Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 FOREWORD
   In these dairy entries, a 43-year-old man chronicles his marriage to a
blonde and pretty 8-year-old girl, called Amy.  They will run, in real
time, for at least 1 year with entries 2 or 3 times a week.  Amy is a
typical height and figure for her age, and is a fair-skinned girl of
English origin.  She has fine blonde hair, just past shoulder length, and
normally wears it an `Alice headband'.  She is blue-eyed with a pretty,
smiley and gentle sort of face with a few nose and cheek freckles.
   Yes, it is of course fantasy, and the author does not condone actual sex
between adults and children in this world - but the private dreams and
fictionalization of it are our right to free thought.
   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
   PEDO ISLAND DIARY Saturday 31st March 2012.
   `Two Little Girls'.
   Hi, I'm Mark, a pedophile - just in case you haven't `met' me yet.  I'm
happy to accept that label, especially as I'm living in a place - `Idyllic
Island' it's called - where one can come right out and unashamedly say it,
a bit like Alchoholics Anonymous.  MY achohol, my addiction, is little
girls.  It's the whole sweetness of them: their looks, their size, their
personalities.  `Normal' adults supposedly notice those attributes too,
except they simply find them - supposedly - `cute'.  Lovable perhaps is an
appropriate word too.  For me, though, they are a cause of erection;
basically, when I see a pretty little girl I want to HAVE SEX with her, in
whatever form that might take (it depends on age - hers - and her
temperament).  In this dairy I've already spent much time describing some
of those forms, and this entry has more.  It's now 10.15am as I write, and
I've just had breakfast in a hotel on the island with the `Two Little
Girls': Amy, my wife, and Sacha, another pedo guy's wife.  He, Glenn, is
with us too.
   The evening before, we had a truly civilized and romantic double-date.
Both girls wore silky dresses: Amy's red and Sacha's black.  Sacha was the
more `whored-up', though, with high heels and pink lipstick.  I found this
novel and exciting, as previously I'd always thought I preferred little
girls in their natural, innocently-dressed state.  Amy's only decorative
features were a matching set of pearly earrings, necklace and bangles.  I
did get Amy to wear red silky panties with a heart stitched on the front of
them, as I guessed Glenn would appreciate this later.  I would have to wait
and see what Sacha had on underneath.  One thing was for sure: there'd be a
tiny, tight bald cunt there.  Neither girl wore bras - well, hell, they
didn't need them.  I think both Glenn and I simply preferred to embrace the
fact that our girls were of the age of 100% flat chest.
   The 4 of us sat at a small square table in the fine restaurant.  We two
men sat opposite the other's wife for ease of eye contact and getting to
know her (this was to be `wife-swap' weekend remember).  Of course he and I
were continuously making mental comparisons between the two girls, and
anticipating the night to come with our `new' one.  They could almost have
passed for sisters with their blonde hair, but certain things gave it away:
Sacha's more golden-tanned skin and pouty modelesque looks compared with my
fair and sweet Amy, the Russian accent and the English one, and the fact
they were a little too close in age for siblings.  Anybody could see they
were not twins.  The biggest difference was possibly in manner: the
10-month married Sacha rather sultry and direct for her age, whereas Amy
gave off a strong flavour of childhood innocence still.  3 weeks of a sex
life with me does not seem to have erased that yet.
   To say I was `intrigued' about the prospect of my night of sex with
7-year-old Sacha would be an understatement.  However, sexual things did
not enter into any of our conversation for most of the meal.  It may seem a
contradiction, but while life on Idyllic Island openly permits sex with
children and men-little girl couples wander around freely in public, social
behaviour has the same decorum as the regular civilized world.  In the
restaurant, for example, there were other pedo couples on display (teen
marriages too) along with conventional adult couples.  None of these,
however, were groping each other in full view or leering or passing lewd
comments.  You'd see hands being held across the table, loving smiles, and
the occasional kiss: for instance, I saw one guy leaning over to meet the
lips of his 10/11-year-old.  You don't tend to see that in the regular
world and, when you do, you can generally tell it was an innocent family
kiss.  This one wasn't: it was sexual affection (from him at least).  Still
weird to see, even after a month of living here, and made my heart skip a
beat.  Later I saw him leave to head up to a room with her.
   Our 4-way conversation oscillated between childish (after all, that's
what our wives literally are) and surprisingly mature.  It's fascinating,
really, how a young child can converse in a very adult way so long as she's
not given concepts or arguments she can't understand.  Example: we debated
pollution and global warming at one point, and that vegetables are good for
you but even better if served raw.  Amy correctly pointed out that
`potatoes' would not be good for you raw, though.  A minute later the two
girls were chirping and bickering about the way the `Bratz' collection of
dolls should be named and dressed.  Glenn and I tried to go with it, but
they laughed at our lack of understanding of such matters.  A kind of
little female rebellion against us there, maybe, but it was nice to see
them making friends nicely with each other.  It further inspired an idea
that I and Glenn have for them both at some stage.
   As the evening progressed, we chatted about hobbies, smiling warmly
across at the `other' wife.  The aim was to make them feel at ease with the
new man, as well as simply enjoying chatting to a little girl.  You see,
true pedos like I and Glenn enjoy the mere company of little girls almost
as much as the sex.  We love them as people, not just for their unblossomed
flesh.
   At about 9.30pm we headed up to the 2-bedroomed room we'd booked.  I've
waffled too much.  I'll have to tell you about the night another time.
   * * * * * * * * * * THE END * * * * * * * * *
   Feedback or discussion of points raised by my stories welcome at
Mazeppa1968@hotmail.co.uk 
  
Pedo Island Diary 8a