Chrissy's Chronicles Book 1 by 7.92x57
(Mg, fg, Mfg, inc, voy, rom, slow)

Available at http://www.asstr.org/~792x57/

FIRST things first I guess.  This is an erotic story written for the enjoyment of consenting adults.  If you are not consenting don't read it (now that made a lot of sense).   If you are not an adult don't read it.  This story contains pedophilia and incest.  If this offends you or violates your personal moral code DON'T READ IT.

SECOND:  While I have the soapbox I want to say something about the nature of fantasy.  That is what this story is FANTASY.  I do not condone or agree with the activities portrayed in this story. Anyone in real life who harms a child deserves to be castrated then shot.  That said, what is harm?  Is a consenting, loving, sexual relationship between a child and an adult harmful?  If done with care it is not physically harmful but there are other kinds of harm.  Is it emotionally harmful?  Perhaps, perhaps not, in actuality it probably varies case by case.  Children don't have labels, there is no tag that says 'I can handle sex'.  So for that reason alone caring adults should not consider a sexual relationship with a child (uncaring adults are going to do as they damn well please).

THIRD:  Now I wish to speak on incest.  I have no problem on a moral level with incest.  I even consider the idea erotic (go figure) on an abstract level.  I only have problems with incest is when it involves an adult and a child.  The adult whether he/she be a parent or uncle/aunt or whatever is in a position of authority over the child.  That brings in the possibility of coercion.  Even if this is not intended there will be an element of it there just because of the authority position.  Most children want to please their parents.  A child that is subject to sexual advances by a parent may acquiesce even if this is not something they wish to do.  I would have the same problem if the adult were a teacher or a principle.  Other than that I have no problems with incest.  If a brother and sister want to play around under the sheets, as long as certain precautions are taken, more power to them.

LAST:  I want to speak on the nature of eroticism.  This is in two parts, the first ties in with the nature of fantasy above.  I find many things erotic in literature, these include, pedophilia, incest, bestiality, torture, rape, water sports etc...  Very few of these things would I find erotic if I was a participant.  Let me state that again, not only would I not do them (for moral reasons) but the thought of actually doing them turns me off like a light.  Curious, I enjoy reading about them but the thought of doing them is repellant.
Now for the second part, I have for many years read erotic stories, starting with filched copies of Penthouse Letters as a teenager then downloading them from BBS's and finally the internet.  I have found many, many erotic stories that I have enjoyed immensely.  I have also found a great deal of duds.  To be erotic a story needs several things.  It has to be believable both in the setting and the actions/reactions of the participants.  A story where a child walks into a pool hall, raises her dress and takes on everybody in the place would not be erotic for me no matter how hot the sex, because I would not believe it.  A story has to be descriptive.  Adjectives and adverbs are important.  Don't tell me that Jane dropped to her knees and fucked the dog.  Tell me what she feels, what she says, how she moves.  Don't tell me a child is cute.  Describe her, what is her skin tone,  what color are her eyes, her hair?  How soft is her skin?  What is she thinking?


	God I felt like shit.  Sitting here in a police station waiting for my own daughter to be brought to me.  They'd given me a few minutes alone with her before she'd gone before the judge (that was done via video hookup).  I'd gone into the cramped, smelly little conference room in a towering rage.  How dare she embarrass me by vandalizing cars!  Her and that group of trailer trash hellions she hung around with.  I'd taught her better than that.
	I'd just fired my opening salvo when she'd lifted her dainty little chin and met my gaze.  The look of pure anguish in those pure blue eyes had frozen my heart and thankfully my mouth.
	"It's all about you daddy.  It's always about you.  Your conferences, your meetings, your dinner dates."  Her voice was clear and low, she wasn't hysterical or quavering.  It was the voice of sad resignation and it broke my heart.
	"And now it's still about you.  I've embarrassed you, you say.  I've hurt you."  She blinked those big blue eyes and a tear slid down one ivory cheek.  "When it does it get to be about me?"
	On the defensive I flustered, "Now baby you know I'm interested in you.  In your future."
	"You check my homework, generally after I'm asleep."
	"Homework is important.  An education is important.  As for my hours baby that's part of my career, my path, OUR path to success."
	She dropped her head.  "I don't feel too successful daddy."  She raised her head and again met my gaze.  "Do you remember my school play?"
	Startled by the change in topic, at least I thought it was a change in topic, I stammered, "Yes honey of course.  You played a dancer....uhh....I think."
	"I played a waitress, the play was 'That Night at the Truck Stop.'  I practiced for weeks and weeks.  I wanted so badly for you to be proud of me.  To see me at my best.  But you didn't show up.  I kept staring into the audience as I recited my lines but you weren't there."
	"Baby I had an emergency call.  I'm a lawyer.  These things happen."
	"And my soccer championship.  I practiced so hard, I drove my teammates to practice hard because I wanted my daddy to see us win the cup."  She dropped her head back down.  Her long blond tresses curtaining her face.  "But you didn't show up."
	I started to speak but she went on, her words like a hammer driving spikes into my soul.  
	"My piano recital, remember that.  I spent hours and hours at the keyboard.  I practiced till my fingers ached night after night because I wanted my daddy to see me in my sequined gown setting upright at that beautiful piano making lovely music."  She looked up and her face, till now calm, crumpled.  "But you didn't show up!"
	"All these things I did for you daddy.  I wanted you to be proud of me.  To hug me, to tell me how great I was."  She sobbed, "But you never noticed daddy."
	"I noticed baby-"
	She went on steamrollering me, her tears now flowed like a river.  "Well daddy, I finally got you to notice me."  She held up her thin shackled wrists.  "And this time you showed up."
	I started out of my reverie as footsteps approached.  A heavyset policewoman approached with my daughter in tow.  At all of 4'7" Chrissy looked lost in the Day-Glo orange issue jumpsuit.
	"Mr. Powell?"
	I stood.  "That's right."
	She consulted a clipboard.  "Judge Redding has agreed to your request to release your daughter to your custody.  If she stays out of trouble for one year and pays full reimbursement for all damages her record will be wiped.  Sign here."
	I took the clipboard and scrawled my mark.  Doctors and lawyers have one thing in common other than malpractice cases.  We both sign so many papers that the signature quickly degenerates into an illegible flourish.
	The policewoman removed the shackles and leg irons from my daughter, ridiculous precautions for a 9 year old girl but rules were rules.  The three of us made our way to the property room.  The clerk there took the chit the policewoman gave him and passed over a stapled paper bag in return.  
	I waited outside the restroom while Chrissy changed.  She finally poked her head around the door sheepish and fearful.  Why became apparent when the rest of her followed a moment later.  My blond angel wore a cropped white top that left her tanned midriff bare.  The black micro-mini skirt she wore with it came only a few spare inches above her crotch and left a lot of thin shapely leg exposed.  I'd seen kinder-slut clothes like that on mall rats and always tisked to myself with the other shoppers, 'their parents let them out like that.  The family must not be much.'
	I started to explode, 'You were wearing that!', but contained myself at the last second.  When Chrissy finally met my eye I simply smiled and took her hand.  "Let's go get something to eat baby."
	As she skipped across the street toward the car those muscular legs flashed under the streetlights and her dancing skirt shot tantalizing glimpses of her panties.  When my cock started to respond I shamed it down.  I had to get my ashes hauled.  When I started perving on my daughter it had been too long!
	There was a Denny's just down the road.  We commandeered a booth in the back and ordered.  Once the food was gone we talked.  Probably the first real talk we'd had in years.  There was crying on both sides of the table.  The waitress kept our glasses full and never said a word about us tying up a booth.  When we left it was after midnight.  I left a fifty dollar tip.
	The next day was a Saturday.  Generally I went in to the office even on Saturdays.  Today I called in.  When Chrissy came bouncing down the stairs in her nighty she seemed surprised to see me sitting at the table.
	I cooked us both a big breakfast, I'm a good cook, then asked Chrissy what SHE wanted to do today.  We ended up doing a movie, a mushy thing that didn't interest me but Chrissy loved.  She spent most of it hanging on my arm, her silky hair brushed my cheek.  She smelled of strawberry shampoo and lilac soap.  Her giggles were like bells ringing in my heart.
	After the movie we did the park.  The local one had a small petting zoo.  We petted and fed then went wondering down the maze of nature trails.  Finally we bought sandwiches and sodas from a vendor cart and settled on a secluded bench to eat.
	"I've been thinking baby.  You know school will be out in a couple of weeks.  How about we take a vacation, a nice long one, just the two of us."
	Chrissy exploded in glee.  She threw her arms around me.  "Do you mean it daddy, really, really?"
	"Really, really baby."  Her happiness was so contagious that not even the wet feeling of soda running down my back bothered me much.
	That night I tucked her in then got on the internet.  I plumbed a couple of the travel agency sites before finding a link to 'Between the States Outfitters'.  I clicked on it and browsed around.  The establishment rented houseboats on the Cumberland river.  They were located on the Kentucky/Tennessee border.  Another click brought up a map.  There were hundreds of miles of river and countless lakes that you could explore.  I made my decision then and there.  I clicked on 'reserve' and entered my credit card information.  Three weeks rental on an 'Adventurer' cost $1785.21.  They even stocked the larder.
	As I expected I had trouble at work.  The Senior partner, old Mr. Combs shook his head.  "Terry I'm sorry but I can't let you go.  You know what the caseload is like."
	'Sure you old goat I know, just enough that you can take off pheasant hunting or fly fishing a dozen times a year.'  Aloud I said, "Mr. Combs I have the vacation time coming and I need some time with my daughter.  I haven't taken off in two years."
	"Hmmmm..your daughter, heard about that.  Ought to use the strap on that little monster, or send her off.  A little reform school will do wonders.  As for vacation, I know its been a while.  See me again in a couple of months, maybe I can let you have a week or so then."
As the old man swiveled his chair to present its supple leather back to me, his way of ending a conversation with finality, I imagined the look on Chrissy's pretty face when I told her that her father had failed her again.
	"Mr. Combs I am not asking to be given time off.  I'm telling you that I'm taking it."
	The chair stopped in mid swivel then slowly reversed.  The old man peered at me over his wire rimmed glasses, every inch the image of the grizzled courtroom lawyer.  "How was that?"
	"I have two months of vacation coming.  Written firm policy says I must give two weeks notice and clear my docket prior to taking any of it.  I'm giving you 17 days notice that I plan to take one month.  As for my docket, Wills and Clevy have already agreed to split my cases."
	The old man stared for a moment.  "Hmmm, that how it is.  You know Terry I was thinking you had the stuff to be a junior partner.  Now I just don't know.  It takes commitment you know.  I guess you just don't have the stuff."
	I gritted my teeth and smiled.  He held that promise over everyone's head to keep their nose to the grinding stone.  Two of the old man's grandsons were partners.  Neither had been with the firm as long as me.  "I guess not.  Actually I've been thinking of opening my own office anyway.  You know a lot of the corporate people ask for me by name."  I smiled at his sour look.  Put that in your pipe and smoke it you old fart.
	The days flew by.  I had to put in some long hours to bring my two co-workers up to speed on my caseload.  Barry Wills was your average lawyer, stolid but not brilliant.  Nancy Clevy was another breed on animal altogether.  Hired as the token black woman to show how progressive the firm was she'd proved to be a professional dynamo and in my opinion the best lawyer in the firm, including me.
	Finally the glorious day arrived.  Giggling like siblings rather than father and daughter, Chrissy and I shoved the Blazer till not another bag would fit then hopped aboard.  We sang '100 bottles of beer on the wall' as the city vanished behind us.
	Later, as day bled to night I felt Chrissy's warmth as she slept with her head on my shoulder.  The soft 'whuffs' of her breath smelled faintly of mint.  As I drove I remembered her mother.  Diane had been a wonderful woman, dynamic, sexy and gloriously alive.  Our sex life had been energetic and delightfully kinky.  In particular she had loved flashing my glimpses of her lovely charms in the most unusual and public of places.  Dozens of times I'd been given ass, tit and cunt shots as we sat at dinner in some ritzy restaurant or enjoyed the theatre.  I'd blush as my conservative lawyer values were offended then take her home and fuck her till the small hours.  
	That sainted partnership had come to an end when Chrissy was three.  A crossing gate had failed and a barreling freight had smacked my wife's beloved Bug Eyed Sprite like a sledge hammer would a cockroach.  They'd had to cut her remains from the mangled sports car in pieces.  The service had been closed casket.
	I received a generous settlement.  Probably more than generous once the railroad found out I was a lawyer.  I'd invested it wisely but it couldn't replace my beloved Diane.  I realized now that I'd compensated by throwing myself into my career.  Six day weeks and sixteen hour days had been my norm.  In the process I'd badly neglected the wonderful daughter my and Diane's love had created.  God I was an idiot.
	We stopped for the night at a Best Western.  I registered then drove to the room.  Gently I picked my sleeping angel up and carried her inside.  She slept on as I removed her shoes and socks.  I unsnapped her shorts and eased them off her round little butt.  As I did her little panties came into view.  They'd ridden up during the day till they were stretched tight over her bald little mound.  Her slit was plainly visible.  Fuck, my cock stirred again as I stared.
	Chrissy moved, drawing my gaze to her face.  Her eyes were open and she was looking at me with a tired smile on her face.  Shit, had she caught me staring at her cunt?
	"Hi daddy."
	"Hi baby, sorry to wake you I was just putting you to bed."
	"'Sallright, gotta potty anyway."
	She stood and finished shucking her shorts then headed for the bathroom.  Her panties had pulled up in the rear as well exposing the lower halves of her little white cheeks.  I ordered my cock down and began getting ready for bed myself.  No doubt about it, I had to get laid!
	We reached the outfitters shortly after noon the next day.  It was a sprawling place set in a small valley.  A campground was off to the left, trailers, tents and motor homes peaked through a thick covering of pine, oak and walnut.  The air smelled of wood smoke, charcoal lighter fluid and the ozone tang of water.
	I parked in the area marked 'Long Term Rental Parking' and we got out.  I locked the Blazer then arm in arm we strolled to the rental office.
	The two-story building was actually built on the dock.  I had assumed this was on fixed pylons but it turned out that the entire arrangement was afloat.  The individual sections were connected by lengths of short chain with hinged boards over the joints.  The moved up and down in relation to each other on the wakes of passing powerboats.  The movement was accompanied by the groan of timbers as wood rubbed on wood or on the old tired used as fenders.  Chrissy thought it was very neat.  From somewhere in my past the tow headed boy I had once been peaked out.  It was kinda neat.
	A heavyset man with a straw hat and a polo shirt that said 'Buddy' shuffled file cards till he came up with what he was looking for.  "Terry Powell, three week prepaid on an Adventurer?"
	"That's right."
	He frowned and dug into another pile of cards.  "Hmm..  Well Mr. Powell we've had a little mix up.  Thing is I don't have any Adventurers left.  One of my dim witted boys let the last one three days ago even though it was clearly marked 'reserved'.
	Beside me Chrissy's face crumpled.  I looked pretty shocked myself.
	Buddy threw up a pudgy hand to forestall my protest and went on.  "I do have boats.  Now what I can do is let you have a 'Honeymooner' for the same price.  I'll even throw in a Jacuzzi.  That's normally $100 a week extra."
	"What's the difference in the Adventurer and the Honeymooner?"
	"Well the Honeymooner's actually a bigger boat.  She's 28 feet rather than 24.  A couple more luxury features as well.  Costs more to rent too."  He glanced down at Chrissy then back at me.  "Thing is its only got one queen sized bed compared to the Adventurer's six bunks.  If its just you and your daughter that shouldn't be that much of a hardship."
	Share a bed with Chrissy.  I thought of my previous episodes of arousal around her and opened my mouth to say no.  Chrissy interceded however.
	She bounced up and down at my side, "Say yes daddy, say yes, say yes!"
	I looked down and she beamed up at me.  Her eyes were blue lakes in that lovely blond framed face.
	I turned back to Buddy, "Fine we'll take it."
	We pulled the Blazer around to the dock while a youth of about sixteen brought the boat around.  We then started transferring gear while two other boys brought a pontoon boat alongside.  The promised Jacuzzi sat on the pontoons deck.  The railings on both boats were taken down then the three boys muscled the spa onto the houseboats small back porch and bolted it to the pre-installed mounting points.
	Once the last bag had been stowed I re-parked the Blazer then Chrissy and I oohed and ahhed our way through a fifteen minute lecture on the features and running of our boat.  We were handed pamphlets including one from the Coast Guard entitled 'Rules of the Road'.  That done the youths waved farewell and we were on our own.
	I spent a few minutes familiarizing myself with the controls then started the engine.  I had Chrissy release the stern line then cranked the wheel hard left and put the engine in reverse.  The stern swung out into the sluggish current.  My call to slip the bow was answered by an excited 'Aye aye Captain.'  I let her go back till we were a good twenty yards off shore then put the engine in forward and turned her downstream.  We were underway.  Our adventure had begun.
	There was a chart laminated to the paneling alongside the helm.  I'd already decided to head south into Tennessee but consulted it again anyway.  As we chugged along Chrissy was a youthful dynamo, bouncing the boat like a hurricane on two legs.  In the first hour she'd opened every cupboard, dug into every locker and crawled through every closet.  With each new discovery she'd come charging into the lounge and report her findings to me.  
	I decided to stop before dark and eased the houseboat up to the right bank.  It was heavily wooded with a narrow hard packed clay beach.  Ten feet in a rusty fence was decorated by 'No Trespassing' signs.
	I nosed up till I felt the bow just touch then backed off a few feet.  Chrissy dropped the anchor and I let the boat drift another ten feet down river before calling for her to lock the winch.  Gently our rented steed halted then swung on her rope till the stern was down river.
	The boat had both a full kitchen and a little barbecue grill that could be erected on the aft porch.  We had a wonderful little beach however and there was plenty of driftwood so we decided to build a fire ashore.  Chrissy made the five foot leap to solid ground without a problem.  I, less limber, ended up in water to my knees, much to the delight of my darling daughter.
	We built a roaring bonfire then cooked steaks and potatoes over the coals.  We then sat and talked for an hour or so.  
	Chrissy showered first.  Taking so long at it that she drained the boat's teakettle sized hot water heater.  She giggled all the way through my shower as I oohed and ahhed at the cold water.  When I emerged in my boxers I found her dressed in one of my old t-shirts.  She was already in bed.  I climbed in beside her and then leaned over and turned out the light.  I'd just pulled the sheets up when she wiggled over to my side of the bed and pressed her supple little body next to mine.  Her damp head came to rest on my chest.  Her bare thigh burned where it touched my leg.  She gave a gentle sigh and drifted quickly to sleep.  I lay for a long time fighting down my traitor cock and listening to the muted hum of the generator.
	I got us underway the next morning while Chrissy cooked breakfast.  I'd decided to use the auxiliary helm located atop the cabin and was enjoying the early morning air and feeling quite the yachtsman when Chrissy climbed the narrow circular stair from the lounge.  She stepped up beside me and set a plate on the console.  The smell of bacon and eggs was mouth watering.  I turned to thank her and stopped in shock.  Chrissy had changed into her bathing suit.  A conservative one piece that I'd bought her the previous year.  She'd grown in that year however and the suit was no longer quite so conservative.  She still had nothing on top but the crotch of the suit was pulled up tight between her legs.  The outline of her pre-teen mound was plainly visible.
	Chrissy saw the look on my face and smiled.  She did a quick pirouette, the suit was now high on her thighs and half of her round little cheeks were exposed.  The demarcation between her tanned legs and the milky white of her buttocks was clear, and damned stimulating.
	She faced me again, the smile still on her face.  "You like?"
	I wiped the shocked look off of my face.  "Baby I think we need to buy you a new bathing suit.  That one is not supposed to show so much."
	She twirled a length of her blond hair, idly brushing it across her full lips as she swayed back and forth.  "I bet the boys will like it," she giggled before leaning in to give me a peck on the cheek.  "But I'll take a new one anyway."  She danced back toward the ladder to retrieve her own breakfast.  My eyes followed that round little backside every step.  When she had vanished below I pulled my eyes back to the front and adjusted my cock.  Boys hell, dirty old men would fucking love it.
My continued pangs of lust for my own daughter put me in an ugly mood and I grunted and grumped my way through Chrissy's animated breakfast conversation.  Afterwards she decided to lay out and get some sun.  Thankfully the sundeck was behind me.
	At noon we were approaching a little fish camp called 'Mud Pike Fishin' Hole'.  The signs we'd been passing for the last ten miles claimed, 'Best Catfish in the South' and 'Good Eats.'  After a discussion we decided to test the claims and I crossed the river and snuggled alongside one of the docks.  The boat had a marine band radio but in a curious case of stage fright I hadn't yet tried to use it.  I was afraid I'd sound like a redneck out of a bad 70's trucker movie.  Instead I just gave several long blasts on the horn.  A girl in her late teens came out and directed us down a few slips before taking the lines Chrissy heaved her.  
	The girl's name was Heather.  She had a mouthful of shiny braces and a set of perky little titties that must have been fairly new, at least the way she shoved her chest out to draw attention to them seemed to indicate she hadn't had them long.  She was pretty in a gum chewing, teen heart throb kind of way and the Daisy Duke shorts she wore certainly put all of her assets on display.  Chrissy caught me staring and elbowed me in the ribs.  I'd made her pull a conservative pair of nylon runners shorts over her bathing suit.
	The Mud Pike Fishin' Hole was as good as its word.  We were brought heaping plates of batter fried catfish complete with coleslaw and genuinely good mashed potatoes.  The latter was surprising, most restaurants have mashed potatoes only slightly more palatable than joint compound.  
	Sated, we wondered next door to the well stocked little store.  All of the merchandise was overpriced but that went with the territory.  I picked out two cheap rod and real combos and was sorting through the displayed tackle when Chrissy came up to me.  "How about this one daddy?"
	"This what?," I mumbled as I sorted through various lures.  Fishing was one of my passions as a young man.  I hadn't done near enough of it in recent years.
	"Bathing suit silly.  You said you'd buy me one."
	I looked up to see my daughter holding out a neon pink bit of fluff that had less material in it than a self respecting shirt pocket.  I was surprised that a fishing camp in bible belt Tennessee even had such a thing.  "A little racy isn't it honey?"
	"Dadeeeee, we're on vacation remember.  Besides, it's just my size."  She shot me that dazzling smile.  I held firm as a straw dike.
	"Alright honey we'll get it."
	She jumped up and bussed my cheek before wondering off to do more shopping.  "Thanks daddy."
	Daddy felt guilty.  How much of daddy's agreement was to please his darling daughter and how much was his desire to see that hard little body in that tiny little suit.  Daddy didn't know.
	I ended up buying the rod and reels, a good selection of tackle, an out of state fishing license for myself, a case of beer and of course Chrissy's new bathing suit.  The damage came to over $200.  It would have been worse but Chrissy was young enough not to require a fishing license in Tennessee.  Mine alone was over $100.
	It was mid afternoon before we pushed off from the dock and headed down river.  Chrissy immediately dove into the cabin.  I guessed what was coming next and willed my cock to remain at ease.  I was right.  In less than five minutes Chrissy emerged onto the sun deck wearing her new suit.  Suit was actually a misnomer, it didn't cover enough to be called a suit.  It was a hybrid mix between a bikini and a one piece.  The two parts were connected but only by a complex arrangement of geometrically arranged spaghetti straps.  The bottom was not a thong, but it didn't miss that classification by much.  As she twirled before me three-fourths of that round little derriere was on prominent display.  A pontoon boat was passing the opposite direction.  A teen boy whistled from the deck.  
	"Very nice baby," I stumbled.  
	Pleased at my compliment and blushing from the whistle Chrissy went to lay out.  I turned back to the river and fought my cock to a more comfortable position.  Fucker wouldn't listen to orders.
	That night I nosed the boat up into a small creek that dwindled away to nothing 100 feet in.  We backed off and dropped the hook where it was still wide enough and cooked hamburgers on the grill.  An even smaller stream entered ours just opposite of the boat.  A little after supper exploration uncovered a shallow limestone pool a dozen feet into the woods.  The water was clear and the bottom was sandy.  It was the perfect swimming hole.  From the amount of faded beer cans littered about it was apparent the locals though so too.
	We rushed back to the boat and changed into swimsuits.  As the sun set we were frolicking and splashing like children.  Horseplay soon led to a wrestling match which shortly led to my hand cupping Chrissy's soft, warm little ass.  With her new suit it wasn't fabric I was palming but the delightful flesh of that delightful bottom.  I released her quickly enough but soon found myself again looking for an opening to caress my darling's pre-teen butt.  A score of times my hairy paw slid across that wet, soft smoothness.  A few times I even managed to brush my fingers between her legs and over her puffy little mound.  When we finally agreed to call it a night I had to sit for some minutes to let my raging cock return to its flaccid state.
	That night when Chrissy nestled up to me I slid my arm beneath her head and allowed my hand to rest on her fabric covered hip.  I massaged gently as she dozed off, the temptation to ease my old T up and get directly to her little panty covered butt was great.  Only the fear that she would wake stopped me.  I drifted off to sleep with images of my face buried between my daughter's soft, shapely thighs dancing in my lecherous head.
	The next day found us headed into more virgin wilderness.  The built up tourist area of the border was behind us as well as most of the boat traffic.  Chrissy was again sunning herself when we came up on another houseboat anchored across the river.  The man at the helm waved as did the mid-thirties woman climbing up the stern boarding ladder.  The latter wasn't wearing a stitch.
	Chrissy giggled behind me after we passed the other boat.  "Daddy that lady was naked!"
	"I know baby.  Some people like to swim in the nude.  It's called skinny dipping."
	"But people can see!"
	"Well baby out here there aren't many people.  It doesn't bother some people to be seen without clothes on as long as only a few people might see them.  Most folks are a little more modest though.  They generally wait till after dark to go skinny dipping."
	The conversation had been entirely innocent on my part.  I didn't even dream of where that inane little explanation would take us.
	We had a lunch of hot dogs and chips as we chugged down the river.  I decided to stop early today and get some fishing in.  We found a sheltered little cove and pulled in.  There was a small stony bank with a gentle slope as well as the inevitable fence and signs.  The folks who owned river front property sure were a friendly lot.  Of course if the average boater had been a little more careful to pick up after themselves it might have helped.  I fished for several hours but caught nothing.  Chrissy tried a few casts then decided this fishing thing was pretty boring.
	There was little firewood so we cooked frozen pizza in the boats oven then built a small fire on the shore and roasted marshmallows.  As the darkness closed in around us the whippoorwills began to sing in the trees.
	I was on my third beer and feeling wonderfully mellow when Chrissy spoke from across the popping coals.  "Daddy it's dark now."
	"Uhuh."
	"I was wondering?"
	"What baby."
	"Could we go skinny dipping?"
	My head jerked up and I stared across the dying blaze.  Chrissy's pretty face was tinted red by the glow.  Her eyes twinkled in the firelight.  Her expression was lost in the gloom.
	"I don't know baby.  I don't think that would be a good idea."
	"Please daddy, I wanna try it at least once."  She turned to sweep an arm across the expanse of the darkened river.  "There's no one around."
	"I'm around baby."
	"Silly, you're my daddy.  You don't count."
	If she'd known my shameful thoughts as of late her opinion on that might have changed.  I should have said no and been firm about it but the beer was having its say and I wavered.  "Are you sure you want to baby.  Some fish might bite you in a sensitive spot."
	"Daddeeeee."
	"Okay baby, if you want, but not for long.  We've got a full day tomorrow."
	"Yippee", Chrissy surged to her feet and grabbed me by the hand.  She pulled so hard that I almost overbalanced and ended up in the fire.  We boarded the boat and moved to the aft porch where the swim ladder was.  Chrissy seemed ready to strip off right there but I halted her.  "We're going to take some precautions baby."  I ducked into the cabin and began rummaging through the lockers.  I found what I was after a short search.  The little blister pack had come with the boat.  It contained four bracelets with 
little chemical lights attached.  'Swim Safe', the package claimed.
	I pulled two of them out and bent the little chemlights to activate them.  They glowed a brilliant yellow/green.  I put one on my wrist and gave the other to Chrissy and made sure she put it on.  I then self consciously began removing my shoes as my daughter peeled off her top and began to wriggle out of her tight cutoffs.  I gave strict orders to my cock not to get hard and it seemed to be listening.  The beer helped in this regard, as did concentrating on my shoes and not my now nearly naked daughter.  
	Chrissy's panties dropped to the deck and with a delighted yell she dove over the side.  I looked up just in time to see just a flash of her pale butt as the cleaved the water cleanly.  I quit dawdling and hurriedly stripped out of my clothing before jumping in myself.  The water was cool and refreshing.  In the darkness it was also pitch black.  The wisdom of the light bracelets was obvious.
	We played and swam for a while without any contact, races and that sort of thing.  Several times Chrissy climbed back aboard and demanded I watch this or that dive.  I did avidly, the moon had risen by now and each time allowed me to view my daughters sleek nudity.  My fucking dick was getting hard.
	Chrissy called for me to do some cannonballs but I begged off.  There was no way I was climbing out of the water in front of my innocent daughter with seven inches of jutting hardon waving in the breeze.
	I was resting alongside the boat with one hand gripping the deck when I realized I could no longer see Chrissy's light.  I peered around idly for a moment then began to get concerned when I still didn't see her.  I began to spin wildly, my eyes sweeping the water.  The image of my darling daughter reaching for me as she sunk into the depths filled my mind.
	I had no more than a quarter of a second notice, just a little swirl in the water, then a hand slapped my ankle.  Lithe as an eel, Chrissy rocketed beneath me and surfaced ten feet beyond.  She shook the water from her blond tresses and grinned impishly.  "You're it daddy."  With that she was off again.
	It was I, the combination of affront at the fright she had given me and fatherly playfulness made me game.  I was after her in a flash.  She surfaced again near shore then turned to look for me.  She let out a shriek when she the disembodied light on my wrist rising from the depths only a few feet away.  She spun away and took a single stroke but it was too late.  I tagged her on the leg then raced past her.  I surfaced a dozen feet beyond her and took a single breath before vanishing again beneath the surface.
	Our tag game lasted about fifteen minutes.  The interval between tag and re-tag came down as we both tired.  I'd tried to limit my touches to Chrissy's extremities but several times my fingers had brushed her soft thighs, her silky belly or her rounded little posterior.  Mine hadn't been the only wondering hands.  Several times a small finger had slid across my hairy balls and once she'd even brushed my cock.  I was sure the contacts had been accidental, fairly sure.
	We were both tired and beginning to shrivel up like prunes.  It was time to call it a night.  Chrissy got out first.  I admired her white butt and muscular legs as she climbed the ladder to the deck.  Instead of going inside like I expected she simply backed against the cabin and stood toweling off.  I waited a minute or so but she made no move to go inside.
	"Chrissy baby, go inside so I can get out of the water."
	"Go ahead daddy, don't mind me."
	Fuck she wanted to play games and I had a hard dick.  "Well turn around then."
"Uh uh, you saw me!"
	Fuck and double fuck.  I knew if I let out one of my bellow class orders that she would scurry inside quickly enough.  It would also harm the budding father/daughter bonding that I'd been working so hard at.  Cursing under my breath I mounted the ladder.  In three strides I stood dripping on the deck.  I reached for the towel Chrissy held out but it wasn't placed in my hand.  My daughter stood frozen, her gaze on my jutting hardon.  I snatched the towel and quickly dried off.  Chrissy came out of her daze as the object of her fascination vanished under terrycloth.  She stood grinning at me till I popped her with the towel and told her to get inside and make some hot chocolate.  She giggled and let out a little 'Aye, aye Captain,' before skipping out of sight.  She dropped her towel just before vanishing through the door.  My last glimpse was the round whiteness of her butt.  	
	 The next morning I let Chrissy have a try at the top helm.  She was delighted and struck a proud pose for any other boats we happened to pass.  Especially if they had young boys on them.  She wore her new bathing suit though to her disgust I'd insisted on a pair of shorts over the bottoms.
	She caught on quickly and within an hour I had enough confidence in her to retrieve my tackle and drop a line over the aft deck.  I had Chrissy slow to trolling speed and began to happily fish, my rod in one hand and a cold beer in the other.
	The movement seemed to be the trick.  I began getting hits right away and within an hour had landed several bass.  I became more selective, tossing out the smaller ones and only keeping the larger ones.  By lunch I had a half dozen of 12" plus dangling from my stringer.
	I took over the helm and nosed us into the bank,  A large willow draped its branches and its shade over the river here.  We eased up underneath and dropped anchor.
	I'd expected Chrissy to be grossed out at the details of cleaning fish.  To my surprise she jumped in like a trooper and was soon filleting and scaling like a pro.  I whipped up a marinade and within minutes the first of the fillets were sizzling on the grill.  Chrissy looked up from where she was cutting the last fillet loose and grinned at me.  She looked so impishly cute with glistening fish scales in her hair that I leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the lips.
	A shocked look crossed her face and my heart fell.  I'd fucked up.  A second later however she darted forward and returned the favor, catching me in a lip lock.  We kissed for a second and then separated, both looking away in embarrassment.  Fuck, why did I have to kiss her on the lips.
	I suggested we get the fish scales off of us before we ate.  Chrissy gleefully agreed and quickly shimmied out of her shorts before diving over the side.  I followed a second after.
	We ate on the top deck, luxuriating in the cool shade of the willow.  The bass was good even with nothing more inspired than pork and beans and canned coleslaw to accompany it.  We ate our fill then took our ease.  
	The food had made us loggy and we rambled on about nothing much while I gathered up the debris.  Chrissy had rolled over onto her stomach seemed on the verge of nodding off.  I was just rising to deposit my burden in the galley when movement ashore caught my eye.  I peered for a moment before my brain and eye got their act together and gave me a clear image.  A bare chested boy of about fourteen was squatting about midway up the steep bank.  He was all but hidden by the dense foliage of the willow.  His ragged cutoff shorts were around his knees.  He was masturbating furiously while staring at my daughter's all but bare little butt.
	I stood frozen in shock for several seconds.  Long enough for Chrissy to notice my silence.  She rolled over and glanced at me then followed my gaze ashore.  A soft 'Oh' escaped her lips as she sighted the boy.
	Realizing he'd been spotted the young teen yanked his pants up and scampered up the slope.  In seconds he had vanished.
	Chrissy remained below while I got the anchor up and got us moving down river again.  When she did come up and join me she had donned a shirt and warm-up pants over her bathing suit.  She blushed when she met my gaze then turned and stared ahead.  Well, well, my liberated little darling wasn't quite as liberated as she had thought.  I steered us into the center of the river and tried not to grin.  We were approaching a bridge, and old two lane thing of gray girders and rust.  A half dozen ragged children sat their bikes and watched as we chugged underneath.  I wondered if one was our voyeur.  Chrissy simply glared at them all to be on the safe side.
	The clouds began to gather in mid-afternoon.  By four lightning was stabbing at the trees on either bank and the wind was kicking up the water in frothy whitecaps.  The boxy houseboat made a fairly decent sail and soon I had my hands full holding course.  It was time to look for refuge.
	We'd passed a small cove twenty minutes back.  I considered briefly then swung the boat around and headed back upriver.  Maybe we would have found as good a spot further on, maybe we wouldn't have.  As soon as we were steady on course I locked the upper controls and went below.  The rain was coming down in sheets by the time we nosed into the little shelter.  Chrissy braved the pounding rain long enough to drop the anchor.  I decided not to trust it and as soon as I had shut down the engine we both went back out and rigged lines to the trees on the bank.  Three lines from three different directions offered peace of mind.  By the time were finished we were both soaked through.    
	I sent Chrissy back to the boat and made one more tour to check the lines.  The wind was now really kicking it.  The trees were swaying and groaning.  I hoped none decided to fall on us during the night.
	I entered the cabin to find my daughters clothes piled in a wet heap on the linoleum floor of the galley.  Her little girl cotton panties were atop the heap  I picked everything up and headed for the bathroom.  I stepped into the lounge and stopped cold.  Chrissy stood in the middle of the room toweling her hair.  She was stark naked.
	I stood in shock for a second then guiltily began to ogle my daughters charms.  Her whole head was encased in the towel she was vigorously scrubbing her head with so I was safe for the moment.  My eyes drifted up those coltish dancer's legs, her sleek thighs, still little girl thin but oh so sexy.  My gaze stopped at her little snow white pussy and went no further.  Damn, it was perfect.  The bald little lips were plump and pronounced with just a hint of a tiny gap between them.  They looked soft and oh so enticing.  Fuck!  I knew where pedophiles came from now.
	Something told me to look up.  When I did I met my daughters curious blue eyes.  Shit, she'd caught me ogling her twat!.  I waited for outrage or recrimination, cringing the more because I knew it was well deserved.  Instead Chrissy just smiled sweetly, turned and headed for the aft cabin.  Her snowy little butt wiggled enticingly as she disappeared down the companionway.
	After a moment I stepped into the head.  I hung Chrissy's things over the cabinet sized shower then shucked my own clothes and added them to the dripping, sodden mass.  I toweled off hurriedly then pulled on my swimming trunks which hung conveniently nearby.
	When I emerged I went to the galley.  I eschewed the beer and went straight for the little mini-bar the boat came equipped with.  Inside were dozens of little airline sized bottles of liquor along with various mixers.  When we returned the bar would be inventoried and I'd pay though the nose for each of those precious little bottles that had been so much as breathed on.  I was on my third straight vodka when Chrissy sashayed into the galley.  She wore one of my old T-shirts.  It came to about mid-thigh on her.  As she began to rummage through the cupboards I tried not to think about the skimpy panties that would be all she was wearing underneath.  I succeeded for the most part.
	We supped on frozen pizza and corn chips.  It was about as appetizing as it sounds but neither of us felt like getting more ambitious.  Afterwards I popped the shrink wrap from one of the boats small library of DVD's and popped it into the player.  We plopped down on the sofa to watch.  It was something sappy and sentimental involving a too-cute girl and a dog.  To make it worse not a single thing exploded, of course Chrissy loved it.
	About 10 minutes into the movie my daughter snuggled up to my side and with a little sigh on contentment rested her head on my shoulder.  Without thinking I put my arm around her and hugged her to me, my hand falling on her upturned hip.  I figured she would be out in another few minutes and I could out a real movie on.
	All thoughts of movies were driven from my brain by the feel of warm, soft flesh beneath my fingers.  Chrissy's impromptu nightgown had ridden up and she was wearing NOTHING beneath it.  Oh shit, my hand was on her warm little ass, my fingers well along the smooth inward curve that led into that delightful cleft between her cheeks.  Fuck, now what?  Yanking my hand away like I'd just touched a live wire didn't seem the correct approach.  Should I just nonchalantly pull her shirt down and pretend it was no big deal?  How in the hell does one go about removing one's hand from one's own daughter's sexy little butt?  The moment passed with my hand still in place.  I fought my dick down and waited for Chrissy's outraged protest.  With all the 'bad touching' indoctrination the kids get in school these days I was sure I was in for it.
	Chrissy simply sighed again and snuggled closer.  My fingers slid into her little crack.  My insubordinate dick bypassed the chain of command and sprang to attention.  I gave up trying to control it and tried concentrating on the movie.  At the back of my mind a small voice tried to tell me that perhaps I was having such trouble figuring how to remove my hand from my daughters sleek little ass because I liked it right where it was.  I ignored that as well.
	As predicted, Chrissy was asleep in minutes.  The soft, regular 'whuff' of her sweet breath in my ear told me that.  I gently removed my hand from her butt and sat her up.  I gathered her into my arms and headed for the bedroom.
	I laid her out on her back and straightened her legs.  I was reaching for the T-shirt to pull it down when dick and alcohol ganged up on me.  I grasped the hem of her shirt alright but instead of pulling it down I gently eased it up, exposing her bald little-girl twat.  The snowy white little lips almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the cabin.  Trying not to think I eased down to my knees before bending and placing a light kiss on that pretty little pussy.  
	Guiltily I pulled her shirt down and then pulled up the sheet and tucked her in.  I kissed her again, this time on her rosy cheek then turned and left.
	I got another bottle of vodka and then dug into the boat's little stash of soft porn, one advantage of a boat meant for newlyweds.  Soon I had my dick in my hand masturbating furiously.  I tried to concentrate on the parade of big boobs and round, tan asses that paraded across the little screen but the image in my mind when I sprayed myself with cum had no boobs at all and her ass was snowy white.
	I cleaned up and put something on the DVD full of car crashes and gun battles.  I finished the boat's vodka supply before the end credits rolled.
	I fumbled down to my boxers and stumbled into bed.  I was still feeling guilty and in a somewhat evil mood.  I wanted nothing more than to sleep.  I'd sort it out in the morning, I hoped.  I gave a final, drunken stretch and the back of one hand encountered bare flesh.  I scrabbled around till I encountered a prominent little shoulder blade.  More curious than anything I allowed my hand to slide down a long line of vertebrae till it encountered the swell of a warm little butt.  The little vixen, she was nude.  The alcohol and earlier relief kept me from popping a fresh boner.  We'd talk in the morning.
	I awoke to a hangover and the teasing smell of coffee and bacon.  I fumbled to the head and pissed then splashed water on my face.  I needed a shower and a shave.  Both would wait for breakfast.
	Chrissy was in the galley humming to herself as she flipped eggs.  She was wearing a midriff baring halter and a pair of loose cotton shorts.  Beside her sat a heaping plate of bacon and a full carafe of steaming coffee.  I made a beeline for the latter.
	Chrissy wouldn't let me help with breakfast.  She insisted I remain seated while she bustled around filling plates and buttering toast.  I couldn't help but admire her.  All of eleven years old and already the lady of the boat.
	The storm had left branches scattered about but done no harm.  We swept the deitrus over the side than released the lines.  The water and the tugging had caused two of my granny knots to lock into immobility.  We had to cut the lines.  I vowed to study that knot chart a little closer.
	I got us out in mid channel then let Chrissy take over.  I tried some more fishing but got no nibbles.  I figured the rain was to blame.  I took the helm in mid morning.  All through the morning I kept reminding myself that me and my daughter needed to talk.  The opportunity never seemed to arise.
	'Ruby's Bait' was a nearly derelict series of floating docks on the inside of a bend in the river.  Half of the establishment had sunk at some time in the past and never raised.  Only the roof of a long boathouse and a rusty Texaco sign marked its grave.
I eased us up to the part still afloat.  A rotund grandfather type with no hair and about three teeth met us and took the lines.  He grinned vacantly and stood blocking the gangway.  It took several moments for me to realize that the old coot had checked out some time in the past.
	A woman of perhaps 50 and of equal heft rolled out a door and shooed him off.  She then turned an eye to us, "Never know dad was once the best outfitter in 100 miles."  She shook her head sadly, "Alzheimer's, damned its rotted little disease hide."  She perked up after a moment, "Well come on in folks.  Sit a spell, grab some grub."
	The inside of Ruby's was rustic but pleasant.  The store was crammed to overflowing with fishing tackle, outboard parts and outdoorsy gimwacks. The smell of fresh food, rotted wood and engine oil made a surprisingly pleasant combination.  A tiny counter was fronted by six stools.  White china plates and linen wrapped silverware fronted each stool.
	We lunched brilliantly on venison steaks and fresh bread with corn on the cob for spice.  The woman was cook, waitress and tour guide rolled into one.  She waddled back and forth from the kitchen, keeping tea glasses and bread basket full, all the while never once interrupting her monologue about the river, its history, and its people.  
	As we ate we learned that the woman's grandsons took it in season.  They froze it and dolled it out to river travelers the year round.  What we were eating was very nearly the last of it.  The question caused the woman to shift gears.  Now it was personal history we were treated to.  The camp had been prosperous back before her father's mind went.  Then half the camp had gone to a tornado and ended up on the bottom of the river.  At about the same time her daughter had gone to drugs and ended up in the morgue.  It was just her and the grandsons now, them and the drooling wreck that was the remains of the patriarch.  On and on she went, pouring her woes out to strangers as if we were the most intimate of friends.  Not once did the flow of tea or hot bread cease.
 	When we finished eating I wondered through the little store with Chrissy looking for something to buy.  I saw nothing we needed however and finally simply paid the lunch tab.  I waited while Chrissy went to the bathroom then dropped a fifty on the counter as we headed for the door.
	The woman's voice stopped up halfway across the floor.  "What's this?"  She was holding the crisp fifty in her hand.
	"It's a tip."
	Her plain face hardened briefly then she banged a key on the old mechanical cash register.  Bells jangled and the drawer popped open.  She tucked the fifty away then counted out some bills and waddled across the floor and thrust them in my hand.  "Five dollars is a tip.  Fifty is charity.  We don't except the latter here."  She turned and headed back for her counter.  "Y'all have a nice trip,"
	We made our way back to the boat.  As Chrissy skipped ahead of me I counted out the bills in my hand.  Forty-five dollars, exactly.   We boarded and the old man came out to handle the lines.  He watched us slip away down river, he was still staring after us when the pines closed in and hid him from view.  As I moved us back into mid channel I mused on the meaning of family, obligation and pride.
	Chrissy sunned herself most of the afternoon.  Thankfully the sundeck was behind me.  Every time I turned around it seemed I got a different view of that sexy little pre-teen body in that scandalous little bikini.  When that happened my dick would stay hard for the next fifteen minutes or so.  We had to have that talk soon.
	She went below to start supper in mid-afternoon.  She claimed to have something special in mind.  At first the smells wafting up the little spiral stairs were pleasant enough but soon the distinct smell of burned victuals began to drift upward.  Several times I thought I actually saw smoke.  The sound of childish swearing reached my ears several times.  I steeled myself and kept my hands on the wheel.
	Toward evening we rounded a bend to find a small community ahead.  A major highway crossed the river here.  Gas station and restaurant signs competed with the setting sun to illuminate the night.  I slipped the boat into a little artificial cove built to shelter a community boat ramp.  I nosed the boat up onto a grassy beach then took the anchor line and wrapped it around a convenient tree, anchor and all.  Unorthodox but we weren't going anywhere.
	I went below to find Chrissy resplendent in a green silk gown.  I vaguely remembered buying it for a piano recital she'd given.  One that I'd missed.  She'd grown since and the once floor length gown was now above her dainty ankles.  It also hugged her little girl curves more than the designer had ever intended.  She'd done something with her hair.  It was now piled atop her head, leaving the smooth nape of her graceful neck bare.  A pair of tiny stud earrings and perhaps a touch of makeup completed the effort.  She looked stunning, a child princess.
	Right now the makeup was in considerable danger.  Chrissy's eyes were moist and it was plain she was on the verge of breaking down completely.  One look at the table told why.  It had been covered in a white linen cloth and an effort made to lay out elegant place settings.  Two taper candles in fake crystal holders completed the effect.
It was the food that was the problem.  She had gotten ambitious and tried a haute cuisine dinner without either the resources or skills.  The results were disastrous.  The chicken was burned to a crisp as were the flat pre-mix biscuits.  The other dishes scattered about the table ranged for unpalatable to inedible.  
Determined not to let my angel down even if it killed me I smiled and gallantly pulled her chair out for her.   Once she was seated I took my own place.  We began to load up our plates, each of us pretending the food was palatable. 
The charade lasted till I tried to butter a biscuit.  The cheap plastic knife I was using in an attempt to pry the rock hard critter open bent and refused to penetrate.  I pressed harder.  The knife snapped in two, the upper part flicking up and zinging off the overhead before landing in a tureen of noxious gravy with a loud 'ploop'.
We both goggled, I desperately tried to keep from laughing for Chrissy's sake.  Luckily she didn't have that much control.  She seemed to teeter for a second between tears and snickers before tilting toward the latter.  One tiny snort opened the floodgates and in seconds we were both laughing our fool heads off.  I stood and pulled Chrissy to her feet.  We embraced as I nuzzled her soft blonde hair.  "You know baby I saw a set of golden arches when we were tying up."  As I spoke my hand my hand slid down the warm length of her supple back and down onto the curve of her little rump.  Fuck!  She wasn't wearing anything beneath that thin silk gown.  There went my cock again!
I nuzzled my daughters hair and kissed her slender neck.  "You know baby, you're supposed to wear panties under that dress."  I kept my tone nonchalant.
Chrissy wiggled out of my embrace and grinned up at me.  "I didn't want the lines to show."  She looked at the table then back at me.  "Let's chuck this mess and go get some burgers dad."
Giggling like two school children, we dumped the unappetizing meal off the stern.  Arm and arm we headed for the burger joint that glowed in the distance.  A comment from Chrissy about 'a mysterious fish kill' delivered in her best 9 year old newscaster voice left us both in stitches most of the way.
	We got a couple of heat lamp cured heart attacks with fries and gonzo sized shakes then took a corner table.  We were both hungry and talked little as we wolfed down our food.  Damn, it might have been as healthful as directing traffic at a demolition derby but it was good.  
	As I ate I gradually became aware of the stares we were getting from the dozen or so other patrons.  Actually I should say the looks Chrissy was getting.  In her silk gown with her coifed hair she was the belle of the ball.  Several matronly women beamed at her.  Two plump teenage girls stared daggers at her.  Three teenaged boys who the plump girls were probably trying to attract nearly drooled at her.  I took it all in and couldn't decide whether to be proud or concerned.  Chrissy was oblivious to it.  Once or twice she grinned up at me with 'special sauce' oozing down her chin but the sensation she was creating passed by her unnoticed. 
	Sated, we headed back to the boat.  There was a little park just above the boat ramps with picnic tables, a big pavilion and a playground.  Laughing and giggling, we played tag around the latter before settling on a big glider style swing.  Time for that talk I thought but Chrissy beat me to it.
	Dreamily, she rested her head on my shoulder.  One finger idly traced patterns on the back of my hand.  "Can we talk daddy?"
	"Sure baby."
	"What was wrong with that man at the marina?  He wasn't right was he?"
	That took me by surprise.  "No baby, he wasn't.  He had a disease, a bad disease."
	She looked up at me, her eyes dark spots in the white of her face.  "Will he get better?"
	"No honey, he won't get better."
	For the next twenty minutes I told Chrissy of the horrors of Alzheimer's, how it made a stranger out of a loved one and left him isolated and cut off from those around him.  I didn't set out to tell a horror story but I didn't varnish over the facts either.  When I finished Chrissy shivered and held me tighter.  She stared into the night for a moment then tacked like a sailboat in a stiff breeze.
	"That boy yesterday.  He was playing with himself wasn't he?"
	"Yes honey, he was masturbating."  
	"And he was looking at me while he did it?"
	I tried to inject some levity into the moment, "Well you never know these days.  He might have been looking at me."
	Chrissy rolled her eyes, "Daddeeee!  I'm serious."
	I reached down and stroked her hair.  "Yes baby, he was looking at you."
	She looked up at me again.  "Why?"
	My mind stuttered like a Pinto with two fouled plugs.  "Ugh, well baby it's like this.  He was a boy and you are a girl.  Boys are attracted to girls-"
	"Daddeee!  I know that but I'm not -attractive that way."  She dropped her head back to my shoulder.
	"Baby, you're pretty and cute.  Young boys find pretty and cute young girls sexy.  Especially when those pretty and cute girls aren't wearing much.  You know, like that bathing suit you conned me into buying."
	Her head snapped up, I could see the stars glinting in her eyes.  "He though I was sexy?"
	Stutter, stutter, stutter, "Ugh, I'm sure he did babe."
	She bit her lip then blurted out, "Do you think I'm sexy daddy?"
	Oh shit!  I took a deep breath.  "Baby, fathers are not supposed to think their daughters are sexy."  Good answer.  I patted myself on the back.
	Chrissy looked me square in the eye?  "Daddy, you didn't answer the question."
	Fuck, so much for the flanking retreat.  I had never lied to Chrissy.  I can still remember the day a tear stained four year old had asked if what an older child had tauntingly told her was true, that there was no Santa Clause.  It had broken my heart but I had set her down and gently told her that her beloved Santa was a myth, a chimera for children.  She'd cried for most of a day.
	I stared into her determined little face for a moment.  "Yes, baby I think you're sexy."
	She blushed prettily then stared down at the ground.  "Is that why you're thi--, you're  p-penis was stiff when we went skinny dipping?"
	This was not going according to plan.  "Baby, a man sometimes can't control what parts of his body does, especially that part."  Damned true, and the source of much much grief for the male of the species. "Someday, when you are a woman you will meet a man and he will love you like a man loves a woman, like I loved your mother.  That's one kind of love a father cannot have for his daughter.  The problem is my di--, my penis doesn't know that."  I reached down and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead.  "Penis's are stupid.  They only see a pretty, healthy, sexy girl and they react.  That's why its important for pretty little girls to not run around naked in front of their fathers."  I leaned down and kissed her forehead, "Or get in bed naked with them."
	She nodded and seemed to accept that.  We stood and headed back to the boat arm in arm.
	I was rather proud of my performance despite the rocky start.  We watched another mushy movie then demolished several cups of hot chocolate.  When we finally slipped into the boat's big bed I was much relieved to find my darling daughter demurely clad in a long nightgown.  As I was drifting off to sleep I tried to deny the fact that part of me was disappointed.  I succeeded, mostly.
	We ran into more wilderness the next day.  A few more fish camps, several bridges, then the forest closed in on both sides.  Chrissy jumped with joy when we puttered around a bend at midday and surprised several deer drinking from the shore.
	We motored on through the day, lunching on sandwiches as we went.  In the afternoon I turned the helm over to Chrissy and again tried my luck off the stern.  I wasn't immediately rewarded but perseverance paid off and by the time the sun was dipping behind the thick trees on the western bank I had a dozen decent keepers.  
	There was no real beach here so we moored to a fallen tree that thrust out toward mid-river.  The un-submerged part made a decent foot path to shore.
	With the boat secure the two of us set to enthusiastically cleaning fish.  A contest of sorts developed and soon the scales were flying.  My fillets were a little short of neat but I beat the giggling little monster by nearly a whole fish.
	Finished, we stood ands grinned at each other.  Scales glistened from hair, arms and faces.  "I'll get the grill fired up baby but first we'd better get cleaned up."
	Chrissy nodded, grinned wider, then pulled her T-shirt off over her head, exposing her flat chest to the dying sun.  Her shorts went next leaving her clad only in her thin panties.  I didn't have long to gawk at these for long because a second later they were on the deck too.  She took two steps then cut a clean arc and knifed into the water.  My last view before she vanished was that trim little butt attached to those coltish legs.
It had all happened so quickly my cock hadn't even twitched.
	Chrissy surfaced a dozen yards from the boat.  "Come on dad, it feels good."
	I shaded my eyes against the fading sunset and shook my head at her.  "I actually had a shower in mind baby."
	"Oh poo!  This is more fun, and faster."
	She had a point.  Just whose hang up was the problem here anyway.  Somehow after last night that there would be no more skinny dipping, no more tantalizing glimpses of pre-pubescent charms, no more guilt inducing hardons.  Was that what I really wanted?  I didn't know.  I do know that a second later I was happily shucking my own shorts.  The cold water was like a bracing slap as I cut it like a knife.
	The swim turned into a game of tag which shortly degenerated into a wrestling match.  My strength was matched against youth's dexterity and I came out second best.  Time and again Chrissy eeled out of a hold or landed a well placed slap and arched away before I could retaliate.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy this aquatic touchy-feely and I'm not simply speaking in the platonic sense.  My dick was soon as hard as a rock, Chrissy knew it too.  Several times a foot, thigh or hand brushed across my stiff prick.  Did I see a glimmer in her eyes or was that the fever dreams of a middle aged pervert.  The guilt started up again but I quashed it back down.  I'd explained it all to Chrissy, if she still wanted to explore a little then that was the way of youth.  Damn, rationalization comes easy sometimes.
	Small things sometimes have big repercussions.  The fate of nations rest on chance and error, so do those of men, women and little girls.  It is likely that we would have played our games the rest of the trip and nothing would have come of it but a few whack off fantasies and a glimmer in a little girls eye.  At that moment I decided to swim under the boat however, and hit the propeller head first at speed.
	Chrissy was dogging me bad.  My self respect demanded at least one good coup on the little minx before the night was done.  She'd been swimming around the boat, using its bulk as a shield while she plotted her next attack.  I decided to go for the long bomb and hit the little witch in her unprotected flank.  A deep breath and down I went, beneath the boat.  I was anticipating the surprised look on her face when pain blossomed and the world went black and red.
	The next minutes are a blur.  I know I inhaled some water because I remember coughing and spluttering.  How I made the surface I don't know.  I remember gripping something, the boat I presume, and holding on weakly while I coughed and gagged and the world spun.  I remember a scream that seemed to echo down a tunnel from a great distance then arms were grabbing me, pulling me.  There was a voice and choked sobs but they seemed to come from very far away.  I have no Idea how Chrissy got me up the ladder, logic says I had to do most of the work but I have no memory of it.  Presently I recall a hard surface beneath my back and gentle hands lifting my head to place a balled towel beneath it.  Chrissy was just a white blur, shot to red at the edges as she worked.  Hot tears fell on my face as she sobbed and cried.
	She went away for a time then was back, she was crying, or someone was.  Gentle hands washed my face, pain grated as the washcloth moved over flayed flesh but it was remote like everything else.
	I drifted in and out because in my next snippet of fever dream it was darker.  There was the stretch/pull feeling of a bandage being sealed into place.  My ears were ringing now but I could still here the distant sobs.
	I drifted back in time.  I remembered Chrissy's birth.  How radiant Diane had looked with our daughter on her breast.  I remembered that night vividly.  The hospital had insisted keeping both mother and daughter at least a day.  A disappointing blow for me because my wife and eye had not had sex in the last month and I was looking forward to breaking the fast even if it was only a handjob.  I'd resigned myself to another barren night but Diane would have none of it.  She'd pulled up onto the bed then given me a glorious blow job while our new daughter slept a few feet away and doctors and nurses bustled by just outside the door.  I remembered the soft, almost tentative strokes of her lips, the gentle sucking, the hot depths of her mouth.  Knowing that at any moment the door could open and we would be caught had made the activity that much more intense.  Suck, lick, suck.  God she had a magic mouth.  The memory still so vivid, even after six years I could almost feel those soft lips.
	It was the intensity of my orgasm that finally brought me fully into the world of the living.  I groaned, opened my eyes, and fired a load of hot cum into Chrissy's sucking mouth.
	We stared at each other for a frozen moment, I goggling and Chrissy frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.  My softening dick slipped from her lips followed by a streamer of cum.  
	I came off the deck like a salmon at spawning time and slapped my daughter hard, knocking her to the deck.  "Chrissy, no!"
	She tumbled, fetching up against the cabin then stared at me in shock.  I had never struck her before.  Her hair covered her face in a curtain that she stared fearfully through as I raged above her.
	"Get out of my sight you little slut.  Go!"
	In an instant she was gone, a kitten scolded, not understanding.  Her wracking sobs trailed behind her.  She glanced back only once, just long enough for me to see the shock crumple into bone deep hurt.
	My head was throbbing.  I raised a shaky hand to my head and felt the neat bandage.  The bump was prominent even through the thick padding.
	Shakily I made my way to the lounge.  I took two aspirin then fumbled in the mini-bar for a tequila chaser.  I sunk onto the sofa.  The enormity of what had just occurred only now falling in on me.  How much of my reaction was genuine anger at Chrissy and how much rage at myself for having one of my fantasies come to life.  I sucked at the tequila while the aspirin worked.  By the time the bottom of the bottle was exposed I had an answer of sorts.  
	I'd fucked up.  Chrissy had acted like the curious, precocious child she was and I'd overreacted.  My rage was not at her but at myself.  I found her sexually attractive, continuing to deny that was only going to cause more hurt and I'd already caused quite enough of that.  I felt guilty about that attraction and in a rage had struck out at the object of that guilt.  But that object was my daughter, who I loved more than anything else in the world.  God I felt like shit.
	I followed the sobs aft.  Chrissy was in the bed, curled into a small miserable ball.  I sat down on the edge and reached out to stroke one slender ankle.  "Chrissy, I'm sorry baby.  I didn't-I shouldn't have done what I did.  I shouldn't have hit you baby.  I can't tell you how bad I feel about that."
	I looked at her for a moment.  The sobs had not lessened.  She was hurt, badly hurt and I had spoken the truth.  I couldn't tell her how bad I felt about what I had done but maybe, just maybe I could show her.
	I increased the length of my caresses till I was massaging up to the back of one dainty knee.  It was warm there with moisture gathered in the little hollow.  I leaned down and kissed a slender calf as my hands continued their journey.  I stoked her thighs, rubbing and caressing then moved on to lightly massage her little rear.  My lips followed my trailblazing hands.  I kissed my way past her knees and up her tightly closed thighs.  When I reached her buttocks I continued to stroke as I showered slow, feather weight kisses on her round little ass.
	Part of me gibbered at where this leading but majority of my being felt the rightness of it.  I had hurt, now I would comfort.  I gently took Chrissy in my arms, her slight form still shaking with sobs but not as intense now.  I stroked her and cooed comfort as I rolled her onto her back and eased her out of the fetal position.  Again I stroked and kissed, moving slowly up her calves.  When I reached the bony plates of her knees I licked around each then kissed them dry.  I kissed and caressed up her thighs and onto the flat plain of her stomach.  I heard a gasp as my tongue circled and then entered her little belly button.
	Chrissy had stopped crying and now stared at me with a puffy, damp face and reddened eyes.  Her hair was a tangled mess, she was beautiful.
	I smiled reassurance and then applied gentle pressure.  At first their was resistance but then her thighs slowly opened.  Before me was the puffy little treasure of her unsullied vagina.  It's smooth round lips lacked any of the curl of womanhood, it was smooth, white, perfect.
	My gibbering self screamed louder, a great gulf seemed to yawn ahead.  A thousand voices screamed at the wrongness of it.  I took it all in, processed it, considered it, took counsel from it, then my mouth descended.
	A soft 'oh' eased from my daughters lips as I planted that first kiss on her tiny twat.  I mouthed it a moment, trying to pull those little portals open with just the pressure of my lips.  My tongue followed, gently bathing her bald little cunt before venturing to that wonderful little groove.  I explored it, running up and down before applying pressure and forcing my way into her gooey center.  Chrissy groaned and arched her back as her father's tongue pushed into her pussy for the first time.
	She smelled, tasted and felt divine.  I knew nirvana.  Nowhere on Earth was there a woman as sexy as the child I held and tasted.  I pushed deeper, lapping her little pussy and exploring its depths before seeking out the hidden center of her.  When my tongue first touched her little clit the breath went from her.  She squealed and arched again, lifting her butt from the bed and pushing her bald cunny at my face.
	I eased her legs further apart then draped one over each shoulder.  My hands cupped the cheeks of her perfect little ass as I really went to work with my tongue.
	It didn't take long.  In less than a minute Chrissy began to shake and push herself harder at me.  I knew she was close and began to alternately lap her little clit and push into the impossibly tight center of her.  Chrissy grasped twin handfuls of sheet and began to violently shake her head from side to side, her blond mane cut a barely seen arc through the darkness of the cabin.  Abruptly she tensed and pushed at me harder.  Her muscles clenched, each one clearly defined on her flat stomach and slender thighs.  A groan became a scream and fluid began to drip from my chin as her pussy spasmed around my tongue.  I hung on and rode it out as my daughter came for the first time, her first cum, and it was into her father's mouth.
	Afterwards she was spent, her body as limber as a wet noodle.  I eased her down and stretched her out on the bed.  I kissed her twice, once on her sweet mouth and the second on her sweet pussy.  I then pulled up the sheet and gently exited the cabin.
	I had the grill going and was cooking fish when she emerged onto the aft deck.  She'd donned one of my T-shirts it left her legs bare.  She seated herself beside me and shook out her hair.  I saw a flash of white as the shirt rode up but in the gloom couldn't tell if it was cotton panties or little girl crotch that flashed at me.
	We didn't speak as I cooked the last of the fish.  We loaded up the platter and headed inside.  The mosquitoes had found us, a moonlight meal on the deck was not in the cards.
	Chrissy sat the platter on the table then turned to face me.  I gasped as I saw her in the light for the first time that evening.  Her face had puffed up where I had struck her, the flesh already an angry purple.
	With a sob I crossed the lounge and took her into my arms.  I held her to me and rocked her as my tears fell onto her golden head.
	Now it was Chrissy's turn to comfort.  She rubbed my back and said "it's all right daddy, it's all right" over and over.
	Eventually I seated myself on the divan and pulled my angel into my lap.  I gently pushed the hair from her face and examined the deepening bruise.  This brought fresh tears to my eyes.  Slowly I leaned forward and gently kissed the abused flesh.  I moved to her forehead and kissed again.  Her eyelids and then the tip of her dainty nose became targets.  I pulled back a little and looked at her.  Her expression was one of wonder and trust.  I stared for a moment, taking in the loveliness of her.  Slowly my mouth descended again till our lips met.  I kissed my daughter gently, my tongue caressing her lips and teeth.  She was unsure, tentative at first but then her tongue sojourned out to meet mine.  Like two warriors they met at the no mans land of our joining and circled and parried, taking the measure of the other.  Then with rising passion the contest was on.  Chrissy moaned into my mouth as we kissed like lovers.  
	We were breathless when we pulled back a moment later.  I stared at Chrissy in wonder and saw the identical feeling in her eyes.  After a moment she glanced down.  I followed her gaze to see that she had pulled the T-shirt up past her navel.  The white I had seen was not panties.  Our eyes met again, the invitation was clear, so was something else, a fear of rejection perhaps, a fear that the demon of guilt would turn her father/lover against her.  I leaned forward and kissed her again then eased her from my lap.  I dropped to my knees and, as the fish cooled, ate my 9 year old daughter to her second orgasm of the night.  In minutes her thighs tightened around my ears and she screamed her passion at the dark, empty river.
	We ate like gluttons then spent the evening curled on the boat's sofa cuddling and kissing.  Open mouth kissing was something new and wonderful to Chrissy and she couldn't get enough of it.  As we kissed my hands wondered her immature body taking liberties with her charms.  She moaned into my mouth as my hands molested her.
	I awoke in the morning to sun streaming through the window.  I stretched and then opened my eyes.  Chrissy knelt alongside the bed, gloriously nude.  The sheet had been pulled from me and my morning hardon jutted up to greet the dawn.  Chrissy alternated her gaze from it to my face.  Her expression was a question with a hint of fear behind it.  Would the monster return?
	I smiled at her and reached out to stroke her hair then with gentle pressure pulled her head down till her lips met cock.  She paused a second then returned my smile before letting her mouth open to take me in.  I coaxed and coached her as her blond head bobbed.  As the birds began their morning song I taught my daughter to give head.  She really wasn't that good but the perverse stimulation of having my own pre-teen daughter performing this intimate act made up for any lack of technique.  Despite the pain from a full bladder and my aching head I was soon blowing a load of cum into my angel's sucking little mouth.  She gagged on my load and most of it ran back down my shaft but she didn't pull away till my balls were empty.
	We breakfasted on leftover fish then got underway.  Chrissy flew about the boat, a blissful dervish.  Any residual guilt I felt melted away from that little ball of giggling enthusiasm.  She got into her suit and laid out around mid-morning but instead of using the boats expansive top sun deck she chose the tiny fore deck, little more than a walk around for handling lines.  This insured that I only had to drop my eyes to get an eyeful of oil covered pre-teen skin.  Every now and then she would glance up to see if I was looking then giggle and stretch if I was, the little minx.
	Lunch was again sandwiches underway.  Chrissy came up in a T-shirt with a platter.  She ate hers then took over while I wolfed down my own meal.  I was standing behind her wondering what was under that shirt when a slender hand came back and raised it above her waist, showing me without a doubt that there was nothing beneath that shirt but little girl.
	Growling, I dropped to my knees behind her and shoved my face into her smooth little ass.  Chrissy squealed and shook as I ate her little pussy from the rear.  Her anus winked at me so I worked my way up to it.  I circled a couple of times then battered down the portal and ventured inside.  Analingus was new to her and her toned little body trembled at this new violation.  She moaned and kept repeating "so nasty" as I brought her to a shuddering orgasm with my tongue in her tight little butt.
	She teased me the rest of the day.   When she wasn't laying on the fore deck and pulling that already skimpy suit up into her little crack she was flitting about the top deck in a shorty shirt and bending over to shoot me glimpses of butt and bald little twat.  When I finally found a woody little cove and tied up early my dick was an iron bar.  
	When I stepped below Chrissy took one look at my bulging crotch and dropped to her knees before me.  In seconds my shorts were on the deck and her lips and tongue were all over my cock.  I was too wound up to last long and painted her tonsils as I moaned and stroked her hair.
	We spent the evening nude and in each others arms.  I stretched Chrissy out on the deck then proceeded to give her a 'trip around the world' my tongue bathing every square inch of her sexy little body.  It was exquisite torture that I stretched into an hour on toe curling, teeth gnashing ecstasy.  She came twice without me even touching her privates.  When, at the end, I dove into her little pussy and ate bald, baby cunt like a madman she came another three times in the space of minutes.
	We took a break for supper then were at each other again.  I introduced her to the '69' position and feasted on daughter twat while she gobbled dick.  It was after midnight before we showered together and collapsed exhausted into bed.
	I awoke before dawn with a splitting head, worse the guilt I had avoided the day before struck hard the day after.  I slipped out of bed without waking Chrissy and padded out to the galley.  I found some instant coffee and spilled some into a cup of micro-zapped water.  Normally I hate the freeze dried stuff but this morning I was in no mood to wait for it to brew.
	I grabbed brew and a handful aspirin and made my way out to the deck.  A low white mist hung over the river, there was no wind.  Neither the black glass surface of the river nor the blacker paper cutout that was the forest moved.  Everywhere around me the world was still and silent.  
What the fuck was I thinking!  I'd started a sexual relationship with my daughter!  My 9 year old daughter!  Shit!  My gibbering part began to rise in panic.  Fuck!  She'd tell somebody, a friend, a teacher, a confessor, somewhere, somehow she'd tell then it would be the big house for me.  It was shame that derailed that train of thought.  No matter what happened to me it paled compared to Chrissy's fate.  What harm had I done to her.  Would she be messed up for life or would she get over it.  Damn it!  I was the adult, the trustworthy one.  Up till now it had been practically branded on my forehead, 'responsible adult'.  Responsible, right, what had I done?  Overhead the stars wheeled in pinpricked brilliance and did not offer comment.
The aspirin wasn't working.  I tossed the rest of my rancid coffee overboard and made my way back inside.  In the head I peeled the bandage off my head.  Underneath the wound was red and angry looking with a pocket of puss down the center.  Fucking lovely.
Chrissy awoke as I started the engine.  She wondered into the lounge nude and cast me a quizzical eye.  Normally we breakfasted before getting underway.  I started to grown at her to get dressed but before I could speak she noticed my seeping head.  She gave a little cry and vanished aft.
I got us into mid channel and headed down river before she returned.  Then I could only stand and wince as she blotted, poked and smeared.  Only when she was done did she purse her lips for a kiss.  When all she got was a peck she looked at me oddly then began to rub her bald pussy on my hairy thigh.  I gently pushed her away and pointedly ignored her hurt look.
Slanting Rock was a bump on a bend in the river, population 657, sopping wet.  We reached it about ten in the morning.  I eased the boat up alongside a rickety pier and held her against the current while Chrissy made us fast.  The old timbers groaned alarmingly when I eased the engine and let them take the load.
Chrissy had left me alone most of the morning, attributing my surliness and distance to the pain from my head, but now we strolled up the street hand in hand.  I was wearing khakis and a golf shirt while Chrissy wore a sleeveless top and a knee length skirt.  We were the very picture of a wholesome, loving father and daughter.  Ha!  We were loving alright, too much of that lately, it was the wholesome part that needed polish.
A few inquiries revealed that the little burg had no doctor but there was a county hospital about 15 miles away.  When we inquired about a taxi service we discovered that was another amenity Slanting Rock did not enjoy.  Finally the grocer took pity on us and made some phone calls.  We were sitting in the shade out front when a mud spattered deputy sheriff's car pulled up.
Chrissy rode up front while I sat behind the security screen in the back.  It was a scene so reminiscent of my first morning fears that I had to fight down the urge to laugh.  I had to fight to avoid crying too and that was harder.  
Deputy Lance Cooling was 300 pounds of cheerfulness.  He seemed to smile constantly and genuinely enjoyed being of service.  He prattled on, sometimes telling jokes, other times local folk tales.  When we got truly into the sticks he demonstrated the cars siren and P.A. system to Chrissy and let her play with it for the next ten miles.  The two giggled and laughed like six year olds with a new puppy.  I sat in the back and scowled, pained, guilt ridden and jealous.
Their were only two other patients waiting in the Emergency Room, a kid with a fishhook in his hand and a surly teen with an upset stomach and a hypochondriac mother.  The nurse at the desk took one look at me and hustled us in first.
A doctor who didn't look old enough to shave much less practice medicine clucked and prodded for a moment then announced that the wound was infected and would need stitches.  Before I could make some witty comment about that startling bit of insight he had whistled up an efficient little army of assistants.  I was given a local anesthetic then the team scraped, irrigated and sewed me back up.  I was given a shot for the infection then a bulging envelope of pills complete with instructions.  When I was finally hustled out of the ER the grand total came to $73.25, no charge for the ride.  Most Metropolitan hospitals wouldn't let you piss in a plastic cup for that.
Deputy Cooling announced it was lunch time and stopped at a little place called 'April's Corner'.  The food was hot, fast, and very, very good.  With the pain from my wound beaten back by the miracle of chemistry my mood had began to lighten and I managed to enjoy both the food and the company.  Toward the end of the meal, while the deputy was telling yet another funny tale, movement caught my eye.  I glanced into a pair of twinkling eyes then down to find Chrissy had spread her legs slightly and pulled her skirt up.  My 9 year old daughter was sitting beside a hulking deputy sheriff and flashing me her bald little twat!  The little witch hadn't worn any panties!  I almost choked on my apple pie.  Despite my reservations I also got pipe hard, it was a stunt right out of her mother's playbook.
I insisted on picking up the tab then the good deputy drove the two of us right out to the dock.  He and Chrissy waved to each other till I cast off and got us underway.  Just before the pines swallowed him I raised my own hand.
I thought hard the rest of the day and, maybe sensing my dilemma, Chrissy left me alone to do it.  As the boat chugged along I swung back and forth.  'No harm done' said ying, 'Rationalization' accused yang.  'Child Molester' screamed yang, 'Child Lover' corrected ying.  Yang said I had molested my daughter, ying claimed I had pleasured her.  Around and around they went and I went along for the ride.  By the time we tied up among a grove of neglected apples I was no closer to an answer but I knew me and Chrissy had to talk, seriously talk.
I got to it right after supper.  I dumped the dishes into the sink and pulled Chrissy out onto the aft deck.  We sat and, with the burble of the current funneling under the stern as accompaniment I presented my case to Chrissy.  I told her about societies taboo against incest.  I told her about the common attitude about sex with children and the very real reasons behind it.  I spoke of the harm some people believe both cause and told of the legal penalties I would face should it come to light.  Finally I spoke of my own very mixed feelings about what we had done.  I didn't lie. I told her that I found her sexy, frighteningly so, but I also told her of my fears, for her, and for me.  Years of standing before the bench stood me well and I laid it all out, facts, suppositions and emotions.  When I was finished I leaned back and waited.  Never in all of my years as an attorney had I awaited a juries decision with greater anticipation.
	For several minutes Chrissy said nothing, then, just as the crickets began to sing, she smiled.  "Daddy, are you leaving it up to me?"
	I nodded.  "I suppose I am, but I want you to consider all I said before reaching any decision.  I love you baby, no matter what.  We'll talk some more in the morning."  I made to rise but Chrissy stopped me with an outstretched hand.
	"Daddy, you talk slow.  I can consider and listen at the same time.  I think I'm all considered out."  She paused a second, "I've already decided."
	I bit my lip, "And what have you decided?"
	She leaned out slightly and looked both up and down the river before turning back to me.  "I've decided", she rose slightly then pulled her skirt up before setting back down and spreading her legs, "that I'd like you to lick my pussy some more, right here, right now."
The next week was a blur of cruising and sex.  Chrissy was insatiable and after 6 years without I was up to the demand.  I didn't try any penetration, Chrissy was still a child, no matter how desirable and wanton, and I didn't want to hurt her.
I didn't totally escape the guilt, it wasn't that neat or clean.  It still kept coming back to grab me and shake at the odd interval.  One look at my smiling daughter as she giggled and bopped around the boat without a care in the world generally banished the beast.
At the two week point on our sojourn we were deep into Tennessee.  Deep enough I realized we were going to have to run hard from dawn to dusk everyday if we were to have the boat back to the rental dock before our lease expired.  That didn't sound like much fun so while we were stopped at yet another fish camp for lunch I made a phone call.  No indeed, it turned out, Buddy didn't mind at all if we dropped his boat off someplace else other than his dock.  He could send one of his boys with a truck and trailer to retrieve it.  There would of course be a small service charge, about $300 that was in addition to a $500 consumed stores deposit.  They'd inventory the boat after they got it back and refund me any excess from the latter.  From his tone Buddy expected me to promise to move heaven and Earth to be back at his dock on time.  To his surprise I didn't even quibble, arranging for charge card payment over the phone.
With that bugaboo off our backs we purchased a few stores and were back on the water.  We were actually on a lake by now, a big bastard created by the TVA in the thirties.  I figured we'd spend several days circumnavigating it then head back to the river. 
We had supper at a glitzy little place that was built on stilts out on the water.  Paper lanterns were hung about the wraparound porch.  Inside the faintly oriental motif continued with screens and bead hangings between the many cramped little dining rooms and alcoves.  The place was apparently a favorite with the locals because there was a decent crowd.  Tobacco smoke and burbling conversation drifted through the place, moved in lazy eddies by the lethargic labors of ceiling fans.
A pimply teen waitress wearing braces and a slit kimono seated us in an intimate little nook that held only one other empty table.  The menu was overpriced but surprisingly cosmopolitan for rural Tennessee.  Fanciful local names had been made up for some of the dishes.  We spent a minute giggling over these before placing our order.  The meal came with a carafe of red wine.  I glanced at Chrissy then requested two glasses.  I expected a battle there but the teen simply nodded.  I doubted she was old enough to serve alcohol, that might have explained her lack or concern over someone too young to legally drink it.
The food was good, a little over spiced but still good.  As we ate Chrissy matched me glass for glass on the wine.  It didn't take long for her to get giggly silly.  We were just finishing up the main course when Chrissy got a giggling fit.  I followed her gaze to find that she'd opened the three buttons on the side of her denim wrap skirt and laid it open like a towel.  We were sitting in a crowded restaurant and my nine year old daughter was naked from the waist down.  It alarmed me greatly but the steel in my pants could not be denied.  The wanton little vixen was also turning me on like crazy.
I slid my hand across her thin, smooth thigh and began to finger that drooling hairless slit.  Chrissy threw back her head and moaned.
I was trying to penetrate her with my finger when I heard a gasp behind me.  I whirled so fast my back popped.  Our teen waitress stood with her hand to her mouth while our check fluttered to the floor.
A thousand terrible scenarios thundered my mind in less than a second.  It was over, I was finished and Chrissy would spend the rest of her childhood being shuttled from foster home to foster home while having it drummed into her head what a monster her father was.
Chrissy had more poise than I did or maybe she just saw something that I hadn't in my panic.  Whatever the case she kept her cool.  She made no attempt to cover up, simply picking up her glass and taking another sip of wine, all the while holding the older girl's gaze.  She replaced the glass with great care then raised her hand and crooked one finger.
The teen stood for a further second, her tongue nervously licking her lips.  Then suddenly she spun and yanked the privacy curtain closed, sealing our little nook off from the world.  A second later she was on her knees with her face between Chrissy's thin thighs, eating bald pussy with great gusto.  Chrissy moaned into my mouth as the waitress's tongue wormed into her tight twat.  I didn't know what the future held but I knew the present was pretty damned hot.  Me and my daughter wrestled tongues one more time before I slid to the floor behind the plump teen.  The older girl groaned into bald twat as I shoved her kimono up and yanked her panties down her chubby thighs.  Her ass was wide and white and there were a few zits there too but it looked good to me as I thrust my tongue first up her fringed pussy then into her tight ass.
Chrissy met my gaze across the girl's back as I freed my cock.  She shared my joy as I thrust it into the teens hairy little gash.  We were all too turned on to last long and in less than a minute were screaming our passion as we came together.
Chrissy invited the waitress, whose name Heather, to stay the night on the boat.  We picked her up covertly at a darkened private dock then motored out and dropped the hook well offshore.  There was little sleep that night as the two girls, one a child and one nearly so, sucked my cock to repeated shuddering ejaculations.  Later I fucked heather again, in both her pussy and then her tight asshole.  Long after midnight Chrissy led Heather into the head.  I played with my cock for 10 minutes before they re-emerged.  When they did the teen was as bald down there as my daughter.  I threw her to the bed and ate her pussy with gusto.  I was not really surprised when Chrissy shoved me aside and pushed her own little face into that newly denuded cunt.
We breakfasted on eggs and bacon as the sun peeked over the lake.  Afterwards I sodomized Heather again while she and Chrissy sixty-nined on the carpeted floor of the lounge.  One I'd busted my nut and withdrawn Chrissy pulled on Heather's thick thighs till the older girl was sitting on her face with Chrissy's mouth deep in her crack.  The teen came again and then again as Chrissy thrust deep, eating my cum from her new friends asshole.
A new day had dawned.  Literally and figuratively.  I couldn't wait to see what it held.

 
	

	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	

