The Dollhouse

John Greene sat on the loveseat in Amelia Pritchard's office. She sat in a chair opposite him, reviewing his resume. He alternated between nervously twiddling his fingers and trying to sneak looks at Amelia's body without being noticed. Her long legs were crossed at the ankles, just above her smart, expensive-looking pumps. Then his eyes were drawn up to her chest, where her ample breasts pushed against the fabric of her white blouse, straining the buttons. Even though she wore the top few buttons undone, the rest of them threatened to pop open at a moment's notice, especially when she inhaled deeply like she was doing at the moment.

Amelia flipped through the pages of John's resume and references with a pencil in her mouth. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, leaning further forward, giving John an even better view down her blouse.

"Impressive resume, Mr. Greene," she said in her British accent. Then, looking up at him with her steely, grey eyes, "I like what I see."

John cleared his throat and switched his gaze up to her eyes.

Don't blow this, John. Don't creep her out. Her eyes are up there, he admonished himself.

"Thank you, Miss Pritchard," he said, fighting the urge to look back down at her cleavage. Fortunately, her eyes were incredibly beautiful, too. And so was her hair, he thought, as his gaze moved about. John was a sucker for brunettes, especially with wavy or curled hair, and Amelia's wavy, dark locks were to his liking.

Amelia noticed John looking at her hair, and reached up and tousled it a bit, while remaining eye contact with him.

John's eyes got big. Oh my god, is she flirting with me? He gulped.

"Do you think I'm pretty, Mr. Greene?" she asked.

John's mouth dropped open.

"Uh. Yeah. Yes, I do, Miss Pritchard. Why? Is that part of the interview?" he asked, trying to regain his composure.

Amelia smiled and let her eyes move down to his crotch, where his dick was beginning to swell up with arousal, before looking back up to his eyes.

"Do you understand the nature of this position, Mr. Greene?" she deflected.

John thought back to what Sharon had told him: a therapist for sexually traumatized girls involving some very unorthodox methodologies.

"Well," he began, "I assume I'll be acting in the role of a therapist."

"That's the tip of the iceberg, yes," Amelia said. She rose from her chair and came to sit next to him on the loveseat.

"We have a very specific sort of clientele here at the Dollhouse," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "All our clients are young females, minors, who have sexual... issues. Usually, these issues arise from abuse in their past."

John nodded nervously as Amelia's hand moved from his arm to his thigh.

"Do you know what kind of lives most girls lead who have been sexually abused, Mr. Greene?" she asked.

John gulped as her hand moved very slowly up his thigh.

"I know that..." her touch sent shivers up his spine. What the fuck kind of interview is this? "...that they have a very hard time... with social situations that have..." he gasped as her hand moved up to where his cock strained against his pants leg. He was trying to be professional. He wanted this job. He needed this since his wife had left him, taking pretty much everything in the divorce. "...that have triggers that..." Her fingers trailed around the outline of the head of his dick. "...that, uh, oh, uh take them back to the abusive... situation."

He couldn't take his eyes off her slender fingers as they began to rub up and down the side of his shaft. He was fully engorged now, but his penis was trapped along his leg, magnifying every sensation from her touch. He gulped as a wet spot started to form on his pants where his precum oozed out of his head.

"Precisely, Mr. Greene," Amelia said as she continued to tease his cock through his pants. "If a girl never learns to work through her abuse, then she relives that trauma over and over again."

John nodded, trying to focus on the clinical aspect of things rather than from the sensations emanating from his cock.

Dear God, he thought, I'd gladly fuck this woman to get this job. Just, please, I can't take much more of this teasing.

Amelia's hand moved from his pants up to his chin, lifting his face up to hers. She was leaning in incredibly close, so close that he could smell her delicious aroma and feel the warmth of her face against his as her breath was moving against his skin. He looked her in the eyes, breathing heavily.

"What if I told you that you could help these abused little girls overcome their trauma, Mr. Greene?" she asked, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

"How?" he asked.

"By fucking them," she said, her mouth just inches away from his.

"What?" John gasped.

Amelia quickly stood and walked over to her desk.

"I have both anecdotal and empirical proof that one can overcome a girl's trauma and redeem her ability to enjoy sex by recreating the moment of abuse and transforming it into one of love."

John's head was spinning. With his cock still aching in his pants, he wasn't sure he was thinking clearly.

"How can...? But that's..." he couldn't find the words to express his disbelief.

"Shocking, I know," Amelia said, leaning back on the edge of her desk with her long legs stretching out in front of her. "But I assure you, Mr. Greene that it is possible."

"Holy shit," John gasped.

"Indeed," Amelia replied.

She picked up a manila folder from her desk and brought it over to John. Sitting down beside him again, she dropped the folder in his lap. He groaned as it landed on his dick, causing him to jump.

John glanced nervously at Amelia before lifting up the folder and opening it. Inside he found a picture of a beautiful little girl with incredibly sad eyes. The 5x7 photograph was almost like a mug shot. He assumed it had been taken when the girl was admitted into this facility.

"Little Madison here is my first success story," Amelia explained. "She was raped both vaginally and anally by her stepfather on her eleventh birthday. The man tore through her hymen and left her crumpled up and crying in a closet where the police found her. Reportedly, he had discovered that her mother was cheating on him and took it out on the little girl. When the mother found out, she stabbed the man repeatedly. When she went to prison, Madison came to me."

John glanced through the documents behind the picture which seemed to confirm what Amelia was telling him. He touched the face in the photograph. There was something familiar about the girl, like she reminded him of someone he knew, but he couldn't place it.

"How long has she been receiving treatment here?" he asked.

"Four months," Amelia told him. "And in that time, I have been able to redeem Madison from her sexual trauma."

"How?" John asked, looking at Amelia incredulously.

"With sex," she told him. "With loving sexual contact. Madison and I have grown a bond to replace the one shattered by her mother and stepfather."

"You have sex with an eleven-year-old?"

"Madison is twelve now. And yes. We are partners. But it's more than just fucking, John. We love each other."

John's stomach turned. This was too much.

"That's sick," he said.

"And yet your cock has not deflated in your pants," Amelia pointed out.

John looked at her with fear in his eyes.

"I know about your attraction towards underage girls, Mr. Greene," she told him. "It's a major part of why you are here. In fact, while one half of you believes that my relationship with Madison is horrible and disgusting, the other half of you is seriously turned on."

John looked down and swallowed. "How did you know?"

"Well, I performed a very thorough background check. It seems your divorce might have had something to do with your wife's belief that you are a pedophile. Oh, I don't believe you have ever touched a little girl before. Nothing in your past suggests that you are capable of crossing that line. But in your fantasy life..."

Amelia smiled as John's eyes lit up.

"Yes, now you've made the connection, the senator was the one who recommended that you apply for this position, was she not?"

John flashed back to the memory of state senator Sharon Rose lying on her back in front of him in a schoolgirl uniform. Her panties were hanging from one foot, and her skirt was pushed up to expose her hairless cunt. "Fuck me, Daddy," she had said over and over. Acting out his fantasy with Sharon at the sex club he regularly attended had been the only thing that kept him halfway sane as he went through his divorce.

When Sharon told him about this job, he thought it was just his experience with counseling underage girls, but it appeared to be more.

"I can change your life," Amelia told him. "And a new life is exactly what you need right now."

He looked up at her, dumbfounded.

"When you meet Madison, you'll see that she's a healthy, vibrant little twelve-year-old. Albeit, one with a very voracious sex life. But she's happy and whole."

"Meet her?" John asked.

"Yes, I would very much like for you to meet her. However, there are some things we have to go over first."

John looked down at the picture of the little girl in his lap as Amelia walked back over to her desk and picked up a clipboard and a pen. She turned and sat on the edge of her desk.

"First off, I need you to understand what I'm asking of you. You will be a therapist, yes. You will assist me in the assessment and treatment of the mental stability of the girls living in this house. But our sessions will not always be the typical form of therapy."

"How so?" John asked.

"So far, I have used various methods to reintroduce the concept of sex into these girls' lives. With some, I take it gently, discussing sex, watching videos, gentle touches."

"Grooming," John stated.

"Yes: the same techniques that pedophiles use to break down the barriers with their victims. However, in this case, I am not doing it solely for my own selfish benefit. I am doing it to help the girls get reacquainted -- and in some instances, acquainted for the first time -- with healthy sexual concepts. We practice touching, kissing, petting. The speed at which things progress depends on the girl's history and... curiosity. Some of them, like Madison, have never known sex in a positive light. So I show them that it can -- and usually does -- make people feel good."

John took a deep breath and let it out.

"So you... make out... with little girls?" he asked.

"Yes. I find that kissing is an excellent place to start. Something that they are familiar with but that they didn't know could lead to such pleasure."

"Wow," John said.

John adjusted his dick in his pants as his mind struggled with these concepts.

"I see that you still have your hardon, Mr. Greene," Amelia teased. "Would you like for me to do something about that for you?"

Amelia picked up a cloth tape measure from her desk and walked over to John with it and with the clipboard. She dropped to her knees in front of him, set the clipboard and tape measure down and reached up toward his crotch.

What the fuck is happening? John asked himself.

Amelia's slender fingers found John's zipper and slid it down. Then she reached in and pulled out his cock.

"I will need to measure your dick before I let you fuck any of my girls, Mr. Greene," she told him as she stretched the tape measure alongside his shaft.

"Seven inches," she said. She scribbled something on her clipboard and set it down. "Not gigantic, but well above average."

Amelia took hold of John's penis with both hands.

"I'm very happy with the size of your dick, Mr. Greene. I want you to be big enough to scare the girls somewhat, as overcoming fear will be part of their therapy. But I don't want you to be so large that you actually hurt them."

She began to stroke his shaft up and down.

"And I want a man that can fill me up as well."

John groaned as Amelia worked his dick and licked her lips.

"Of course, a measurement is simply a number. What really matters is the way you feel inside..." She leaned in toward his cock. "Inside me."

Amelia opened her mouth and licked John from the base of his shaft up to the tip of his head. She tasted the drop of precum that was oozing out of his slit.

"Mmmm, I think you're a bit excited," she said. "Do you want me to suck your cock, Mr. Greene?" she asked, looking up at him from between his legs.

"Yes," John replied breathlessly.

"And are you interested in the job I'm offering?" she asked. She swirled her tongue around the head of his dick as she waited for his reply.

"Ohhhhh," John groaned. "Yes."

"Then I'd say it's time for the last part of your interview. The part where I fuck you."

With that, Amelia took John into her mouth. The warm wet sensation filled him with pleasure. Her tongue massaged the underside of his shaft as she bobbed up and down on him, sucking at his member.

"Oh god, Amelia," he moaned.

She let his dick slide out of her mouth and began to pump him with her hand. She smiled up at him.

"I think my girls are going to be very pleased with your cock," she told him. "I know I am."

Amelia bit her lip as she gazed at the penis in her hand. She licked her palm and rubbed it around his head as she continued to pump with the other hand.

"Oooohhhhhh," John cried at the sensation.

Amelia stood up and lifted the front edge of her skirt.

"Pull my panties down," she ordered.

John reach up under her hem and found her waistband. He dragged it down over her hips and past her thighs until past her knees where her panties fell of their own accord to rest on top of her black patent leather pumps.

John gazed longingly at Amelia's hairless cunt. As she pushed her fingers down between her labia, John caught a whiff of her heady aroma.

Amelia sank back into the chair behind her. She slipped her panties down off her shoes and beckoned John over with a crooked finger.

"I want to know that you can pleasure my girls with your tongue. Show me what you are capable of."

John got down on his knees and crawled over to Amelia, his rigid dick swinging back and forth as he did so. He crawled right up between Amelia's thighs and slowly licked the inside of one leg from her knee up to the point where he could feel the heat of her pussy on his face. Then he switched to the other leg and licked the same trail.

When his face was right next to her warm, bare pussy, Amelia grabbed his head and thrust her cunt up to his mouth. He felt her wet lips on his own and kissed her vulva as passionately as he would have kissed her mouth.

"Oh, that feels so good," she encouraged him.

John slipped his tongue between her folds and found her opening. Making his tongue rigid, he pushed it into her until his nose was buried in the hood of her clit. Amelia groaned.

John started lapping hungrily at Amelia's pussy, licking up through her folds, savoring her sweet and tangy juices.

Amelia grabbed John's head and shoved him down as her hips rose off the chair, pushing her cunt against his mouth. She was squirming as he drove her wild, his broad, soft tongue darting up and down over her clit.

"Ooohhhhh, John," she cried. "I'm cumming."

John tasted the flood of juices pouring out her opening. He slurped her cum, drinking her desperately.

Amelia buckled under his mouth, thrusting wildly against his face as her fingers curled in his hair.

"Ohhhhh, fuuuck, John. Yeeessss," she moaned.

John kept his mouth on her twat until her thrashing settled. She looked down to see him gazing up at her from between her thighs.

"Fuck me, John," she growled at him.

John stood before Amelia, and she grabbed his cock and pulled it toward her entrance. He felt her warm, wet folds embrace him as he entered her. Amelia looked up at him as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her.

"Let me be very clear, Mr. Greene," she told him. "I want you to fuck the living shit out of me right now, and I want you to cum in my pussy."

"Uh," John grunted. "Are you sure?"

"I have reviewed your medical history, and can show you mine if you like. But when you fuck me, and when you fuck my girls, there will be no condoms. I want to feel every ridge and vein of your cock And I want to feel your cum spurting into me. I want the same for my girls as well."

Amelia tightened the pull of her legs wrapped around his ass and held his gaze as she ground her clit against his pubic bone.

"Shall I get my medical records for you, or would you like to go ahead and fuck me now until you cum?"

In response, John pulled back a bit and pushed into her.

"Very nice, John."

She relaxed the grip with her legs and held her thighs spread wide with her hands. John looked down at her hairless twat and licked his lips as he watched his dick move in and out of her. She coated him with her creamy grool and groaned pleasantly as he rocked in and out.

"I keep it waxed," she explained, noting his fascination with her bald cunt. "I won't be engaging in incestuous play with you the way Sharon did, calling you 'Daddy' and such. But I thought you might like a bare pussy to fuck for our first time. Just like a little girl, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes," John groaned.

Amelia unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it open. Then she unfastened her bra clasp in the front, freeing her ample breasts. She began to massage her tits, bending her neck down to lick her own nipples.

"Ohhhh, you feel so good inside me, John," she moaned.

John quickened his pace, drinking in the sight of her. She grunted and gasped as he drove into her. Amelia watched his eyes as they roamed over her. She loved how hungry he was for her body. She had been savoring the looks he gave her ever since he walked in. Truth be told, she loved the way he looked too. She reached around him to grab his cheeks, enjoying the way his suit pants molded to the shape of his ass.

John's eyes met hers. She raised up, wrapping her legs around him again and reaching up to his neck to pull his face down to hers. His mouth was so close, panting. The were nose-to-nose, inhaling each other's hot breath. John couldn't stand it anymore, he kissed her. She kissed him back. Their mouths were all over each other as John continued to drive his cock into her.

Amelia broke their kiss and threw her head back, panting hard.

"Oh, John," she moaned. "You feel amazing. You're making my little pussy so wet. Can you feel it, John? Can you feel what you're doing to me?"

He could. She was hot and slick. It drove him crazy.

"Yes," he growled, and he fucked her hard.

"Oh god, John," Amelia cried "Yes. Yes! Harder."

John obliged, hammering into her.

"Oh, fuck me, John, I'm cumming. I'm cumming all over your beautiful cock."

John was close himself. Her orgasm was driving him wild. She grunted and gasped as she rode out the pleasure.

"Uhhnh," John stammered.

"Fuck me, John. Cum in me. Cum with me. I want to feel your cum, John!" Amelia cried out.

"Ohhhhhhh, mmmph. Yes. Yes. Yes!" John groaned, "Uuhhnnnhhhhhhhhhh," as he unloaded inside of her.

Amelia's mouth was on his again. She was quivering, flailing. Her pussy was on fire as he surged within her.

"Ohhhhhh, Joohhhhhhnnnnn, yeeeesssss," she moaned and threw her head back.

John thrust into her hard a few more times and then buried himself to the hilt in her. He held her gaze as they both felt his penis spasm, spraying her insides with his cum. They stayed like that for some moments, just panting and gazing into each other's lusty eyes.

Eventually John pulled out of her. Amelia pulled herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"That," she groaned into his mouth, "was amazing, Darling."

John stumbled back and slumped down into the loveseat. Amelia walked over to him and took his deflating cock in her hand and then bent over and sucked him clean. She groaned as she tasted the last few squirts of his cum, and then she sucked him dry.

She stood up, looking him in the eye, licking her lips and sucking the cum from her fingers where she had grabbed his manhood.

"You're delicious," she told him.

Amelia sat down next to John on the loveseat.

"Well, you certainly passed the interview, Mr. Greene," she said leaning her head over onto his shoulder.

They panted together a moment. John placed an arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him, and he leaned in and kissed her. He held her cheek, rubbing his thumb along the line of her jaw. She was warm, and her mouth was wet and tasted of his cum.

"I want you, John," she said. "I need you. My girls need you."

"How would this even work?" he asked.

"You would live here, at the Dollhouse with me. We would be parents, of a sort, to these girls. They already call me Mommy. I would love for them to think of you as a Daddy. Imagine that, John. Your big, hard cock driving into a little girl's pussy as she calls you Daddy."

John gulped, and his limp dick, laying against his pants stirred.

Amelia sat up and climbed into his lap, facing him, her thighs straddling his hips.

"You possess all the qualities I'm looking for in this position: a cock, a good heart, and experience with sexually traumatized girls."

"That's just it," John began. "Everything I've ever known is screaming out at me right now, telling me this is wrong. How can it be right, Amelia? How can this possibly help these girls?"

"You know what Stockholm Syndrome is," she said.

"Of course," John replied. "When a captive develops empathy for the captor."

"And you've heard of Lima Syndrome as well?" she asked.

"It's kind of the opposite, right?" John replied. "When the captor develops an empathetic attachment for the captive,"

"Precisely," she said. "What if one could leverage those two psychological phenomena, harness the power of our brain chemistry in these types of situations, and use that to create something new, something positive."

"But Stockholm Syndrome occurs when the captor abuses the victims, mercilessly. It's a kind of brainwashing," John protested. "You fuck with someone's mind by harassing them and then showing the tiniest bit of kindness."

"You take me too literally, John," Amelia said, playing with his tie. "Look deeper. Why does Stockholm Syndrome occur at all? Why does the human brain take such a monumental leap and develop attachment under those circumstances? Because in our history we had to."

John looked puzzled.

Amelia picked up his limp cock in her hand.

"Say you're a viking, John. You have pillaged the countryside and ransacked my village. You find me trembling on the floor of my hut, quivering. You pick me up and throw me on the bed, face down. You push my skirt up over my ass and spread my legs apart."

John's dick stirred in her hand, and Amelia began to gently squeeze him and stroke him.

"I fight. I struggle. You slap my face, hard and turn me back over. You grab me by the hair and shove my face down into the bed."

John's breath became ragged as Amelia quietly, calmly laid the scene out. His penis throbbed in her hand.

"You put your big, viking cock against my tender, little opening, and you shove yourself into me, fucking me, over and over and over."

He swelled to his full, breathing so heavily, and Amelia stroked him.

"You cum in me, shooting your foreign seed into my fertile womb. And then you throw me over you shoulder and carry me back to your ship. I lay in the hold, crying to myself, day and night, as you sail me back to your homeland. Occasionally, you get lusty, and you cum for me, raping me over a barrel. My only human contact is your hard dick inside my raped cunt."

"Ohhhhhh," John whimpered.

"When we get back to your country, you force me into service, taking care of your home. I raise the baby you put in my belly. You replace it with another. My life is one of service to my viking husband, my rapist husband, his housewoman, his whore."

Amelia slid down off of John's lap and took his penis into her mouth. She bobbed on him, enjoying the fullness of his cock, his veins sliding under her lips and against her tongue. She pulled off of him and continued to stroke him with her hand.

"Now do you see, John?" she asked. "Now do you understand why we humans can learn to love our captors? Because in our history we had to. We had to adapt or die. But what if...?"

She took him into her mouth again, bobbing up and down.

"What if we could use this for something good?"

"Uhnh?" John grunted.

"These girls have been hurt. They have been abused. They have been raped. Now they are in our hands, in our protection. We are still their captors, but we can turn the tables. The bad cop is gone, only the good cop remains. Their neurochemistry has already been turned on. We just have to nurture that. And we will do it with love."

"Love?" John gasped as Amelia went back down on his cock.

She slurped as she pulled off his dick again.

"Yes, love, John."

She climbed back up into his lap and kissed him.

"I love my girls. I don't just mean that as a euphemism for fucking them. I mean I actually love them, care about them. They feel it. And they return it. We are a family. I'm their Mommy, and they are my little girls."

Amelia kissed John again and held his cock between their bodies.

"Please, John," she pleaded. "I want you to be their Daddy. I want you to love my girls and make love to them. I want you to show them the beauty and wonder of sex. They need you, John. They need you to redeem their hearts and their lives and their pussies."

Amelia held John's gaze with her eyes, as she held his cock with her hand.

"Yes," he replied, hoarsely. He cleared his throat and said again, "yes."

Amelia smiled. She kissed him and said, "Oh, that makes me so very happy, John."

She climbed off his lap and walked over to her desk, clearing her own throat.

"Of course, there is a bit of paperwork we must complete," she said, picking up a clipboard and pen.

"While what we do is completely legal under the law, there are stipulations. Not just anyone is allowed to fuck little girls, of course. I am their legal guardian and their primary therapist. This contract, once you enter into it, will allow you the privilege of using these unconventional methods of sexual therapy."

Amelia sat back down next to John on the loveseat and handed him the contract. He looked through it, still breathing heavily as his penis deflated, bouncing lower with each heartbeat.

"The major stipulations are that you must live here. As the Daddy, you will share a bed with me. We will build the semblance of a nuclear family for the girls' sake. Also, you must not engage in sexual acts with anyone outside of this house. To do so would break your contract... which in turn would break our hearts. The only pussy you may fuck outside of my own and our little girls will be the senator's. She is our... benefactor. The one who wrote the law that makes this place possible. And I will do whatever it takes to keep her happy."

John looked at Amelia. "Whatever...?"

"Well, within reason, of course," Amelia replied. "She is not allowed to fuck the girls. We are lovers, but I know that she likes you. When she stops by, I'm sure that she will want to... enjoy your talents."

She looked at John, searching his eyes.

"You don't have a problem with these stipulations do you?" she asked.

John shook his head and then signed the document. As soon as he set the pen down, her hands were on his cheeks, and her lips were on his. She slid her tongue into his mouth.

"Oh, we're going to have so much fun, John," she said, holding his face and looking him in the eye.

John smiled and returned her kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and laid her back on the loveseat, pawing at her still-exposed breast.

When he broke the kiss, Amelia pushed against him.

"Before you get too carried away, love," she said, "I have a surprise for you."

He leaned back.

"I have scheduled your first appointment already, and I told her to be expecting a session with you."

John sat up.

"Oh," he said and tried to tuck his cock back into his pants. "Wow, I didn't expect... not so soon."

"I hope you're not mad," Amelia said, standing and re-fastening her bra.

"No, I'm... that's great. Of course I would love to get started," he stammered.

Amelia buttoned her shirt back and picked up her panties from the floor and slid them on. Then she straightened her skirt and sat back down next to John on the loveseat. She reached over and smoothed his shirt and tie. When she looked back up at his face, she seemed happy, at peace. John felt his heart leap.

"I know you've been through a lot," Amelia began. "That your divorce has been hard on you. I hope you understand my prying, why I had to dig into your personal affairs. I needed to know exactly what kind of man you are."

John nodded.

"And I want to... well, to offer you a welcome, of sorts."

"Believe me," John began, "I feel very welcome."

"Oh, pshaw, John. That sex, that was your interview. If you had been a lousy fuck, I would have thanked you for your time and sent you on your way. But this..." she bit her lip "...this is something special. And not just for you."

Amelia picked up the manila folder that had slid to the floor earlier. She opened it up to the picture of the abused little eleven-year-old girl, Madison. She flipped a few pages and showed him another picture The girl was smiling. Her face was clean, her cheeks were rosy, her hair was pulled back in a braid, there was a twinkle in her eye.

"Madison has made such amazing progress in her therapy, and..." Amelia looked up at John. "...and I want to reward her. With you."

John's eyes grew big.

"I believe she's ready to have sex, real sex, with a man, and I'm hoping that you will give that to her today, John."

John took a deep breath.

"Wow."

"I know it's a lot, especially after just making this decision, but..." Amelia's fingers brushed over the picture of the little girl. "...she makes me so happy. I love her so much, and I believe you will love her too. She needs a Daddy, John. Will you be her Daddy?"

John put his hand on Amelia's. They looked into each other's eyes. He couldn't believe the feelings coursing through his heart right now. I just fucked this beautiful woman, and now she wants me to fuck this adorable little girl.

"Yes."