelling agency had made her pretty good with a needle. She 
had wrapped my naked body with measuring tape and wrote down a few 
inscrutable numbers in her notebook. I had had a sneaking suspicion that 
I didn't have to be naked for the procedure, but my daughter insisted. 
Afterwards, she had kicked me out and tightened the stomach, loosened 
the hips and thighs, and adjusted the arms and collar. At least, I 
assume something like that had happened. Whatever it was, when she was 
done working her magic, the suit fit like a dream again, and I had sent 
it for dry cleaning. 

Shae was already getting ready when I entered the bedroom. The garments 
formed an untidy pile where I dumped them on the bed, and I doffed my 
clothes down to my underwear before sitting on the covers to watch. "Hey 
Daddy," she said, her reflection grinning at me from the large vanity 
mirror. Subtle sweeps of lavender eyeshadow highlighted her blue eyes, a 
vibrant, rosy hue with a faint dust of glitter emphasized her cheeks, 
and she was just finishing a seamless extension of her eyebrows, using a 
thin brush to draw them out into curving arches that hinted at wistful 
innocence and exotic curiosity. I could never figure out how she did it: 
my daughter was a stunning girl even at her worst, but with the right 
makeup and motivation, she transformed into a captivating beauty, like 
an angel whose smile could make a man's heart burst in his chest. 

And an angel she was: a pair of puffy white wings protruded from her 
back and a halo hovered above her golden hair, held in place by an 
invisible wire. A long strip of filmy white silk hung loosely around her 
upper arms, leaving her shoulders bare, stitched to thin white linen 
that wrapped her neck and criss-crossed her chest in a scanty top that 
arched over her budding breasts. Beneath that flimsy cover, she was bare 
all the way down to the short white skirt. It was decorated with an 
overskirt of more filmy material stitched into petticoats that draped 
loosely down her slender legs. Golden sandals matched her hair, the long 
ties wrapped around her legs almost to the knees. Wrist cuffs and a 
silver necklace with a sparkling pendant completed the look. 

My eyes crawled over my daughter's lovely contours as if pulled by an 
inevitable current, hungry, drinking in the sexy sight of my beautiful 
baby girl. The layers of translucent cloth, hanging loosely in a Grecian 
style, emphasized the sweet feminine curvature underneath, hinting 
strongly at bare flesh while giving away nothing. *Technically* the 
costume was decent. I was pretty sure Shae had a white crop top on 
underneath, and the skirt was solid white fabric underneath the folded 
layers of silk. It was simply the way it hung, teasing the eye with the 
titillating curves of a ripe 11-year-old girl's body. A normal girl 
would show more skin at the beach, but my daughter had miraculous powers 
that made anything she wore incredibly provocative. When she had 
casually pitched the "sexy angel" idea, I had been thrilled, but also 
wondered if I would be able to take her out into public in the 
inevitable result. I should have given her more credit. Her costume toed 
the line, and could have earned her some odd looks if we were just going 
anywhere, but for the party we were going to, it was perfect. Shae would 
enjoy odd looks anyway. My baby girl loved to be looked at. 

Finished with the makeup, she took a small wreath of colorful flowers 
and wove it effortlessly into her hair, blending subtle layers together 
until the ring of blossoms poked between her tresses seamlessly. "Ok, 
I'm done," Shae giggled, turning around on the vanity chair. "You can 
stop drooling now." 

"Oh, speak again, bright angel," I smiled. "You shine above me, like-" 

"Stop stop!" Shae was holding up her hands, laughing. "Come on Daddy. 
I've had enough Shakespeare to last forever. Listening to Kevin screw up 
those lines always gave me a headache." 

"But you were so good as Juliet," I teased. Shae's school had put on 
their yearly play last month, and Shae had been recruited unwillingly to 
play the heroine. "Once Janie got sick and you had to fill Juliet, all 
the boys just lined up to be Romeo." 

My angel rolled her eyes so hard I thought she would injure herself. 
"Yeah sure, they lined up. And they picked KEVIN, of all people." 

I chuckled. "Kevin likes you." 

"Kevin likes every girl. Kevin smells like a bunsen burner. Kevin picks 
his nose and flings the boogers." She kicked her legs in annoyance, then 
stood up and poked a finger at me. "Hey, no stalling Daddy! You have to 
tell me if the costume is right. And be serious this time!" 

Grinning lasciviously, I played my gaze over the sweet fields of tender 
skin. She had trimmed away most of the original angel costume that she 
ordered, replacing the skirt and sewing in the transparent silk so it 
was more suggestive. Now it hugged her slender waist and curving hips, 
bordering the bare tummy of flawless skin that stretched up to the 
faint hints of growing breasts. I twirled my finger, and my baby girl 
spun for me, long hair lifting from bare shoulders to swirl in a 
sparkling arc of hidden glitter, skirt flaring and trailing filmy cloth 
in the air. I was already straining against my boxer shorts from 
watching her get ready, and the motion of my daughter's 11-year-old body 
spinning in graceful twirls earned a painful throb of applause from down 
below. 

She halted facing me, arms at her back and chest thrust out in a 
beguiling posture, perky wings fluffed out behind her. The cheery smile 
and sapphire eyes glowed with hunger for her Daddy's approval. "Well?" 

I pinched myself to be sure I wasn't dreaming. She was the most adorable 
thing I had ever seen. I opened my mouth slowly, inhaling dramatically. 
"It's...you know, it's ok I guess. Sorta." 

She sighed with exasperation. 

"Maybe you should have gone with the ogre costume," I said teasingly. 
"This isn't really doing it for me." The bulge about to rip a hole in my 
underwear gave the lie to my words. 

She put her hands on her hips and glared imperiously at me. "You know 
what Daddy? I think I'm going to slap you." 

"Yeah, definitely an ogre," I mused. "Didn't Kevin go as an ogre last 
year? You could ask him for some tips." 

"Ok, here I come, I'm really going to slap you this time." Shae stalked 
towards me with feigned menace. 

"I don't know though..." I tapped a finger idly to my chin, pretending 
to be distracted. "Kevin might be kind of out of your league 
costume-wise." 

"You know you're really asking for-" 

I snatched her arms when she got close, wrestling the laughing girl into 
my lap and diving for the ticklish spot above her hips. Cotton underwear 
rubbed painfully over my prick, bulging up eagerly towards my daughter's 
crotch. She shrieked and squirmed as my fingers turned her into a 
giggling wreck, and after subduing her I twisted her around to bury a 
deep kiss on her mouth. 

Our lips parted with a pop. "The Anna costume was stunning," I said, 
tracing the curve of her hip with my finger. "I didn't think anything 
could beat that. But the next year, you topped it with that Riding Hood 
outfit. I loved it." I buried her mouth with another kiss when she 
opened it to say something, and stroked my hands in urgent motions 
across her smooth stomach. Another gasp and pop, lips parting briefly. 
"I thought that was the sexiest outfit you've ever done. There was no 
way you could top it. But now, you did it again." A hungry hand ran up 
under the pearly silk of her top, squeezing the slight mounds on her 
heaving chest. "If anyone is my little angel, it's you baby girl." 

I rubbed the sensitive nub of my little girl's nipple between my 
fingertips, sending her back into a squirming frenzy. Heavy panting 
mounted into an abrupt groan as she grabbed my arm, shaking slightly. 
"You know...next time...you could just say you like it." 

"Where's the fun in that?" I grinned impishly. "But I like it Shae. I 
LOVE it. Really, you have such an amazing talent with clothes. It's like 
magic. It's not a talent you got from me. I can barely put my pants on 
right in the morning." 

She rolled her eyes, the go-to gesture of all level-headed little girls 
who must bear the unimaginable burden of dealing with silly adults. 
"Yeah well, SPEAKING of pants, yours aren't on yet Daddy. We need to get 
you ready." 

She was right. We had to leave soon and we hadn't even started on my 
costume yet. I pulled my hand out from her top regretfully and helped 
her straighten the fuzzy little angel wings. 

"Ok, sit." She pushed me back onto the bed, eyeing me mischievously, 
and then grabbed a cotton undershirt. I raised my arms and let her pull 
it down over my arms. Shae pretended to help me smooth the fabric, 
rubbing the cloth in lingering strokes on my chest and arms. I had been 
working out a lot more and was fit for my age, and my daughter seemed to 
be growing a lot more appreciative of Daddy's muscled chest and biceps. 
She had gigglingly confessed that it was her second favorite thing about 
me. I straightened the shirt and waited. Shae stood idly, distracted, 
dreamy gaze wandering over my physique. 

"Ahem," I coughed. "Shouldn't we be getting ready little angel?" 

"Oh...right." She turned away. "Let's do it in the bathroom. I'll get 
the makeup." Her reflection in the vanity mirror betrayed the crimson 
flush in her throat. I had taught my daughter every way to make love to 
a man, but if caught off guard she could still blush like a little girl. 

"This stuff is super awesome," Shae bubbled, after I took a seat on the 
bathroom stool. It's alcohol-activated makeup. One of the girls at SP 
showed me how to use it." She broke off a piece of red cake from one of 
the tins and added it to a bed of gel in another, crushing and stirring 
the mixture with a stick. 

"It's perfect. It doesn't sweat off or wash off or crack. It won't even 
get on your suit." She dipped a brush in the tin and smeared the 
concoction on my face. "When you want to wash it off you just use more 
alcohol." 

Under my daughter's talented hand, my face began to slowly transform, 
taking on a lurid red hue, accented with dark lines around the nose and 
throat that conveyed a sunken, sallow menace. She drew on a thin, 
double-pointed mustache and matching goatee, before nodding 
satisfactorily to herself and giving the same treatment to my hands. 

I stared at myself in the mirror. The illusion was perfect. She was only 
11, but my daughter was a master. I surveyed my ruddy hands as she glued 
the last of the pointed nails on, and then combed and gelled my hair 
into a tidy part. 

"Ok!" She dropped her tin carelessly back on the counter. "Perfect. 
Let's get the rest of the suit on." 

A starched white shirt with stiff cuffs went over my arms, and Shae 
helped me button it up. The suit jacket was next. I dressed in a sort of 
dreamy haze, letting my daughter help me straighten the jacket and tie. 
The last hour of seeing her bend and twist and jiggle in the sweet 
little angel outfit, with the suggestive translucence and hip-hugging 
skirt had teased my aching prick to the breaking point. The desperate 
tent, begging for attention, had brushed her arms and back a dozen times 
as she dressed me. Shae just giggled each time. Teasing her Daddy was 
one of her favorite pastimes, right behind rolling her eyes at Daddy 
and getting fucked by Daddy. I pulled up the slacks, struggling to wrap 
them around the steel at my crotch. 

"Don't forget the cufflinks. Oh and there's one more thing," she said. 
The cufflinks were a pair of small pins, metal faces etched with the 
comical guise of a grinning devil - a casual souvenir from a movie set 
I had visited a long time ago. Shae must have dug these up from deep in 
the attic too. I poked them through the cuffs. 

Shae produced a folded crimson handkerchief from one of her vanity 
drawers, and arranged it tidily in the suit pocket. "Ok!" She rested her 
hands on her hips, surveying her handiwork with approval before pushing 
me to the side. "Here, Daddy, look in the mirror." 

A sinister devil greeted me, smart and professional, impeccably dressed 
in a dark suit and blood red tie, folded hands of pointed nails and a 
face beguiling and handsome. No horns, no pitchfork, no silly pointed 
tail or hooves: this was a scoundrel that carried a briefcase as he 
strangled the world in small degrees, the devil who denied your 
insurance claim when your house burned to the ground, the fiend of the 
boardroom that smoked cigars in an armchair as his tankers full of oil 
ripped their hulls open and bled out on the seas of the world. Beside 
this casual 9-to-5 menace stood a sweet young angel of smooth skin and 
sexy curves flowing under scanty cloth, vibrant golden hair pockmarked 
with florid blooms and beaming cheerily. 

My daughter's hand tightened around my arm, clutching in anticipation. 
"Wow," I breathed. "Shae this is really great!" I rubbed my makeup 
gingerly. "This won't come off?" 

She shook her head. "I told you, it only comes off with alcohol." 

"We look incredible." I hugged her to my leg, rubbing my hand run down 
her back between her wings. "You're an amazingly talented girl. A devil 
and his angel daughter - everyone else at the party is going to be 
jealous." 

She chuckled, preening, as we inspected ourselves in the mirror. "Thanks 
Daddy. They turned out pretty much perfect," she said, flapping her 
skirt to flare out the cloth. "But mine is missing something and yours 
has an obvious problem..." 

Her hand traced up my leg to the engorged swell at my crotch that was 
straining the pants to the breaking point. Wincing involuntarily, I 
grabbed her shoulder as my baby girl's fingertip teased the eager flesh 
through the fabric, tracing a gentle outline and circling the tip. I 
opened my mouth to say something but let the words die into a groan when 
she brushed down my shaft with a light grip. An hour of watching my baby 
girl in her sexy costume had pushed my body to the quivering brink of 
ecstasy. She dropped to her knees and popped the button of my pants, 
halo wobbling, then pulled the zipper. I teetered like a man hanging 
from a cliff as my daughter's tiny hands pushed down my pants and 
underwear, causing my strained prick to pop out like a spring and hit 
her in the face. 

"Jeez Daddy," she giggled, running a fingertip along my thick meat 
before lightly grabbing the base to steady it. "We just fucked this 
morning and you're already hard again." 

"I'm always ready for you honey." I panted, trying to breathe deeply and 
hold out against the grip of my daughter's eager fingers around my dick. 
"Besides, I don't think any Daddy could see his little girl in a costume 
like that and NOT stand at attention." 

Both her hands were working in gentle strokes, spreading my precum over 
the tip of my shaft. "If I had known you would like it THIS much, I 
would have made it earlier." She beamed up at me, golden hair and puffy 
wings waving in time with the slow back-and-forth rhythm of her hands on 
my cock. 

Fingers twining in her hair, I leaned back against the dresser and gave 
myself up to the rapturous feeling of my daughter's fingers on my prick. 
They brushed in expert motions, spreading slimy precum on the shaft and 
then gripped it firmly, pushing down in long strokes that sent warm 
waves of pleasure rolling up my body. Learning forward, she held me in 
front of her face and flicked her tongue in taunting licks, spreading 
saliva over my head in short laps and then opening wide as she prepared 
to take her Daddy's manhood into her mouth. 

Loving eyes looked up and locked with mine, as slow, slippery wetness 
engulfed me. Inch after inch of my girth disappeared into my daughter's 
mouth, filling the moist space and puffing her cheeks until the tip 
bumped the back and plugged her tiny throat. Blood surged and my chest 
clenched, heart racing, threatening to burst as Shae pulled back and 
buried my cock in her mouth again. Halo bobbing and bare shoulders 
rolling, my lovely little girl gazed upwards with a hungry passion as 
her lips spread around her Daddy's thick penis, girlish curves rocking 
in motion under the translucent white silk and sending me to the brink. 
Bobbing and sucking, pleasing her Daddy with just her mouth, she used 
her hands to pull down her top and pinch her nipples, nostrils flaring 
with sudden breath as she worked the little pink nubs. Electricity coiled 
around my spine and lightning spiked from my brain to my crotch in a 
blinding wave of red. Makeup bottles toppled as the dresser rocked 
behind me, white knuckles arching against it, and my baby girl popped 
off and grabbed me right as a thundering torrent of cum fountained up 
from my balls and exploded in a wild jet at her face. 

Muscles clenched in chaotic ecstasy and I gasped in desperate climax, 
watching as my angel aimed my prick at her chest and took each hot 
splash of her Daddy's cum in a constellation of sticky wads across her 
chest. I spurted my last few jolts, jaw clenched tightly, and then 
sagged in delirious exhaustion back against the dresser. Hooking thumbs 
against the white fabric, Shae pulled her top out and back up into 
place, hiding the juice I had spilled on her under the suggestive 
fabric, and then bounced to her feet. 

"Thanks Daddy! I knew the costume wouldn't be complete without a present 
from you." She grabbed my waist and reached up to kiss me, and I wrapped 
my arms around her in an exhausted bear hug, squeezing my baby girl 
tight against me, and burying my tongue in her mouth with a wordless 
thirsty passion. Wet residue rubbed from my wilted prick onto her tummy 
and I hiked up her skirt in the rear to fill my hands with the sweet 
little globes of my daughter's ass. 

Our kiss parted with a gasp. "Love you baby girl," I panted, still 
wobbly from my orgasm. "But we should really get going or we'll be late 
for the party." 

"Ok Daddy. Let me get my purse from the table." She turned to leave, 
wings bobbing behind her. My fingertips were mysteriously sticky. I 
smelled them: pussy juice. 

"Honey, are you going without panties?" 

Shae had disappeared into the hallway already, but the inevitable 
rolling of her eyes was almost audible as she called back. 

"Why would I need panties Daddy?" 

                                  ~*~                                  

Headlights scrolled in bright circles across the bars of the 
wrought-iron gate as I pulled up and waited. The gate opened on its own, 
trundling loudly in the darkness, and I drove through. A merry glow 
marked the estate at the top of the hill. Nicholas was fabulously 
wealthy, though he didn't show it off much. The Deshal family fortune 
had grown steadily in Europe for the last century before his parents had 
immigrated here, and after inheriting a vast sum of money, Nick's 
careful business investments had grown it even further. He ran his 
modelling agency, Select Petites, mostly for fun, and his finances were 
so comfortable that he wouldn't have had to work a day in his life if he 
didn't want to. 

I had been here before, but I could never stop being amazed at the size 
of the mansion. The main house was a vast structure, a marriage of 
stucco and gray stone blended with wood in a lavish facade, and the two 
wings stretching out on the East and North sides held even more game 
rooms, bars, and guest quarters. Nick was a socialite par excellence, 
and loved to have as many guests as possible. Beyond that, he was also a 
total gentleman, responsible and extremely careful in all of his 
personal affairs, and one of the few people I trusted with certain 
secrets that I normally kept close to my heart. 

I guided the Audi up the drive, following the path of lights that 
trailed sinuously through the inky darkness as they climbed the hill, 
and finally stopped in front of a high pillared entryway. Modest 
fountains and trellises of flowering vines decorated the outdoors with 
an air of tasteful invitation. I got out and opened the door for Shae, 
holding her hand as she emerged from the car like a celebrity. An 
old-fashioned gesture maybe, but it made her feel special. A silent 
valet in a blue jacket took my proffered keys. 

"Good evening Mr. Watts, Miss Shae." The elderly doorman wore a 
welcoming smile and an immaculate grey suit. "We are delighted that you 
could attend tonight." The British accent was subdued but recognizable. 

It took a brief rummage through my mental directory to recall his name. 
"Hello again Paul. How are you?" 

"Just fine sir, thank you. Please go on in. Mr. Deshal is expecting 
you." He held the door open for us. "And may I say that you sir, and 
especially you Miss Shae, look especially fetching this evening. I 
believe these are the finest outfits I have seen all night, and with no 
mean competition." 

I squeezed Shae's shoulder, encouraging her to take credit. "Thank you 
Mr. Paul," she said timidly. "They were fun to make." 

The old gentleman beamed at my daughter. "I'm sure they were. You must 
be a young lady of some talent, Miss Shae." He gestured to the open door 
and we went in. 

The long hallway of polished oak panelling was lined with tasteful art 
and subdued lighting. The side doors were closed, tacked with frightful 
arrows that urged us onwards, and we padded over the soft carpet, 
approaching distant music until we emerged into a large dining hall 
where the party was already in full swing. 

Nick appeared to have spared no expense. The large space was heavily 
decorated - spiderwebs, hanging red lanterns, skeletons and jack 
o'lanterns in a profusion of carefully arranged spookiness - and a fake 
fence and archway, dark plastic emulating the perimeter of a gothic 
graveyard, separated the catered tables of the upper level from the 
party floor on the lower. 

Shrill cries punctured the music of the room: Shae and Alexis spotting 
each other and waving and yelling, the older girl seated with her dad at 
one of the tables near the door. "Come on Daddy!" Shae yanked at my arm, 
pulling me along like luggage up through the arch to her friend's table. 

"Hi Alex!" my daughter shrieked, the two friends hugging each other. 
"See, I told you the slave thing would work if you got a big chain to go 
with it and got it painted." 

Alexis was a bubbling sweetheart 2 years Shae's senior, with dimples and 
a heart-shaped face rimmed by straight auburn hair that she had pulled 
back into an enormous braid. The faux-metal bikini top matched a plated 
bottom, both edged in a curving design, and a long flap of red silk hung 
down between her legs. Slave Leia. She was gorgeous, a treat for the 
eyes, young body mostly bare around the sparse coverings of her costume, 
luscious hips and shoulders sculpted in those entrancing curves that 
little girls get when they are just beginning to fill out around 13. A 
powerless boat pushed high on cresting waves, my eyeballs traced the 
surface of her swelling curves, travelling down from her face to the 
growing breasts and smooth tummy, ending at the island of her delicate 
navel. I had seen every inch of the little girl before, of course, when 
I took her virginity in my bed while my daughter and her friend watched, 
but Alexis' simple loveliness was amplified by the scanty costume, 
exuding the thrilling suggestion of a young girl's revealed body 
blooming on the cusp of puberty. 

She bounced as she chatted with Shae, giving a slow swing to the long 
chain attached to her collar. The large links formed a trail to the next 
seat, where her father, Jim, a handsome figure in a simple blue tunic 
and cape, grinned at me sheepishly. I took a seat next to him. 

"Leia and Lando. Very nice. I like it," I said amiably. Jim was polite, 
but soft-spoken and more than a bit shy. "Her idea," he muttered, 
jiggling the chain and seeming faintly embarrassed by it. "Somehow the 
costume doesn't work unless I'm holding this huge chain. My daughter has 
some very questionable logic sometimes." 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe she just wants to keep close to you," I 
laughed. "Shae can be the same way. But really, you two look great 
together." 

"Yeah," he muttered. "The costumes turned out great..." he trailed off, 
gazing at his daughter distractedly. Then a smile bloomed abruptly on 
his face and words burst in a torrent from his mouth. "Alexis put that 
whole thing together with almost no help from me. We got the necklace 
from a flea market and she made the armband herself. She was obsessed. 
Worked for days on it, kept asking Shae for advice, and it turned out 
amazing. She really has a lot of talent..." Jim trailed off again after 
his outburst. The only outlier in his mild temper was the fierce streak 
of pride for his daughter that he normally kept hidden. Jim was a 
private man, but I knew something had happened between Alexis and her 
father 2 years ago, and they both had seemed a lot happier since then. 
It wasn't hard to guess; Jim was a lucky man. 

"Oh come on, these are TOOOO cute!" Alexis was poking Shae's fluffy 
wings. "And you made the skirt all cool and shimmery, I don't even know 
how you DO that." She giggled with muted envy, just before the music 
dropped off and an announcer began to organize the guests on the lower 
floor. 

"Oh hey Dad they're going to be doing the contests!" Alexis sprang to 
her feet. "Look, they're setting up to do bobbing for apples. Come on 
Dad, you said you'd do it with me!" 

"Oh er, did I say that?" Jim raised his hands in feigned ignorance. 

"YES you DID now come ON Dad! We have to get our names in before they 
start!" Alexis yanked the chain, pulling her father to his feet. He 
threw us a final helpless grimace before letting his daughter tow him 
towards the floor. 

I smiled to myself as I watched them go, leaning back and putting my arm 
around Shae. The tables had platters of food and snacks, and my baby 
girl was already stuffing her face with finger sandwiches and cookies. I 
stole an oreo from her plate and surveyed the room. 

Our table was one of a dozen in this section, black surfaces lit with 
orange light from candles and jack o'lanterns, and piled with an ample 
selection of food, deserts, candy, and other treats. The hall was large 
and varied, each section had been decorated with a different theme: a 
bar, lit in hues of pale green, festooned with moss, and tended by a 
frightening zombie; a row of private booths rested among large 
spiderwebs, menaced by 8-legged terrors swaying in the darkness above; a 
small dance floor of creeping fog and neon colors; and the lower quarter 
of the room was cleared except for the rim of gargoyles and suits of 
armor, the floor left open for the game and contests that had been 
planned. 

This was Nick's private party, arranged exclusively for the enjoyment of 
his close friends. In Nick's case, his friends seemed to include most of 
the city, so only those who he trusted to hold to a certain level of 
discretion had ever received an invitation. I wasn't worried: nobody was 
more careful than Nicholas, and he seemed to know almost everything 
about everyone. 

Men and young girls comprised the bulk of the guests, mostly fathers 
with their daughters, but there were plenty of others as well. I 
recognized some of the staff of Select Petites scattered around the 
hall, including Mark and Brendan - SP's chief photographers. Dozens of 
young models from the agency were present, some accompanied by older 
men, others with their friends or alone. The room was a little slice of 
heaven, filled with gorgeous young girls, the cast of exquisite, 
professional models that the agency represented. They ranged from a few 
tiny girls as young as 6 to an impressive array of alluring beauties in 
their mid-teens. 

I had met several of the girls before, and knew a few of the older 
guests as well. Everyone here was known by Nick personally. I had 
introduced Jim and Alexis and a few other trusted friends to Nick, and 
was slowing picking their shapes out of the crowd. A family at a table 
across the way were laughing together - I had met them once before. The 
wife was a secretary for SP and the daughter a model, and I guessed that 
all of them together - husband, wife, daughter and son - had some kind 
of open relationship. They were enjoying themselves, howling with 
laughter as the daughter strung them along with jokes. 

Other shapes moved in the dim light. I picked one out near our table. 
"Greg! Hey!" I waved at the bulky man dressed in an flamboyant pirate 
outfit. 

"Good grief, I almost didn't recognize you in that getup," he beamed, 
dropping his enormous frame into a folding chair beside me with a creak. 
"Look at you two: the Darling and the Devil." 

"Good to see you again Greg." I reached to shake his hand, and found 
myself grasping a plastic hook instead. 

He laughed uproariously. "Didn't expect that, did you? Some bratty 
flying boy cut off my hand, or maybe it was eaten by a crocodile or 
something. I don't know. I've never seen the movie. I stick to football. 
This was Sophie's idea." 

"Well it's very convincing," I laughed. "But if you're Hook, then Sophie 
is...Wendy?" 

"Nope." He nodded down at the contest area. "Take a look." 

It took me a moment to spot the tiny, freckled brunette. Delicate fairy 
wings and perky butt thrust in the air, she was bent down over a wooden 
tub with her arms held behind her back, gnashing her teeth at a layer of 
floating apples. Opposite, another girl in a victorian dress with a 
wide, bulky skirt was doing the same. Sophie latched onto a prize a 
second before her opponent, and both girls reared up, apples held in 
their mouths triumphantly. A man with a microphone cheered them on, 
acknowledging their wins and announcing the points. 

Tinkerbell had never looked so cute or so sexy as little Sophie in her 
costume. Several other girls competed, and the tubs were surrounded by a 
ring of men, cheering and encouraging the girls. The games seemed to be 
a major hit, and it wasn't hard to see why: Sophie's thin green wrap was 
soaked in the front, and the girl in the dress was even more drenched. 
Two pairs of little girl nipples thrust proudly against soggy fabric, 
tiny nubs displayed for everyone to see. The girls shrieked with 
laugher, enjoying the attention and happy to pay the price of victory, 
as they raced between tubs to gather an apple from each one. 

The other game was just as popular: girls raced in parallel lanes, 
grabbing handfuls of candy from buckets at one end and dashing 
recklessly to the other to throw them into orange sacks. Shrieking 
wildly, the girls ran and bumped each other in some kind of competition, 
spilling their competitor's treats everywhere while trying to transport 
their own. It seemed each girl had to surrender some article of her 
costume each time they picked up an armful of candy, and the girl with 
the most candy at the end of the game won. 

Or maybe everyone won. Most girls still had a healthy currency of 
armbands, necklaces, sashes, and tiaras to spend, but a few weren't so 
lucky. A little girl dressed like a watermelon stripped her top and 
grabbed a double armful of goodies, clutching them to her bare chest and 
squealing with laughter as she dashed to her sack. She seemed to be in 
the lead. 

The sound swelled from the apple bob game again as they announced the 
winners. "Go Sophie go!" Greg shouted, slapping the table laughingly 
with an enormous hand. Somehow Sophie heard him over the cheering and 
music, and she waved up into the darkened area. The look in Greg's eyes 
as he gazed down at his daughter was unmistakable: he loved his baby 
girl the same way I loved mine. 

Of course, I had been in his little girl's pussy too, but I figured I 
probably shouldn't tell him that if she hadn't. Greg was a good friend, 
and Sophie had apparently told him how Shae and I had encouraged Sophie 
to take the next steps with her father, culminating in a relationship 
with him. Greg had confided to me how he had felt trapped by his desires 
and angry at himself, but giving in to his little girl had turned the 
entire world around for him. 

"We're lucky men, you know," Greg declared wistfully, still looking down 
at the competition. "Lucky to be fathers. Lucky to have our little 
girls. Most people will never have something so special." I nodded in 
agreement, watching the next round of the game begin. 

Sophie shoved another girl in her haste to reach a wooden tub first. 
"Er, maybe I had better get down there," Greg said. "Sophie's as shy as 
a lamb, but if she gets too hyped up in a game she can go a bit 
overboard. I'd better talk to her before she elbows another girl in the 
face." He shook my hand with his hook and waved goodbye to Shae. 

My daughter was chewing noisily beside me. "Aren't you full yet?" I 
asked her. She gave me a dead stare as she slowly pushed another finger 
sandwich into her mouth. 

"Nawmth ywet ahmm shtir hongwi." 

I huffed and pulled over a dessert plate with whipped cream and a big 
jello treat in the shape of a brain, fetching 2 spoons so we could 
share. 

There were a few dozen guests in the main room, men and girls mostly, 
with more trickling in and out. One of the staff members from SP was 
bouncing a girl dressed like a bumblebee on his knee, making her laugh 
with a string of jokes, and a little teen with ears and makeup like a 
bear cub was snuggling with a man I didn't recognize on one of the 
couches. The detail and variety of the costumes on display was pretty 
amazing, but the most elaborate was undoubtedly the three girls that had 
come together as a matched trio of gypsy fortune tellers, wearing 
alluring veils, elaborate skirts, and layers of shining necklaces. Their 
faces were painted in exotic designs of purple and blue edged by golden 
sparkles, and they had given the same treatment to their bare bellies, 
decorating the smooth skin with mystical patterns. The gypsy girls were 
talking with an older teen dressed as a sexy succubus: she sported a 
gothic mini-skirt with a tiny bustier and laced leggings, and twirled a 
pointed tail in her hand as they chatted. 

It was almost too much. I was glad the table hid the inevitable result 
of eyeballing so many girls in their revealing costumes. I forced my 
gaze to wander so I didn't end up staring, and spotted a tall, dark 
figure passing down the lane at the end of the tables with a little girl 
practically wrapped around each arm. 

"Hey is that..." Shae squinted in the gloom "Coach Menke?" 

I recognized them now. Charlie Menke was the coach of Shae's swimming 
team, an athletic and easygoing bachelor around my age. His costume was 
an iconic getup with a pork pie hat and dark glasses: Walter White. It 
was a good fit, since he didn't look too far off from the suburban 
villain. The poor man was being practically dragged by the arms by a 
matched pair of giggling little animals. 

"Ow!" Charlie had banged his shin on something. "Come on, at least let 
me take off the glasses. I can barely see anything." 

"No way!" The furry figure on his right arm tugged it indignantly. "You 
can't take them off!" Tamara, a little 9-year-old girl from the swimming 
team, was an adorable kitty cat, decorated with delicate whiskers, furry 
ears, and a long, silky tail. 

"They're part of the costume. It doesn't work without the glasses." 
Angela admonished from the other side. She was a couple years older, 
equally adorable as an innocent puppy with drooping ears of felt and a 
pink collar with a heart on it. The girls almost looked like sisters, 
with face makeup and precious little plastic noses that perfected the 
innocent charm of their costumes. 

"But it's dark in here...I can't see anything." He protested feebly. 

"Don't be a wimp!" both girls echoed in unison. "You don't need to see. 
We'll lead you around," Angela pouted. "Come on, let's go do the games!" 

"Ok I guess, but - oof! That was a table!" The girls giggled 
hysterically as they led their willing prisoner by the arms down toward 
the open area. 

"He looks like he's having fun," I commented, stealing the last cookie 
off Shae's plate. Charlie was a good guy. We had had a reasonably candid 
talk at one point, and I realized my fears about Shae had been 
misplaced. He was a more cautious man than I had initially given him 
credit for. 

"I was pretty sure they would come together," Shae said, swallowing the 
last of her pretzel mix. "They've been spending a lot of time together. 
Like, a LOT of time." Shae had finally cleared her plate of goodies and 
pushed it away. "Daddy can we do some of the games?" 

I flicked her halo playfully. "Of course. Come on sweetie." 

The large space was composed of three connected rooms, partially 
separated by short segments of half-walls and different levels. We made 
our way past the tables in the middle to the open floor space and games 
on the lower level. The watermelon girl had won the relay game and was 
receiving a bulging sack of candy, and the apple bob seemed like they 
weren't about to start any new rounds soon. "Maybe we should have signed 
up earlier," I murmured to Shae. 

"It's ok. There's more over here too." We moved to a line of small 
booths and contests on the wall, passing a guess-your-weight game and 
stopping in front of a gaily-decorated fortune-teller's booth. 

A gorgeous woman smiled enigmatically at us, hovering over a crystal 
ball filled with writhing fog. She was costumed in the same style as the 
three gypsy girls we had seen earlier, with a cap of purple cloth and 
elaborate hooped earrings that hung down to shoulders wrapped around 
with a shawl of brocade and dangling fringes that jingled with small 
bits of shiny metal. Inscrutable eyes twinkled in the dim light, sizing 
me and my daughter up with a bewitching gaze, then she rested her 
fingertips on the surface of her ball and worked some kind of pedal that 
made light flicker eerily from the swirling interior. She chanted: 

"Cheery Angel, beckoned Devil, 
Smiles twined, bonds sewn tight. 
Samhain's portents, ye seek tonight?" 

Shae and I glanced at each other. "Portents, yes," I grinned. "We could 
use some of those. By the way - those 3 girls, the gypsies, are they 
with you?" 

A smile bloomed on her face as she dropped her act. "Oh yes, those 
are my girls. Little hellions, all three. She offered me her hand. "I'm 
Shasta. Nick has told me all about you, Mr Watts. Pleased to meet you." 
I shook her hand amiably. "And that must mean you are little Shae," she 
continued. "Hello sweetie." 

Shae offered her hand shyly, and Shasta reached out to shake it, but 
grabbed my daughter by the wrist at the last second and turned her palm 
upwards. 

"Hmmm, that explains a few things," she muttered coyly, tracing a crease 
in my daughter's palm with the tip of her long, painted nail. "I see..." 
She looked up at Shae, who was smiling self-consciously. "You're a lucky 
girl, honey. Some things in life are worth holding onto. You should 
remember that." 

Shae smiled politely, a guilty expression on her face. I wondered what 
she was thinking. 

I cleared my throat. "So, do you do this every year?" I asked. 

"Every year," she confirmed. "Nicholas and I go way back. You could say 
we owe a lot to each other. He and I both have...free spirits." The 
bracelets on her arm clattered as she rested back in her chair. "I help 
him organize and show up to tell fortunes. The girls love it." 

I opened my mouth to reply when my baby girl cut me off with a squeak: 
"Could you tell OUR fortune?" 

Shasta sized my daughter up with a mysterious gaze. "I'd love to, 
sweetie." She leaned forward, pressing her fingertips to the crystal 
ball with a dramatic flair. "Oh spirits, grant us your-" 

"ALSO um..." Shae interrupted her, then flushed crimson with 
embarrassment. She beckoned Shasta forward and cupped her hands to 
whisper in her ear. 

The woman's eyes flicked to me with surprise as she listened. 

"Yes, sweetie, I'll ask," she said cryptically, giving my daughter an 
almost motherly pat on her arm. Shasta leaned forward again, brow 
arching in concentration, resting the tips of her fingers against the 
orb. 

The gaseous swirling effect in the ball was almost hypnotic as Shasta 
moved her hands above it, humming an exotic melody, using the hidden 
pedal to control the flickering light inside. Nonsense words tumbled 
from her mouth, hazy and indeterminate, erratic chants converging into a 
subtle cadence that implored the supernatural. The fringes of her shawl 
jingled in time with the long earrings, swaying in a feverish rhythm 
until the ball burst with a bright light and faded suddenly. 

Shasta looked up at us, meeting our eyes as she looked from me to my 
daughter. 

"A turn in a pleasant road brings hazards, a quiet sunshine overshadowed 
with a rain that brings tears", she began. "Enjoy the good things you 
have, but be cautious and careful. Sometimes sacrifice is needed to keep 
the things that matter most. Watch for the choices you will both have to 
make, choices to secure your future. When a bond is weakest, that is 
when you must trust in it the hardest, and put your faith in what you 
have built together." 

She looked down at her darkened ball for a moment, then addressed Shae 
plainly. 

"I asked the spirits your question sweetie, but the answer is uncertain. 
All things are possible, but the ones that matter most to you will take 
the most work and will test you in ways you can't imagine." Her eyes 
flicked to me and back again to my daughter. "I think your heart is 
strong enough, but being strong also means being careful, and prudent, 
and having the fortitude to wait. If you want a tree, you must plant the 
seed and water it well, and allow it to grow in its own time. And there 
is plenty of time ahead." 

Shae stared at Shasta for a few seconds before nodding. I didn't think 
it was what she had been expecting. "Thank you Miss Shasta." We said our 
goodbyes and turned away. 

We walked down the wide hall, passing the other games in silence. I 
thought Shasta would give us a generic fortune, but instead she had 
confounded me. Had she been talking about me and Shae? What had Nick 
told her about us? My daughter had asked a private question and seemed 
upset at the answer. 

"What was that about sweetie?" I asked her. 

"Oh...nothing." 

I looked down at her, and she looked up at me. It hadn't been nothing. I 
squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. 

"Just girl stuff," she said, looking down again. Ok. If she wanted to 
say more she'd do it when she was ready. Pushing her wouldn't help. 

We walked past the ice cream station, and a cheery bounce came back like 
magic into my little girl's step. "Hey let's get some ice cream Daddy! 
It has sprinkles!" 

The machine was huge, and it did have sprinkles. And fudge, and gummi 
bears, and little cherries and butterscotch, chocolate chips, little 
licorice treats, and dozens of other goodies ready to be scooped out of 
wide bowls. I settled for vanilla with fudge while Shae pulled the lever 
for strawberry and then heaped toppings at random until her cup was 
almost overflowing. We took our cups and plopped ourselves on a couch in 
the upper level. 

Most of the games seemed to be winding down and a few of the girls had 
started to dance. I was wondering where the host of the evening was when 
he suddenly showed up, wearing his customary smile, each arm nestled 
comfortably around the shoulders of a pair of lovely girls. 

"There you are!" he boomed. "I've been looking for you two. You seem to 
be enjoying yourselves." 

Nick had transformed into a burly Persian warrior: tanned and oiled, 
bare-chested with chiseled muscles, a blue silk turban, and a neat sash 
girding his waist above baggy satin trousers that came to his knees. 
Jewels and a plume of gold decked the turban comically and a plastic 
scimitar belted at the waist completed the look. 

I rose to shake hands. Nick kept himself in very good shape, and I had 
to admit he cut a very dashing figure as he beamed at us. "Look at you 
two! An angel and a devil this time? What a perfect pair you make. And 
look at you, Shae. Captivating!" 

He put a teasing hand over his heart. "If ever a girl were possessed of 
such sweetly expressed elegance and supernal grace that I could believe 
she had wandered from Empyreal realms, yearning to capture a man's 
heart, 'twould be thee, fair angel." 

Shae stood slack-jawed for a moment, then blushed and giggled 
hysterically, as she always did when Nick got flowery. He possessed a 
full measure of that rare talent that made a girl's knees go weak when 
he complimented them, no matter how absurdly, and he loved to use it. 

"You remember Susie, of course." The little girl had styled herself as 
an Egyptian princess, with a sheer veil and a white top of wrapped linen 
cloth that crossed her tiny breasts and tied behind her back. A brocaded 
sarong with beige patterns wrapped her hips and hung down against her 
shapely legs, meeting the high laces of her sandals that twined her 
calves almost up to the knee. Eyeshadow and a set of golden serpent 
armbands with a matching tiara completed the look. The scanty outfit 
hugged the little girl's curves in a coyly suggestive theme. 

"Hi Shae Hi Mr Watts!" Susie squealed happily and hugged us both in 
rapid succession. I had met her a few times before, and she was a 
relentless hugger. She hugged. It was her defining factor. She squeezed 
me with her typical fiery enthusiasm, as though she was sure this one 
would be the last, crushing her tiny breasts against me as I rested my 
hands on the curves of her back and smelled the fragrance in her hair. 
Susie was hyperactive, perky to a fault, and an implacably cheerful 
smiler, and I was pretty sure she and Nick were an item. She utterly 
adored him. 

"And there's someone else I wanted you two to meet," Nick went on. 
"Chelsea here is one of our new clients in the preteen age group. She 
just had her 10th birthday this week." 

The stunning creature at his side was one of the most gorgeous girls I 
had ever laid eyes on: dusky-skinned with her long black hair tied back, 
gazing shyly at me with clear brown eyes the shape of almonds and long 
eyelashes the color of night. My greeting died in my throat and my brain 
locked up with the certainty that I had been transported to a 
long-forgotten boyhood fantasy about my favorite Disney princess: she 
was Jasmine. Or at least, she was dressed that way. The likeness was 
heart-stopping, as if the Arabian vixen had leaped out of the screen in 
the seductive visage of this exotic little girl. 

Nick covered for my strangled greeting with his usual grace. "Chelsea is 
in a slight pickle. Her mother was supposed to pick her up from the 
studio this afternoon to fly back home, but didn't show up." The girl 
dropped her gaze demurely, frowning at the floor and blushing. "She's 
completely welcome to stay at the studio as long as she likes, of 
course. All of our models are, but I didn't want to leave her there 
alone." Nick gave a comforting pat on the girl's bare shoulder. "Do you 
want to stay here with Shae and her Dad?" he asked the girl. "I have to 
talk business with some people tonight and it'll be boring, but there's 
a ton of stuff to do here. You and Shae are a lot alike. If you get her 
talking about clothes she won't be able to stop." 

Chelsea sized us up with a bashful gaze and nodded. 

"Great!" Nick enthused. "You guys will get along fine. Also, there's a 
special attraction this year which I didn't have time to tell anyone 
about beforehand." He looked around conspiratorially. "I had a friend 
down from Philadelphia and he stayed with me for a few months - a very 
talented fellow. He was an imagineer at Disney for years before he 
retired. When he saw that most of the east wing of the house was already 
cleared out, he volunteered to set up a haunted house. It's huge. It 
takes up the whole wing." 

He nodded at one of the roped-off exits from the main room. "If you go 
down that hallway and turn left, there's no way you can miss it. Once I 
told my friend he could cut loose, he flew down his crew and their 
supplies and they worked on it for a month - wouldn't even take payment 
beyond his expenses. It's his passion, as long as kids are involved. 
Apparently he does the same thing for free every year back in Philly - 
says he wants to keep making kids smile until he's too old to move. 

Chelsea had sat down on the couch next to Shae, eyeing my baby girl's 
angel costume with curiosity as they chatted. 

"Anyway," Nick had lowered his voice, "show her around and take care of 
her, will you? She was pretty upset when her mother stood her up. 
Apparently it's not the first time she's been left with nowhere to go." 

I nodded. "Her costume is...stunning. I'm amazed how creative most of 
the girls are. I mean, I know they're all professionals, but some of the 
outfits are so detailed." 

He laughed. "They ARE talented, no doubt about that, but they have some 
help too. Our wardrobe managers at SP are the best in the industry, and 
they love to help girls out. Also," he raised a finger, "August just 
ended. We had 62 studio shoots in August, and almost all of them were 
for costume catalogues aimed at girls. We have racks with hundreds of 
costumes just sitting around. The girls get to pick and choose the best 
pieces and modify them however they like." 

"Ah." I let my gaze fall on Chelsea again, admiring the fine details of 
both her costume and her body. "How lucky." 

"Very lucky. Oh, I almost forgot." Nick reached into his jacket pocket 
and retrieved a small silver key with a pink heart on the head, and 
folded it into my hand. "If you end up drinking a bit too much or if you 
and Shae get tuckered out and don't want to make the long drive back, 
you're welcome to lay over in the guest room here. You remember where 
the guest rooms are, just off the North hall in that direction." He 
nodded to the side. 

"Guest 3" was engraved on the side of the key. "Thanks Nick." 

"Of course. And make sure Chelsea has a good time, will you?" He gave me 
a final wink and waved goodbye to the girls before disappearing with 
Susie into the crowd of guests. 

Nick and I had a comfortable understanding. Our secrets were safe with 
each other, and he loved having Shae as a client. The photographers 
loved working with her too. He made an effort to give us the most 
private and comfortable spaces at the agency when we were there, and he 
was just as generous with his home. I pocketed the key. 

"-just LOVE how you sewed this silk on the skirt lining, it's perfect!" 
Chelsea had been disarmed, losing her shy mood as she chattered happily 
with my daughter. Clothing seemed to be their shared passion. "I did a 
shoot in an angel costume once, but it wasn't nearly this cool, and they 
gave me a fuzzy halo thing that was really light, but it was held up by 
a really tiny wire. My hair was a french braid and they pushed the wire 
down the middle of it, and it was so thin you couldn't even see it." 

"Oohhh, that's a good idea. This wire is way too big but I couldn't find 
a better one." Shae was fiddling with her halo and wings 
self-consciously. 

I let my eyes roam over the enchanting sight of the sweet little 
princess. The tight-fitting turquoise top wrapped her chest, covering a 
pair of budding breasts while leaving the rest of her chest and arms 
bare, and the pants were a loose-fitting pair of billowy, diaphanous 
cloth that hugged her rounded hips and ran down almost to her ankles. 
The cloth sparkled merrily, as if studded with glitter, teasing the eyes 
with a seductive translucence that revealed the girlish curves 
underneath. Both pieces were perfectly sewn, edged with a light turquoise 
border, and the large faux-jewel brooch at her waist matched the one in 
the clasp just above her breasts that held up a thin, silky shawl that 
curled around her upper arms and left her shoulders bare. A wide 
turquoise band with a shining jewel wrapped the swath of lovely 
raven-black hair that folded around her head and cascaded down her back 
like an onyx waterfall. A slender torc of gold around her neck matched 
the large hooped earrings, framing a perfect face of full lips and 
delicate features. 

The girls chattered eagerly, lost in their discussion of clothing. I 
knew I was staring, but I couldn't help it. The pants were sewn with a 
transparent outer skirt of filigreed white silk that dangled loosely and 
hid nothing. The translucent cloth drew my eyes like a moth to a flame. 
I couldn't be *sure* she was wearing a bra or panties, but in the dim 
light it was hard to tell. "Are you hungry at all Chelsea?" I 
interrupted. "Do you want something to eat? Shae and I were having some 
ice cream." 

"Oh I had some snacks so I'm not really hungry. Thanks though." She 
paused a moment, the frown returning to her face. "Mom was supposed to 
take me out for dinner." 

"That must have been disappointing. Do you know what happened to her?" 

"Oh yeah, she texted me a few hours ago. She was supposed to fly back 
from Hong Kong today, but she decided to stay there with her stupid 
boyfriend for another week." Chelsea sighed. "I mean, Nick will take 
care of me, so it's not that bad, but I guess I have to stay here until 
she decides to come home." 

There was an uncomfortable pause. "She does this sometimes, you know?" 
Chelsea said. "She said she wouldn't be late this time, but now...I 
guess I have to sit around bored for the next week." 

Damn, that wasn't right, just leaving a little girl alone like that. 
"Sorry hon, that sounds pretty rough. Sounds like she let you down." I 
rested my hand on her bare shoulder to comfort her. "On the upside, you 
don't have to be bored tonight at least. Nick's parties are always fun. 
Do you want to go through the haunted house?" 

"Oooh, can we Daddy? Come on Chelsea, let's do it!" Shae bubbled with 
enthusiasm and tugged her new friend's arm. 

"Ok sure". A smile dawned on the girl's face. "Let's go." 

                                  ~*~                                  

"Daddy I can't see anything." Shae was holding my pant leg on the right, 
huddling against me. 

"Hold your hands out." I groped blindly in the writhing fog, feeling the 
way forward in the darkness. A wretched, wheezing laugh echoed from 
somewhere to our side, like the rattle of a corpse. I felt Chelsea grab 
my pants on the other side, and I rested my hand on her back to guide 
her. 

"I think it's here...yeah". A red glow from under the loose floorboards 
guided us to a twisted doorway, the frame warped and distressed as if 
twisted by malevolent forces. 

Chelsea took a step forward, then shrieked and jumped in terror as a 
squalling sound of protest thumped against the board and a dim shape 
scuffled off with a clatter of claws on stone. 

"Ok, that was pretty cool," Shae said, laughing. "This place is neat." 

I had to give Nick's friend credit: the haunted house was a masterful 
job of professional spookiness, custom passages and flooring that 
twisted in a complicated path of foggy darkness throughout the entire 
wing. Our hallway was enclosed, tight and twisting with blind corners 
and frights everywhere. 

"It's creepy." Chelsea surveyed the gloom uncertainly. "I hate it when I 
can't see anything. All this fog everywhere..." 

"Ooooh maybe it's full of more scary rats!" Shae wriggled her fingers 
teasingly and made squeaking noises. "I'll bet that was just the baby. 
Momma rat is probably the size of a dog." 

"Stop it!" Chelsea slapped at Shae's angel wings and then laughed too. 

"We'll be ok," I said. "Take my hands." Both girls grabbed my wrists and 
we crept forward. 

We emerged into a straight hallway of wooden panels with silvery-blue 
light illuminating the creeping fog from underneath. Echoing sounds and 
whispers grew as we approached the end, unintelligible messages of 
gibbering madness that hovered on the edge of audibility. Following the 
passage, we approached a dead end with a large oval dressing mirror 
mounted ominously on the wall. The girls gripped my wrists like iron 
shackles and the whispering, grew more intense, dominated by the 
dreadful murmuring of an old woman's voice. The lights dimmed. I looked 
around, then my gaze caught the mirror again just as both girls shrieked 
and jumped against me; the frightful visage of a wraith appeared behind 
us in the reflection, swooping down on us with sinister menace. We 
whirled around in a panic, Shae stumbling and almost tripping over my 
legs, the moment ending in startled confusion - nothing. The hall was 
empty. A distant, malefic chuckle lingered in the air as a wooden panel 
slid aside on its own, revealing a hidden passage. 

An ancient studio of cobwebs and gloom greeted us at the end of the 
passage, filled with occult artifacts and lit by thick candles weeping 
long wax trails. The doorway slid shut behind us as silently as it had 
opened, trapping us in the room. I ran my fingers over the spines of 
thick tomes on one of the bookshelves, my finger coming away with a 
heavy layer of dust as it revealed the titles: Arcane Traditions, Fiat 
Tenebrae, Numbers of the Dead, Necrophagic Incantations. I smiled at the 
last book on the end: Kabbalah for Dummies. Someone had a sense of 
humor. 

Chelsea was examining the objects on the desk. She had picked up a 
spherical framework of bronze, and she twisted a lever on the side, 
watching with fascination as axles twisted in the interior, moving gears 
across toothed surface and causing curved plates to rotate over the 
surface in a complicated radial pattern. Shae was poking at the skeleton 
that lay slumped in the chair in the desk chair, perhaps expecting some 
kind of response. 

"Huh. There's no way out." My daughter remarked. Chelsea put the device 
back in a holder on the desk, looking around and finally pointing 
upwards. 

                 WIT AND CUNNING 
               DILIGENCE OF VISION 
                AND FORCE OF WILL 
               SAVE ALL WISE SOULS 
              THAT ENTER THIS ROOM 

The sign was obvious once you looked up. Next to it was a much smaller 
message: 

IF YOU GET STUCK JUST PRESS THE RED BUTTON BY THE PAINTING 

"Huh. I guess we have to figure out the secret before we can get out" 
Shae said. "We'll probably have to do it ourselves, you know," she 
smirked at Chelsea. "Daddy's not good at puzzles. He can't even beat the 
easy level on Minesweeper." 

My jaw dropped at this grave injustice. My baby girl was so unfair! I 
was GREAT at puzzles. Well maybe not great, but good. Passable. 
Sometimes. I opened my mouth to protest my total mastery of the 
knottiest of enigmas, but she was already ignoring me. 

"Hey look!" Chalk outlines had peeped out from under the corner of the 
large rug in the center of the room, and Chelsea flipped it back to 
reveal a pattern of arcane glyphs drawn on the floor. 

"There are more of them over here!" Shae bustled over to the corner. 
"See, they're connected." She followed the faint lines that swooped 
across the floor, leading outwards,connecting each of the symbols to 
each other. "There are more, but they're not connected." She gestured at 
some of the occult glyphs that peppered the walls of the room. 

"Hey I saw that one on the desk!" Chelsea dashed over and fingered a 
large book lying on the surface of the desk. It seemed to be glued down, 
but the cover swung open. "See, the symbols are in here. Each one has a 
word." She pointed. "That one is 'WIT'." 

"Oooooh." Shae dashed over to the line, nudging me aside like a useless 
lump. 

"I don't see these two anywhere, but that one is 'CUNNING'". 

"Got it!" My baby girl traced a line under each finger as she walked 
along, meeting at their nexus and continuing on until the line met the 
wall. "Hey, there's a little mouse hole here." She crouched down. "There 
like...a button inside. I can barely reach it." 

"That's it!" Chelsea crowed. The girls quickly located each word, 
tracing the pairs until their lines joined and following them to the 
end, finding the second button in the space under the desk and the third 
on the wall by the bookcase. None did anything when pressed by 
themselves. 

"We need to press them all at once," my daughter said. "Daddy you get 
that one. I'll get this one. Chelsea you get the mousehole - your hands 
are smaller." 

I leaned against the wall and enjoyed the view. My baby girl had to get 
on her hands and knees to get the button under the desk, and Chelsea had 
to do the same at the mousehole. 

"Ok, press it!" Shae yelled. I reached my hand up and pretended to thumb 
the button, grinning, enjoying the sight of my daughter's rump facing me 
and she was bent over, fluffy wings hovering over her back and the tiny 
folds of her pussy barely peeping out from under the skirt. 

"Did you press it? Press it again!" The girls called back and forth to 
each other while I spectated. Chelsea had to reach the farthest. Her 
rounded bottom was thrust up in the air, waving as she stretched her arm 
forward. The translucent cloth did very little to cover the curving 
globes of the little girl's behind. I stared, mesmerized. 

"DADDY! You're not pressing it!" Shae had turned her head to look back 
at me in exasperation, realizing my deception. 

Grinning fiendishly, I reached up with mock slowness and pressed the 
button. A motor whirred and a panel slid open on the section of wall 
opposite where we had entered. 

"Yeah!" The girls high-fived and ran ahead. The short passage led to a 
ladder extending up to the next level. Chelsea began climbing, her 
athletic body working in pleasing motions as she mounted each rung. Shae 
followed behind, fluffy wings and skirt swinging in rhythm, giving me 
another chance to savor the landscape of her backside: my little girl's 
pussy peeped like a treasure under the skirt, perfect lips puckering 
sweetly between her thighs as we climbed, hanging just a few feet in 
front of my face. Seeing the lovely collection of girls in skimpy and 
indecent costumes all evening had kept my cock on a slow burn for hours, 
but the pretty folds of my daughter's cunt hanging above me were stoking 
it to a painful bonfire. 

I had to stop and hang from one hand, using the other to adjust my 
pants. This suit really did not have the room to accommodate the bulging 
excitement my baby girl inevitably brought. Shae was beckoning me from 
the top of the ladder with a knowing smirk. "Come on slowpoke. Stop 
admiring the view." 

"Sure sure," I grumbled. " It's your fault you know." My daughter just 
laughed as I climbed up to the next floor. 

We were on an upper level, in a tunnel of creeping darkness and scuffed 
metal walls something like an old factory. Narrow spotlights from high 
above painted ovals of white light on the walls and floor, marred by the 
criss-crossing patterns of rusting grates. Chelsea led the way forward. 

"AAAH!" she squeaked with startled indignity as a powerful blast of air 
from the grate below blew her hair and light skirt upwards with a 
driving force, rippling the cloth of her costume around her body. "Ahh 
it's cold!" 

"Keep moving silly!" Shae poked her from behind, giggling. "It's just 
air!" 

"Ok...maybe there aren't any mo-EEEEK!" A gust from the side blew her 
hair and skirt horizontal. 

More blasts greeted us as we moved through the gloom, loud jets of 
frigid wind that tossed the girl's loose costumes about in powerful 
swirls. Shae giggled hysterically, stepping forward onto a grate Chelsea 
had passed, letting the roaring jet send her white skirt fluttering up 
against her arms, revealing her bare butt and pussy. "Save me from the 
scary air Daddy!" she snickered, hopping onto another grate and exposing 
herself again. In the darkness between spotlights, I took the 
opportunity to grasp the pretty bottom that she had been teasing me 
with, squeezing it with both hands and poking her in the back with the 
rigid pole in my pants. 

After a few more opportunistic gropings, we reached the end of the 
passage. A metal tunnel, like an air-conditioning duct, was the only way 
forward. "Guess we have to crawl!" Shae declared, clearly enjoying 
herself. She smoothed her skirt over her hips and got down on her hands 
and knees, crawling into the tunnel eagerly. 

"Ok uh...guess I'll go." Chelsea bent down hesitantly and entered the 
duct. I folded myself gingerly, trying to keep my raging erection from 
splitting the suit pants wide open, and followed. 

Rectangular LEDs running at the base of the duct cast a sallow 
illumination over the tunnel: black light. I kept crawling forward, 
following Chelsea, admiring the steady back-and-forth swishing of her 
shapely thighs beneath the tight curves of her behind, lost in a hazy 
comparison to the familiar slopes of my own daughter's rump. Abruptly, 
we stopped. 

"What's the holdup?" I shouted. 

"There's a...a hatch." Shae called back. "It's kinda stuck. Hang on." 
Banging sounds ensued from up front. 

I wasn't in any hurry. The tunnel was pretty tight, but a little girl's 
bottom is a work of art to be admired at leisure. Chelsea's butt hovered 
a few inches in front of my face. The black light cast a unique glow 
over everything, muting the tantalizing sparkle of her outfit, and I 
peered eagerly in the gloom. I was sure now: she wasn't wearing any 
panties! The delicate lips and darkened slit between them were scarcely 
visible, but I knew the sweet little hole was right there in front of 
me. My dick was a painful, surging rod threatening to burst the fabric of 
my pants. My fingers ached to reach out and brush those folds, confirm 
my theory and feel the moist prize nestled in that cleft, but I 
restrained myself. Panting, I waited, until something burst open with a 
clang ahead of us. 

"Got it!" Shae called. "It was kind of rusty. Ah. Oooooooh..." 

I saw why she had trailed off mysteriously once I crawled out and stood 
up. A dentist's chair with a spotlight over it hovered in the center of 
the room, a half-dissected alien corpse buckled into it with multiple 
restraints. The rest of the room was black-lit, revealing a creepy 
surgical center with chrome trays piled with bloodied scalpels, 
bonesaws, and retractors. 

"Ewwwww", said Chelsea, breaking the hushed stillness of the room. "I 
didn't even like dissecting a frog in biology class. Let's get out of 
here." She hurried to the far door. 

"It's not like it's a real alien," Shae proclaimed bravely. "Probably 
all rubber. Can't exactly get up and chase us around." 

I looked over at Shae to respond, and promptly burst out laughing. 

"What?" My daughter looked at me quizzically. 

I couldn't help it. I doubled over laughing. Chelsea gave me a queer 
look. I didn't think either girl really knew what black light did. 

"Nothing, nothing..." I wiped tears from my eyes. "It's nothing 
sweetie." 

Shae folded her arms and glared at me. The black light illuminated the 
sticky streaks on her top in glaring white and highlighted the dripping 
mess I had left around her mouth and neck when she sucked me off in the 
morning. I hadn't even realized I had got any in her hair. My little 
angel stared at me, puzzled, unaware of the evidence of her Daddy's love 
that speckled her everywhere. Chelsea was an unblemished canvas by 
comparison. 

"Come on," I grinned. "Let's go before the alien gets up and eats us." 
Shae rolled her eyes as we left. 

Narrow metal stairs guided us down to the first level, and a short 
passage led to the section of the haunted house that was outside. More 
whispering filtered through the darkness, and we entered a chilly 
graveyard of creeping fog. Tiny lights danced in the gloom above the 
tombs, eldritch wisps of muted colors. 

Pressing forward, passing closed coffins and tombstones, Shae led from 
the front while Chelsea held tightly to my side. She seemed scared. I 
guessed the audio was coming from concealed speakers, animating the 
dreadful gloom of the scene, frenzied whispers mixed with long groans 
and a low bass rumble of baleful menace. Glowing eyes winked on and off 
at us from murky corners. 

The coffins rattled erratically, as if things inside were scratching to 
get out, but nothing went bang. I kept expecting a scare, each second of 
whispering and scratching heightening the expectant intensity. We turned 
a corner and nothing happened. The path continued through a wrought-iron 
gate between two garish pillars, a gargoyle leering down from atop each. 
The woman's voice dominated the whispers again, urgent, frantic, staying 
just below intelligibility. 

Brilliant white light shattered the tension and we screamed as the 
figure of a withered hag rocketed towards us, shrieking incoherently. 
The spectre disappeared just as quickly as she had come, leaving the 
three of us cowering in darkness against the wall, my arms wrapped 
around the girls, panting in the room's sudden silence. 

"Let's get out of here," Shae gulped. The girls looked rattled. 

The tunnel darkened and narrowed, sloping down, both girls pressing 
against my sides as we squeezed along. The walls ahead were pockmarked 
with round holes and a limp hand protruded from each one. 

"Erk." Shae made a face as we squeezed past the dangling limbs. The 
walls were covered in them, dozens of identical hands, hanging out at 
every conceivable height and angle. 

"Freaky..." she murmured. "I'm pretty sure I saw this in a movie once. 
Hey do you think the come aliv-" 

On queue, the hands surrounding us animated, dozens of limbs grasping 
and rubbing and tugging our bodies in every direction. The girls 
shrieked in unison. 

"AGH! Oh gross! Come on Daddy!" Shae tugged me along, Chelsea hanging on 
tight. I couldn't help but laugh at the manic predictability of it as we 
pressed forward through the narrow crush of groping limbs. They grabbed 
and rotated in a repeating pattern, following their animatronic 
programming. Shae squealed and giggled with her typical girlish 
playfulness against the multitude of fumbling fingers, and I added 
myself to their number, sinking a hand down the back of her skirt and 
copping a feel of the soft flesh before rubbing my way up her smooth 
belly to squeeze her chest. 

Chelsea hung from my waist like a drowning girl on the other side, and I 
explored her too, palm roaming in a delighted circle around her bottom 
before giving it a brief squeeze through the thin cloth and following 
the smooth curve of her hip up to where her top tied in the back. She 
was even softer than I had imagined, warm, flawless skin yielding under 
my questing fingers, with a delicate neck and rounded shoulders, smooth 
flesh and arching curves in perfect proportions. I stayed out of her 
clothing though. 

Winded, we finally pulled free of the tangle of grasping hands, standing 
in the darkness and trying to catch our breath. I couldn't see an exit. 

"What now?" I wondered aloud. 

My heart leaped into my mouth as the floor dropped out from under us, 
and we tumbled down a short slide into a soft pit of foam cubes in a 
brightly lit room. I was wheezing, the disorientation perfectly timed to 
leave me in stunned in breathless laughter. There was a skirt in my 
face. A leg. Someone's arm was stuck up the back of my jacket. I was in 
a tangled heap of sweet girlflesh, chuckling wildly, and I didn't want to 
move. 

Turquoise and transparent silk: that would be Chelsea's cute little 
bottom, covering my face. I grinned at it in a daze until someone poked 
me savagely from underneath and a muffled voice yelled "MUFF DADDY GIT 
OFF UR TOO HEFFY". My resilient daughter, currently being squished to a 
pulp beneath me. 

Slowly, by small degrees, we untangled arms, legs, and clothing until we 
could extricate ourselves from the pit. The slide we came down had 
deposited us back in the house, in a small lounge with a bar, couches, 
and a pool table. Hazy, heart still thumping with adrenaline, I brushed 
myself off and tried in vain to straighten my rumpled jacket. Shae was a 
frazzled angel, hair mussed and halo crooked, wings bent to the side, 
examining a rip in her skirt with a frown. 

Chelsea had limped to a seat on the fuzzy couch, hiccuping. No, she was 
half-crying, looking down miserably and fighting off tears. 

"Oh no." I sat down beside her, putting a hand on her leg and trying to 
comfort her. "Honey, what's wrong? Are you ok?" 

The girl gave a small sob and shook her head slightly, wiping away a 
tear. Come to think of it, she hadn't said anything for the last ten 
minutes of our tour. I should have noticed she was having trouble. 

Shae came and sat on the other side of Chelsea and we rubbed her 
shoulders until the sniffles had mostly dried up. It couldn't stand to 
see a girl cry. Maybe it was my weakness. If the waterworks started, it 
was like being torn up inside and I'd capitulate to anything. Luckily, 
Shae had never used it against me. 

A guilty thought crossed my mind, remembering the liberties I had taken 
back in the tunnel of hands. 

"Chelsea, are you mad at me? Did I make you upset?" I asked. 

"No no", she brushed her eyes, trying in vain for a smile. "It's ok Mr 
Watts. It's not that." I breathed a sigh of relief. 

"I'll get you something to drink," I said, patting her leg, and got up, 
leaving the girls to chat quietly. 

Stocked for the party, the bar had mostly chilled punch in pitchers. I 
poured two plastic cups full, and then added a dollop of brandy to 
Chelsea's, just enough to help her calm down a bit. 

"Here you go honey." I handed the cups to Chelsea and Shae and sat down. 
Chelsea was already looking better. She was blotted her mascara where it 
had run and her face wasn't quite so pale anymore. 

"Thanks." She mustered a more genuine smile this time, and her breathing 
had returned to normal. Both girls slurped their punch noisily. 

"Pretty scary haunted house wasn't it?" I prompted. "Pretty amazing that 
Nick has a friend that sets them up for free." 

"Yeah. It was...super creepy." Chelsea looked down at her punch. "I mean 
I don't normally get scared of stuff. It's just..." 

I thought back. "It was that woman wasn't it?" 

Chelsea paused and then nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why. She kind of 
reminded me of my mom. She sounded like her." 

The girl took a deep breath. "Stupid, right? I mean, I love my mom." 
Chelsea trailed off into awkward silence, gazing into her cup. 

"...But?" I tried to coax more out of her. 

"But...well." Chelsea struggled to find the right words. "I guess I had 
been thinking about her. Most of the evening actually. I was pretty mad 
when she didn't show up and then texted me that she wasn't coming." Her 
throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Nick helped calm me down, said the 
party would be a good time and he had the perfect costume set aside for 
me. But I guess I was still mad. And then that old woman illusion in 
there, it sounded a lot like her, like she was drunk again and mad at me 
because I didn't get straight A's or my room wasn't clean when she got 
home or..." 

Chelsea quivered nervously, vulnerable. I rubbed her shoulder. 

"That sucks. That really sucks. She sounds awful." Shae said. 

I couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. "Don't feel bad honey. 
It's normal to feel upset when someone has let you down." Chelsea's 
sniffles were subsiding, and I could hear the growing noise of another 
party about to exit the haunted house. "Come on," I said. "Let's find a 
better place to relax." 

I helped the girl up with my hand and we trotted down the hallway. The 
haunted house passage had extended outside and all the way around to the 
far end of the wing. I had been here before and knew where we were - the 
far hall would lead to the swimming pool and out to the tennis court, 
but I led us to the guest rooms instead, following the dark oak 
panelling of the side hall. Diffuse light filtered from side runners in 
the corridor, coating the plants and tasteful paintings in cozy 
ambience. We passed through a lounge with white couches, dominated by a 
tremendous aquarium that covered the entirety of the far wall and filled 
with a profusion of fish that left the girls gaping. 

Chelsea was trailing just behind me, Shae in tow. "Do you normally live 
with your mom?" I asked her. 

"Yeah, I usually stay at her place in New York, except when we fly down 
here for modelling." The velvet of her turquoise slippers scuffed the 
carpet as she looked down. 

"Dad?" I prompted. She just shrugged. 

"Mom flies around a lot, but our housekeeper is really nice. She helps 
me if I need to get something or take the bus somewhere. Helps me with 
schoolwork too." 

"That sounds kind of lonely, if your mom is always out of town," Shae 
said. 

"Yeah sorta. It gets pretty boring. Maybe I need a boyfriend." 

"Yeah! Boyfriends are the best," my daughter quipped. "Hey you know that 
new photographer, Alejandro? He's the one that never wears a shirt 
during shoots. I heard him say to Nick that he wanted to do more shoots 
with you." 

"Oh...did he say that?" Chelsea giggled. "He seems nice." 

"He IS nice. I like him. He'd be a great boyfriend," Shae agreed. 

"Yeah. Shae, um...do you have a boyfriend?" 

"Of course I do!" my daughter spouted indignantly, and then nodded at 
me. 

Chelsea looked back and forth, not understanding. "Huh?" 

"Daddy's my boyfriend." Shae said casually. 

"Whaaa? Really?" Chelsea fixed me with a surprised look. 

"Yeah! Daddies are the BEST boyfriends you can get." 

The number 3 was engraved on a small plaque next to the panelled door. 
We had found it. The silver key with the heart fit the lock silently, 
and I gave the surprised Chelsea a reassuring smile as I opened the door 
and led them in. 

A comfortable loveseat, a huge flatpanel TV, a private bathroom, and a 
wide bed with cushy sheets: Nick spared no expense for his guests. 
Cherry oak and soft lights beckoned invitingly and gave the room an 
intimate, cozy atmosphere of relaxation. I knew it would be private, 
too. Nick prized the concept of privacy, treating it as a prime virtue, 
guaranteeing it unconditionally to his clients and guests and then 
living up to his word. 

The girls filtered in and flopped down next to each other on the 
loveseat. I closed the door behind them. 

"Maybe there's something good on." Shae fiddled with the remote, and 
brought up a spy movie in the midst of a harrowing chase through a 
market filled with a surprising amount of rickety stalls and fruit 
crates that toppled chaotically as the hero eluded the bad guys. 

There was a tiny kitchen and fridge, and I fixed a plate of cookies with 
a couple drinks of juice, then mixed brandy with soda for myself. 
Chelsea and Shae watched the movie as I watched them, the girls drenched 
in blue light from the television. 

They were light and dark sides of the same entrancing coin - my 
daughter's long blonde hair and fair skin clashed with Chelsea's dusky 
body and black braid, and I took my time enjoying the captivating sight 
of both girls. Shae was a soft jewel in white, halo and perky wings 
fitting accents to the short skirt and thin top - still hiding its 
present from me - that barely covered her breasts. Moving lights from 
the television played over her smooth tummy and lovely bare shoulders. 
Chelsea was the dark contrast, scarcely more covered and every inch of 
her living up to exquisite figure of an alluring princess. Translucent 
turquoise cloth hugged the graceful curves of her chest, tantalizing with 
hints of the sweet promise of the delicious little girl's body 
underneath, with the delicate skirt and silky folds of the leggings 
advertising their contents like wrapping paper. The twin jewels of the 
costume shined with reflected light from her headband and navel. 

I brought in the cookies and gave the girls their drinks before settling 
into the recliner. The chase had ended and the hero had fetched the 
luscious damsel back to his safehouse, where they were kissing 
passionately. 

"Whoa", murmured Chelsea, as the spy popped the buttons on the woman's 
blouse and the couple fell onto the bed. "They're really going to...uh" 

I sipped my drink as the woman's bra came off, revealing a perfect pair 
of breasts. I guessed the movie was rated for adults. Hands groped and 
pants went flying, and when both actors were fully naked and he was 
slipping inside her, I guessed the movie was rated a lot harder than 
that. 

"Wow he's really handsome," Chelsea sighed dreamily. "I've never done 
anything like that." 

"You haven't?" Shae seemed surprised at her 10-year-old friend's 
inexperience. "Nothing?" Chelsea shook her head. "You haven't even seen 
one?" The girl shrugged 

Shae switched the TV off, grabbing her friend by the hand and pulling her 
over to me. "Here, I'll show you." 

My daughter kneeled down, blue eyes gazing up at me with the sly twinkle 
of excitement as she reached for my pants. Her tiny fingers unfastened the 
button and yanked the zipper down at an eager pace. I helped her pull 
the pants down a bit, and she reached for the bulging tent of my boxers, 
fishing for her Daddy's cock until it sprung out proudly from the flap 
in the front. 

"Whoa!" Chelsea tittered nervously as my daughter handled the shaft of 
my erect prick. "I thought they were, I don't know, smaller." 

"Daddy's really big," my daughter said proudly, as if I was a prize to 
be shown off. Her fingers worked me with a few light strokes, enjoying 
playing with her Daddy's meat. 

"Yeah but...I mean how do you get on pants if it's like that?" Confusion 
marred her face as Chelsea tried to wrap her mind around the male organ. 

"Well, it's not easy sometimes," I ventured. "It can be a pain." 

"It's why men's pants have lots of space in the crotch," Shae said. 
"Plus I help him out, you know, if he's having trouble." More giggles 
ensued. 

My cock, cruelly teased all evening by the company of so many stunning 
girls, was already swelling to full strength in my daughter's grip. A 
brief moan escaped my mouth. The shaft bounced, muscles flexing 
involuntarily. 

"Whoa it moves on its own!" Chelsea kneeled next to her friend, mouth 
hanging open and eyes shining with curiosity. "I didn't know they could 
do that. Can I uh..." Chelsea looked up uncertainly, gaze flickering 
between me and my daughter. "Can I touch it?" 

"Of course honey." I hardly needed to be asked twice. Shae held me to 
the side, towards Chelsea, who reached out tentatively with her hand to 
feel a man's penis for the first time. 

Delicate fingers brushed my tip, feeling the slight trickle of precum 
beginning to work its way out, and then wrapped around my shaft above my 
daughter's hand. 

"It's soft!" Chelsea laughed, squeezing the rod of flesh in her hand 
repeatedly. "Some girl told me they were hard, like a rock." 

"Well she's stupid," Shae declared dismissively. "Don't listen to other 
girls unless they actually have a boyfriend. It's soft but you have to 
be gentle or it'll hurt." 

I was in heaven. These two sweet little girls had their hands wrapped 
around my prick, exploring it lovingly. Engorged flesh bulged in painful 
expectation, and I wondered how long I would be able to hold out. 

Precum was beginning to coat Chelsea's fingers as she rubbed my head. 
"So how does it, I mean how...uh." The 10-year-old girl could scarcely 
fumble out her question, mesmerized by the penis pointing at her face. 
"How does it work?" 

"Like this." My daughter pulled the head towards her mouth, and with a 
loving glance upwards, opened her mouth and wrapped her sweet lips 
around my cock. 

Fingers dug into the fabric of the recliner, shuddering, I closed my 
eyes. Pulsing warmth coated my prick as Shae ran her tongue over the 
bubbling head to get a taste and then started a slow bobbing motion, 
lips gliding over the tightened skin of my shaft as she worked more of 
the bulging cock into her mouth with each stroke. Making Daddy feel good 
was one of her many talents, and she had had a lot of opportunities to 
practice. Gentle suction sent warm jolts of pleasure spreading like 
electricity up my abdomen, my daughter working her mouth with eyes 
staring up, watching me intently for signs of how much I liked it and 
how close I was. Growing moans, leaking from my mouth like air from a 
tire, joined the slurping sounds of my daughter progressing down my 
shaft, fitting just slightly more of the thick meat into her mouth with 
each trip, inch after inch caressed by the tongue in her warm mouth 
until I could feel myself bottom out at the back of her throat. We had 
been working on deep throat a little, but my daughter was still just a 
bit too small to fit her Daddy's cock down her throat. 

Chelsea watched her friend pleasure her father, leaning forward as she 
kneeled, eyes boggling as she stared intently at the thick meat going 
into the little girl's mouth and coming out coated with glistening 
juices. I swallowed, desperately holding off the rumbling tide from 
below so I could enjoy this longer. 

Shae pulled up, my cock leaving her mouth with a wet popping sound. She 
could feel that her Daddy was already close to cumming, so she wound me 
down a little bit by grabbing the base of my shaft and playing with me 
lightly, letting Chelsea get a good view of the saliva and precum that 
coated the flesh, running down onto her hand in gooey channels. 

Chelsea opened her mouth to ask a question, then closed it. I think a 
silent message was passed in that mysterious, inaudible language that 
little girls seem to have, because Shae pointed my prick towards her, a 
clear invitation. 

Pleasure flared in engorged flesh as the lips and warm mouth of a little 
girl wrapped around a thick penis for the first time. Chelsea was 
hesitant, uncertain, but Shae encouraged her with small tips, coaxing 
her on until her inexperienced friend established a steady bobbing 
rhythm that sent wild lightning flashes shivering up my spine. 

"Agh, ah." I was panting, on the verge of losing control. Swirling, 
vibrating sensations of giddy warmth filled my muscles with tremors. My 
baby girl looked up at me, the little angel smiling coyly, seeing her 
Daddy tottering on the brink of orgasm. I clenched my fists as the storm 
in my crotch built into a roaring hurricane that seared every nerve with 
liquid fire. 

"Here," Shae coaxed her friend off her Daddy's cock, grabbing it and 
stroking it in long, rapid motions, her other hand rubbing her stomach 
and then travelling up to pinch her nipple through the thin top. Both 
girls were leaning forward as they kneeled, excited, panting, saliva 
dripping in messy channels down their chins. 

My daughter looked up at me. "Daddy, cum on us," she demanded. I could 
never say no to my daughter. I toppled into a surging climax, muscles 
clenching themselves into knots as my brain exploded, balls clenching 
urgently and sending a rushing torrent of frothy cum surging upwards 
towards the waiting little girls. I grabbed the base of my cock. A gooey 
spurt landed on my daughter's shoulder, and a quick rope whipped across 
her face and hair. Surging, tumbling, moaning in a tempest of ecstasy, I 
shot again and again. Eager jolts landed on Chelsea's top, on her 
shoulder and hair, and then I lost track, eyes shutting tight as 
blissful orgasm robbed me of every sense except my cock bulging with 
thrilling rapture as it fountained cum. 

I drifted in bliss as I dried up, my dick delivering a few parting shots 
before wilting in surrender. Someone was licking me as I went flaccid: 
Shae, cleaning me up, I realized, showing her friend how to do it. My 
baby girl had cum on her face and mouth and gooey wads in her hair, and 
a spurt that slashed her top was dribbling down onto the skin of her 
tummy. Stray flecks had scored hits on the yellow halo and the puffy 
white wings. The tiny portion of my brain that still worked wondered if 
they would come off. 

Chelsea had received just as much love: a gob had landed on her cheek 
and more was on her shoulder, with stray ropes of semen crisscrossing 
her belly down to her leggings. She wiped one with her finger, bringing 
the fluid to her mouth inquisitively, sniffing it and then tasting. 

"Huh, kinda salty." She licked her fingers clean. 

"It's a little weird at first, but after a few times it tastes really 
good," my daughter remarked, letting me go with her hand and running her 
tongue across her lips to clean up. 

My orgasm had left me drained, and I seemed to watch the girls from far 
away, like a diver swimming towards the glassy surface of the water. 
Finally I emerged into the present, becoming aware of my panting and 
the girlish giggling going on in front of me as the girls compared the 
damage to their costumes and counted each shot. 

"Jeez, that was cool," Chelsea was quivering with arousal, fingers 
touching my crumpled prick inquisitively. 

"It gets better. Come on!" Eagerly, Shae slapped her friend on the 
shoulder and pulled her to her feet. "Come on Daddy!" Shae pulled her 
friend by the hand onto the bed, the girls flopping onto the blankets as 
they laughed. I followed, feeling the familiar warmth build in my crotch 
again as I looked at the girls wrestling playfully on the bed. My pants 
came off and I kicked them to the side, then worked on the suit jacket. 
Shae seemed to be winning, and she finally pushed Chelsea onto her back 
and pinned her by sitting on her stomach. 

"Hah!" she crowed in victory. "No way you're just watching. I say you go 
first!" 

Chelsea looked over at me, panting on the bed, as I doffed the jacket 
and shirt, standing naked, erect again with my penis bouncing 
erratically. 

"Come on Daddy. You get to do her first. She volunteered." My baby girl 
smirked as she rolled off her friend. 

I crawled onto the bed and grabbed the little girl by the thighs, 
pulling her to me on her back. Chelsea lay quivering, uncertain, eager, 
horny, all the emotions of a little girl about to get fucked for the 
first time playing across her face. On my hands and knees, I leaned 
forward, looming over the tiny body. 

My hand cupped her head, feeling the silky softness of her raven hair on 
my fingers. "You ready sweetie?" I asked. She nodded shyly, a nervous 
smile on her face. "Yeah," she whispered. I bent down to embrace her, 
feeling the tender girl flesh under my hands. Our noses touched, hot 
breath washing over each other, lips hovering an inch apart. I waited, 
looking into her expectant eyes, until her lips brushed up against mine, 
softly at first, then pushing with an urgent passion, then I kissed her 
back fervently, letting my hands loose on her body, rubbing the light 
brown skin of her arms and squeezing her shoulders. Our lips parted, and 
our tongues made the first nervous foray into each other's mouths, 
meeting and dueling, then sliding together in their own union as we 
explored each other. Her shyness was evaporating, hands exploring my 
face and then trailing down to my muscled chest. 

Our lips parted with a pop, and I gazed down into into her flushed face. 
She was sweet and gorgeous, all warm skin and panting breath, smelling 
of a subtle, exotic perfume. I knew she could feel me poking down at 
her, thick meat pressing against her crotch and trailing across her 
thighs as we moved. Her brown eyes flicked down, then to my chest, hands 
curling in my chest hairs as she took in the form of the man making love 
to her, and finally back up to my face. I held her gaze close, warm 
breaths washing over the few inches that separated us, as I let my hands 
glide down her sides, feeling the girl's hips, her slender curves and 
rising up to her chest. I squeezed and rolled, feeling the faint promise 
of slightly growing breasts, and then twisted her nipples through the 
cloth. 

"Uuummmmmmmf." Her panting turned into a low moan, eyes closing tight as 
I felt her up. I kissed her forehead, then her cheeks and finally we 
pressed our lips together again, tasting each other. Hands dove under 
fabric, rubbing her chest, pinching her nipples gently as I felt for the 
little girl's signs. She wasn't as sensitive in her nipples as Shae, but 
after some brief teasing our kiss parted as she squeaked, and I felt her 
chest tighten up, back arching and hips wiggling under me as her 
breathing tripped over into the staccato beat of excitement. I was 
bulging, loving every inch of this little girl's frame under me, prick 
swelling up painfully with expectation. 

She was ready. I had to get inside her. I sat back and fumbled at the 
jeweled clasp that tied her leggings just below her navel. There was a 
little pin but it didn't want to move. 

"Oh it's kinda stuck..." She pushed my hands away, pulling desperately 
at the pin. "I realized it after I put it on." She wasn't having any 
more luck getting it off than I did. "Here maybe I can slide them down," 
she said, wiggling her hips. 

Fuck it. I grasped at the scrap of translucent cloth between her spread 
legs and ripped it open. No panties, I was right. The sweet, puffy lips 
of a little girl pussy greeted me. 

Chelsea flopped her head back violently onto the pillow when my fingers 
brushed her for the first time. "Unnnnng..." Trailing moans escaped her 
mouth, warbling in a girlish lilt of excitement not quite like any I had 
heard before. Shae was sitting beside her, one hand buried under her 
skirt while she let the other rub Chelsea's shoulder comfortingly. I 
trailed my fingers outside her lips, feeling the hot skin, and then 
tickled her hood again. Chelsea's back arched electrically, forcing 
another moan out. This girl was sensitive beyond belief. I teased her 
gently, almost imperceptibly, drawing the barest scratches across her 
clit, earning a shuddering response each time. My baby girl was 
sensitive in her nipples, but this girl was oversensitive in her clit! I 
tried not to overdo it, and ventured down to slide along the moist 
channel, coating my fingers with juice. 

"Shae...it's..." Chelsea was gasping frantically, looking up at my 
daughter. I wondered if she was on the brink of orgasm already. Shae 
smiled down. 

"It hurts a little bit the first time, but after that it feels amazing." 
She massaged Chelsea's shoulder. "Just try to relax your muscles." 
Chelsea gulped and nodded, and then my daughter did something I had 
never seen her do before: she bent down, halo bobbing, brushing her 
friend's lips with her own, and then buried her in a kiss. 

I could feel Chelsea's thighs flex with excitement, and I took the 
opportunity: sliding my index finger down the wet groove of her pussy, I 
slipped into the tight channel beneath. Locked in a kiss with my 
daughter, Chelsea squirmed with excitement as I probed her insides, 
sliding gently in up to the second knuckle. 

"mmmmmMMMMMFFFFF" Chelsea's pleading groan grew in volume until the 
girls broke their kiss. She was a panting wreck now, writhing 
erratically, throat flushed crimson. I had felt the telltale squeeze of 
her pussy when I entered her, and knew she was on the brink. 

There are few things as sweet as taking a little girl's virginity. My 
hungry hands pulled the rip in the cloth wider, and I repositioned 
myself to line up with the little girl's hole, tickling her briefly with 
the head. She didn't even need it. Shae was holding her shoulder and 
hand as the little girl panted. I couldn't waste any more time, but it 
wouldn't do to hurry either. A girl's first time should be wonderful, 
and you couldn't do that if you went too fast. 

I squeezed the head inside, paying close attention, watching the muscles 
tense in her throat. Fucking a virgin girl was like an art. The tiny 
pussy stretched around my girth as I pushed farther in, warm wetness 
engulfing my prick, squeezing it tightly. Another inch and I stopped. 
Eyes that closed and quivered, a brief, tense inhale as I pushed against 
her maidenhead, the arching neck and groan - I watched her swell to a 
peak, and then with a tight, glorious thrust, I was through. 

If not for Shae holding her hand, Chelsea might have flopped around like 
a fish. She squealed briefly and then rested back, before wiggling 
frantically as I began to move my cock back and forth. This gorgeous, 
delicate princess was the most sensitive girl I had ever fucked. Her 
tight tunnel squeezed my prick almost painfully, spasming wildly with 
pleasure. I knew Chelsea was tipping into orgasm, and I was right on the 
verge myself, a warm current of rising pleasure flooding out from my 
cock as I buried it inside the little 10-year-old. I pulled back and 
squeezed in again, carefully, giving the girl a gentle rhythm, letting 
her get used to the feeling and backing off whenever her brows furrowed 
in discomfort. 

Abruptly, she arched her back up, moaning ecstatically, and her pussy 
clamped down on me like a slippery vise. The girl shuddered in her first 
orgasm, moaning in a torrent of pleasure, and the vibrations coaxed an 
answering flood of cum that gushed up from my balls and exploded into 
her pussy. 

Rigid muscles clamped around me. Taut muscles beat a frenzied rhythm 
against my thighs. Hands reached up and pulled me down violently, 
needfully, and I let my chest rest against hers, the girl's quivering 
body grating her perky nipples across my skin. She bucked and squirmed, 
cooing and writhing maniacally as a man's cock impaled her for the first 
time and flooded her tummy with cum, reducing her to a shivering wreck. 
Tiny hands clenched my arms and back like a drowning victim, 
white-knuckled, flailing in time with the erratic moans of a little 
girl's first thundering orgasm. My weight held her firmly against the 
bed, enfolding her thin frame, keeping the bucking girl from bouncing 
off my surging cock. She was the sweet smell of bliss and hot breath, 
tangled hair, skin slick from the sweat mixing between our bodies, and I 
lost myself in the warm fog of our ecstasy as we clutched each other 
against the sheets. 

A familiar hand trailed down my spine lovingly, lingering on the dew of 
my beaded sweat: Shae, the touch of my baby girl, a distant thrill that 
rumbled in time with the passion of the sweet kiss on my lips. Chelsea's 
hands were around my neck, the little girl's tongue tangling with mine 
in lustful enthusiasm as I lingered in a daze. 

With a deep breath, I gathered my wits and unwrapped myself from the 
clutching limbs, drooping cock slipping from the little girl's pussy 
with a regretful pop. Chelsea was a languid warmth where I had crushed 
her against the sheets, panting with satisfaction. No sunrise ever 
filled the world with such a welcome radiance as that of a little girl, 
freshly fucked and smiling, with cum still dripping from her pussy; the 
warm glow suffused her dusky body from the tangled dark hair to toes 
still curling reflexively as she propped herself up on her elbows. 

"Ooooohoooohh," Chelsea paired her moan with a wild droop of her head 
backwards against the pillow, the muscles in her arched neck coiling 
around the long exhalation. "That was...I mean..." She swallowed. "That 
was amazing." Shae beamed at her friend and rubbed her forearm with warm 
affection. 

"So do you guys do that all the time?" Chelsea asked. 

"Of course!" my daughter crowed. "If you have a good boyfriend, you do 
it all the time, and my Daddy is the BEST!" 

"Wow. That sounds really nice." Chelsea flopped back onto the tangled 
covers, then rolled onto her side. She didn't seem to have any lingering 
pain from the loss of her virginity - I had done it right. 

"I guess I never heard of someone being boyfriends with their Daddy 
before." Chelsea's looked down at the sheets, stirring them idly with 
her brown fingers. "I didn't know it felt so good." Chelsea looked at 
me. "Does it always feel like that?" 

"It gets even better," I assured her. "It hurt a little bit this time, 
but next time it won't hurt at all. Sex feels even better the more you 
get used to it." 

"Plus there's so much other cool stuff you can do!" Shae bubbled 
enthusiastically. "Sucking it and taking it inside you are awesome, but 
there's also special clothes you can wear. You know the closed-door 
photo shoots SP does for private catalogues? They're usually for those 
kinds of outfits. I'll have to show you some of the ones I have." 

"Oh cool. I'd love that." Chelsea straightened and sat up. "So when you 
say ALL the time...how much do you mean?" 

A knowing glance passed between me and my baby girl, and we chuckled 
loudly. "ALL the time," Shae said. "Here, you can watch." 

The halo bobbed excitedly as my sweet little angel wrapped her arms 
around me, feathered wings rustling in anticipation. I pulled my 
daughter onto my lap and let her sit on her knees, a snuggling little 
cherub of sparkling eyes that pretended innocence as she bent forward to 
kiss me. I needed no encouragement, not when I was in bed with two horny 
little girls. My cock was already surging to life again, poking up at 
the treasure under my baby girl's skirt. 

"Here Daddy, lie back so she has a good view," Shae directed, putting a 
hand on my shoulder to guide me down onto the pillow. I let her push me 
down, resting on my back, hands massaging the sweet thighs of my 
daughter wrapped around my waist. She wanted to be on top, and I was in 
no position to argue as she slid her hips forward, hiding her Daddy's 
bulging cock under the angelic skirt. 

Even though I had just stuffed her full of my dick a few minutes ago, 
Chelsea watched curiously, wide-eyed as my baby girl began a slow 
rhythm, rubbing the moist folds of her tiny pussy across the underside 
of my cock, getting ready. She was wet, practically dripping, the slow 
boil of latent sexual excitement from watching her Daddy take her 
friend's virginity rising to a heady excitement and threatening to burst. 
I knew every inch of my lovely daughter, inside and out, knew the signs 
of my angel on the cusp of climax: tense muscles quivering behind her 
belly button, nostrils flaring and head nodding excitedly as her Daddy's 
thick prick rubbed through her channel. Petite fingers rubbed the slick 
grooves of my sweaty chest, curling in my hair, and she clenched, poking 
hard against me with her index fingers. My baby girl was close already, 
and I hadn't even got inside her yet. 

Thin silk and translucent cloth rustled as Shae raised her skirt, giving 
her bug-eyed friend a prime view of the wide shaft rubbing moist strokes 
of pre-cum against her puffy lips. Chelsea's head rested almost on my 
thigh, the curious girl edging forward to get a closer view. 

"Daddy, you came on me twice today." Shae was panting as she pushed down 
at me with gentle humping motions. "Now I want you to come inside me." 

I would have bubbled out some kind of agreement, if my throat weren't 
already twisting itself into knots from the glorious feeling of my 
daughter's cunt tracking greasy fluids in slow, slippery strokes along 
my meat. She traced one more long motion from my balls up to my glans 
and then raised her hips up. Tiny fingers wrapped my shaft to hold it 
still, and with a satisfied sigh she sank onto her Daddy's cock. 

Warmth engulfed me, wrapping around the head of my prick with a 
thrilling squeeze as it popped inside. The lovely, gripping channel of 
my baby girl's pussy was heaven, and she lowered herself in moaning 
degrees, slipping down with small rocking motions and exhalations onto 
the wide shaft, settling her Daddy's manhood inside her pussy where it 
belonged. Shae was still a very tight little girl and probably always 
would be, but the lingering juices from her friend's cunt mixed with her 
own, squishing against the beating walls of her insides and lubricating 
the long, slow drop onto the thick organ that she could never get enough 
of. 

My baby girl's eyes were glazed, fixed on my face as a rushed exhalation 
pushed her mouth into a trembling 'o' shape. Transfixed, Chelsea stared, 
a stray hand reaching down to work circles over her clit. Her nose 
brushed my leg just a few inches from the spot where my cock was 
entering my daughter, the girl peering intently at our joining, at the 
tender pussy lips spreading into a strained circle around the thick meat 
as she lowered herself. 

"Do you know why I like to watch you do other girls Daddy?" My baby girl 
pulled herself up, lips gripping me with glorious suction, and then 
squeezed down again, getting another half inch inside her. 

I shook my head slightly, mute with bliss. Shae was a sharing girl: she 
loved to share everything, and didn't seem to mind sharing me either as 
long as it was on her terms. I guess I had never questioned it beyond 
that. 

"It's because..." she panted, sliding up, "..it reminds me...Daddy" - 
she chuffed on the downstroke as I filled her again - "...of the first 
time..." - a sweet constriction as she pulled up - "...that we had 
sex..." - a slippery plunge, almost to the bottom. "Do you remember that 
Daddy? Back at the beachhouse that we rented every summer." She gulped 
air, sweaty with the effort of taking me inside her. 

"There's no way I could ever forget that sweetie." I squeezed her 
thighs, watching her wings tremble in time with the throbbing of my cock 
inside her. "Not in a million years. It was the best day of my life. 
EVERY day we make love is the best day of my life." Staring into my baby 
girl's eyes, drowning in sapphire pools, I was overwhelmed, heart 
erupting as I poured out the joy she brought me. "Nobody else completes 
me like you do, Shae. I'd be lost without you." My daughter was 
sometimes an emotional lover, and I loved that just like I loved 
everything else about her. 

The dragging upstroke peaked, and I felt the wonderful stretching motion 
of my daughter's stomach communicated in the swell of muscles in her 
crotch as she spread her legs just slightly and heaved a final gasp, 
squeezing down in an urgent push that sucked in every quavering inch of 
her Daddy's cock until she bottomed out with my balls pressed against 
her bottom. 

The long slide reverberated into a bolt of pink lightning that screamed 
from my crotch to my brain, coiling into a tempest of feral energy 
centered at the point where my dick entered my daughter. Shae had me on 
the brink, ready to cum a third time already. 

The muscles in her throat clenched then relaxed as my baby girl enjoyed 
the feeling of her Daddy filling her up. Her eyes were still fixed on 
me, watching keenly for the sure signs of my pleasure as we made love. 

"I remember, I wanted to make you happy. It was a good summer but you 
seemed like you were always sad and working. I wanted to make you happy 
so badly. Do I make you happy Daddy?" 

"Yes!" I blurted, powerful reflex ripping the word from my mouth. "You 
will always, ALWAYS make me happy, baby girl." I reached up to grab her 
hands around the wrists, catching them as she rubbed my chest, then 
twining my fingers around hers as I bounced her slowly on my crotch to 
keep rhythm. "I wish I knew how to say it better. Every day you make me 
more happy." My throat twisted. Even on the verge of cumming in my baby 
girl, I wanted to hold her, hug her, fill her face with a joyful smile, 
whisper in her ear and shout my love for her from the rooftops, all at 
once. She was never just a lover to me. She was the sunshine of my life, 
and nothing could ever eclipse her. 

It must have been enough. My daughter rocked back, satisfaction on her 
face, and began to ride me in long strokes. She was beautiful beyond 
words. Golden hair bounced in soft waves, a shining river that ran down 
the valley of her back between her wings. The angelic outfit and bobbing 
halo above her youthful face could have been a convincing illusion of 
innocence if not for the sticky globs of cum still drying on her 
shoulder and stomach and the thick penis stuffed inside her. Entrancing, 
gorgeous, she was a celestial ideal of girlish purity, like an angel had 
fallen from heaven and landed on my cock. 

A third round for me usually lasts a lot longer, but the perky wings and 
lively costume were an aphrodisiac, stoking the fierce energy that had 
mounted all evening from watching her. Shae was still holding her skirt 
up, letting her friend watch as her Daddy pistoned into her with 
increasingly urgent force. I grabbed the thin strap of her top and 
pushed it up, revealing the remains of the prize I had left on my 
daughter's flat breasts. Her pink nipples were playtoys in my hands. I 
twisted and pinched, roughly, pulling my baby girl along with me to 
orgasm, then ran my hands down her sides and over the lovely swell of 
her hips, grabbing them and holding her down with a grunt as she 
bottomed out on a long stroke. 

My balls clenched and I erupted like volcano as I felt Shae clamp her 
thighs together and squeal with pleasure. Cunt muscles wrapped my prick, 
pulling tight and squeezing, holding me inside while I flooded my 
daughter's womb with a raging torrent of her Daddy's seed. Muscles 
jerked and twisted, our bodies flailing with internal madness as we 
joined each other in connected ecstasy. Shae squealed again, then 
flopped down against my chest ferociously, letting her bottom guide her 
pussy down my shaft in a few final aching strokes as the bulging flesh 
inside her sputtered hot jets of fluid like a firehose. 

White light and hot flashes, an overwhelming euphoric buzzing dwindling 
to light static, a sweet kiss on my mouth and a head cradled against my 
neck - the tide of orgasm receded achingly as I spent myself inside my 
daughter's pussy. A blanket of warm, sweet-smelling skin was draped over 
me - my baby girl clutching me tightly as we heaved with shared 
exertion. Arms and legs locked around each other, chests rubbing, 
trading warmth and wetness, Daddy connected to his baby girl by the 
cherished bond at our crotches. We fit each other so well, every joint 
and crease nestled perfectly, daughter molded to the skin of her father 
like clothing, entwined in shared heat and love. She was the angel who 
made me happy. 

We were loathe to move, shackled by chains of post-coital bliss, sharing 
the slowing tempo of our breath and heartbeats. 

Chelsea flopped beside us on the pillow. "Whoa, you guys looked like you 
were so into it! That's really sweet." 

Shae turned a lethargic head to face the girl. "Told ya," she mumbled, 
smiling. I yanked a blanket over the drowsy girl stuck to me, and pulled 
it to the side so it covered Chelsea too. With great reluctance, Shae 
finally slipped off to my side, then pressed up against me like a life 
preserver. Chelsea snuggled up on the other side, and I wrapped an arm 
sluggishly around each girl. 

"Hey can we do it again?" Chelsea bumped my leg with her foot 
questioningly. 

I couldn't suppress a heavy chuckle as I rubbed her shoulder. "In a 
little bit sweetie. I need time to uh...recharge." 

"Recharge? You need to recharge?" Chelsea was dumbfounded. 

"Yeah dummy," Shae yawned from the other side. "Guys need a little time 
to rest." 

"Oh, I didn't know that." Chelsea squirmed restlessly. 

"I mean, Daddy can go for pretty long, but we did ...make him cum ...3 
times." Torpid mumbles turned into yawns and my daughter buried her head 
under my armpit. 

"Oh, ok." Chelsea rolled onto her back and kicked her legs under the 
covers. "Maybe Mom will take me home tomorrow." 

"What?!" Shae was suddenly wide awake. "No way, you said she'd be gone 
all week. You're staying with us!" 

"Oh! Really? You'll let me stay with you Mr. Watts?" Questioning brown 
eyes looked up at me, vainly trying to conceal the pleading hope behind 
them. 

Numbed as I was, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course you can." I 
turned my head to plant a welcoming kiss on her forehead just under the 
turquoise jewel of her headband. "You can stay with us as long as you 
like Chelsea. You're more than welcome. Our home is your home, and any 
time you're down here we'd be thrilled to have you." The answering grin 
on the little girl's face made it seem like that was the first welcome 
invitation she had had in a long time. 

"Hey you can show me those clothes you told me about Shae!" Chelsea 
bubbled. 

"Sure. And if your mom calls you can tell her to drop dead and stay in 
Hong Kong for another year." Shae was losing the battle against a rising 
tide of yawns. "We can have tons of fun. BUT, you have to promise me one 
thing." She waved a finger menacingly at Chelsea from across my chest. 

"What?" 

"Just don't tire Daddy out too much." My daughter patted my chest 
affectionately. "Leave some for me." 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
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