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Bell System, Book, and Candle
Chapter 1

For some people, this story just won't do it.  A simple
story code like "MF, Oral, Anal" is just too plain-vanilla
to be considered "erotic" literature.  I guess that's true
in a world where some people take the measure of your
depravity as the extent of your sexuality.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not overly prudish.  I've always
felt that pretty much "anything goes" when it's between two
consenting parties.  If there are lines to be drawn, it
always seems to come down to a matter of harm.  If somebody
suffers actual physical or emotional harm, it's not my cup
of tea.

So, again, this story is probably too tame for many of you
regulars on ASSM.  If that's the case, click the back
button and look again for something that appeals to you.
You have my apologies for wasting your time.


Jenny was 18 and delivering a pizza to my PPOE.  Remember
those big microwave towers that once dotted the
countryside?  I used to work at one; a TD-2 terrestrial
microwave relay station that carried your long-distance
calls and television programs between cities.  This one was
just east of Cleveland, Ohio and needed more attention than
most.It was built in the early 1950's and was getting
fairly dated when I worked there in the early 1990's. I was
maybe 25 and fresh out of engineering school.  Like most
hard-core techies, I had hoped to get a dream job building
the next generation of supercomputers.  That didn't happen.
Instead, I went to work for the phone company.

Ma Bell nearly died back in 1984 when she was forced to
divest herself of the local operating companies.  Longlines
was the core business left, but it was facing some stiff
competition from MCI (who bought out the old Western Union
microwave system) and Sprint (who specialized in fiber
optic cables.)  Whereas our competition was investing in
newer gear, we had the vintage stuff that was more akin to
plumbing than electronics.  Instead of integrated circuits,
we had vacuum tubes and rectangular wave-guide.  The
station was a big mess of copper tubing, filled with dry
nitrogen and excited by tuned-cavity oscillators.

Wait, this is supposed to be a sex story, not a
technological memoir!

Anyway, Jenny was delivering pizza.  It was a truly nasty
night - the kind of weather you can only get on the south
shore of Lake Erie in January.  "Lake Effect Snow" doesn't
do it justice.  Imagine hurricane-force winds driving
razor-sharp ice crystals into your face.  Arctic air
pushing south drives the temperature down into the single
digits and everything mechanical breaks.

I was out there in the wilds of eastern Ohio to insure that
the phone calls and football games got to their proper
destination, despite the weather.  That particular evening
had been pretty uneventful.  We dropped a few data calls,
but the TV network feeds were up and running and most of
the regular phone calls were getting through. AT&T was
never overly concerned about the habitability of those
stations.  The extent of our luxurious accommodations was a
single-seat privy, a kitchenette with a dorm-sized fridge,
a toaster-oven, and a Mark One - Mod Zero Amana Radar Range
that was guaranteed to cause sterility and pacemaker
malfunctions in all men within a 50 foot radius.  We could
theoretically watch television, but the 5" black-and-white
monitor built into the TV relay console dated back to 1949
and was getting so dim you couldn't really see anything.

So, as the evening progressed, I discovered the limits of
small-talk with the inside wireman (who happened to also be
the local CWA union steward.)  He had a deck of cards, but
I've never mastered any card games.  Hoping to avoid a
grievance for failing to entertain the hourly employee, I
suggested we order a Pizza.  Thus, Jennifer was dispatched
to our remote and hard-to-locate technological outpost.

The pizza was very late, and very cold, by the time she
managed to find us.  She was most apologetic and explained
that the weather and her ancient car had prevented a more
timely delivery.  Naturally, when she attempted to leave,
the car (a Pontiac Bonneville that was easily half her age)
stalled and refused to start.  Returning to the station,
her first question was "Do you guys have a phone?"

The humor of asking a couple of AT&T representatives if
they had a phone wasn't lost on the wireman.  He grunted,
smirked, and left us to concentrate on the pizza.  Now
alone with her, I smirked and said "follow me."
Now, if this was more of your typical stroke story, she
would have been stark naked and gobbling my 12" cock by the
time you turned that last page.  She wasn't.  I'm an
engineer, not a movie star.

I led her back to my "office" (actually, a partitioned off
area in the main switching bay that held my computer
terminal, desk, telephone, and assorted test equipment) and
showed her how to get an "outside line."  For some strange
reason, our telephones in this 100' square building were
tied into the PBX at the office building in Cleveland, 35
miles to the west.

She made the usual calls to her boss, her friend, and her
father.  The boss didn't care; she was off the clock in
another 30 minutes anyway.  The friend was already too
drunk (and too involved with her boyfriend) to leave.  Her
dad grumbled, and said he could be there in 45 minutes or
so.

She told me his ETA and offered to wait outside in the car.
I begged off, it was too cold outside and it wouldn't be
any trouble for her to stay right here.  She agreed, and
after an awkward silence asked me what exactly it was we
did here.

Now, if there's a shortcut into the heart of an engineer,
it's to ask him what he actually does.  Most people just
don't care.  If by any chance, they ever actually asked an
engineer that question, they learned not to do it again.

I gave her the abbreviated run-down on how your phone call
gets from point-A to point-B, leaving out a lot of the
details.  She surprised me by asking some fairly acute
questions and I was still talking a mile-a-minute when her
father arrived an hour or so later.

The car was pretty much a lost cause that evening.  There
was no fuel getting to the engine and the battery soon
ground down to nothing.  He asked if they could leave the
car there overnight, and I said there was no problem.  I
gave each of them my business card and told them if there
was anything I could do; they should feel free to call me.
They left, and I suddenly felt very much alone.

Right after they left, we suffered a major glitch and had
to drop the entire station offline.  We lost commercial
power due to the storm.  The big diesel generator started
fine but died as soon as the transfer switch kicked over.
The wireman fussed with it for a while, but nothing seemed
to help.  The network operations center routed the traffic
around us, and for the rest of the shift we had even less
to do than usual.


I left the station at midnight and dug my pickup out of the
snow bank.  The plow hadn't shown up yet, so getting back
onto an actual roadway involved shifting the balky transfer
case into "4 low" and getting back into the wind to lock
the hubs.  The truck stayed in "4 low" for the duration of
the trip home. I finally slogged into my own driveway at a
little after 2:00 in the morning.

The house was quiet, but at least we had power.  The
furnace was chugging along, burning more of my future
earnings to keep Ann and the baby warm.  Ann was out cold,
and naturally, as soon as I stripped for bed, the baby
started crying.  I went to his crib and picked him up.  The
diaper was soaked.  I changed him and brought him back to
bed with me.  Ann rolled over to nurse him. I closed my
eyes and was asleep in moments.


The next thing I felt was that indescribable sensation of
warmth and moisture as a talented mouth works its way over
the head of your cock.  Hmmm. That's probably the best
alarm clock ever invented, and if you ever find yourself in
that situation, thank all the gods and your lucky stars for
blessing you.  Opening my eyes and looking down at my
crotch, I see my wife's brown hair, the smooth pale skin of
her back, and the twin globes of her buttocks as she kneels
across my legs to suckle my Johnson.

"Oh, yeah, baby.  That's it!" I mutter as the fog of sleep
dissipates.  I spread my legs to give her better access and
she stops long enough to say, "Good morning, love!"

Turning her body 180 degrees in a clockwise direction, she
positions her loins directly over my face.  I grab her
waist and raise my head to nuzzle her sex as she continues
to fellate me.  Her smell is gloriously musky and my tongue
traces a line from her clit down to her perineum.

"Oh, yes! Eat me!" She says as I continue to lick and probe
her honey pot.  Returning to the task at hand, she drives
her mouth down on my cock and, as the head passes into her
gullet, I feel the contraction of her throat muscles
tighten around me.  It's too much, I'm already cumming.

"Ahhh!  Yes, baby!"

Pulling back just a bit, she takes my load in her mouth.
Smiling, she pulls away from me and lets me see that she
took all but a little dribble that leaks from the right
corner of her smile.  Dramatically, she rolls her head and
swallows it all, finishing with a dramatic sigh.

"Now that's just what I wanted for breakfast, an all-
natural protein shake!"

Laughing, I reply, "Anytime, love. Now lie back down and
let me return the favor!"

"Oh, yeah!" is all she can say.

Fluffing a pillow behind her head, she lies back in the bed
and spreads her legs wide as I kneel before her.  Using one
hand to separate her labia, she says, "No teasing, I want
you to suck my clit!"

She didn't need to tell me twice, her clit was erect and
standing almost free of its sheath like a small penis. I
licked her once, between the lips and drew my tongue
upwards under the clitoral shaft.  She made a small gasp,
as my tongue passed over the head and I sucked her into my
mouth.  Holding her clit between my lips, I repeatedly
licked the head as she began panting and moaning.

"Don't stop!  Don't Stop!"

I had no intention of stopping.  Morning sex of any kind
was always good, and the blowjob was a fantastic way to say
"Good Morning!"  Her juices (and my saliva) were running
down my chin.  I was getting that ache in my jaw, but I
wanted to finish the job she started.

"Yes! Yes!  Yes!  YES! YEAH! YES! YES! Ahhhh! Eeeahhh!"

Both hands were now behind my head, grinding my face into
her crotch as she came.  My nose was flattened against her
pubis and my tongue extended its full length into her
pussy.  She had two handfuls of my hair and the muscle
spasms rippled across her belly as her orgasm ran its
course.  She pulled upwards on my head, and that was my
signal to stop tonguing her twat move up her body to kiss
her face.

Her eyes were closed and her hair was soaked with sweat as
I came up for air and began kissing her.  We tongue kissed
and I tasted my cum in her mouth - as she no doubt tasted
her own secretions on my tongue and face.

"Fuck me!" was all she said as we moved together into the
classic missionary position.  Her hand grasped my shaft and
guided me into her waiting pussy.

I had gotten very hard again, while eating her out, and
there was no question as to what we both wanted. I pressed
into her and bottomed out on the first stroke, causing her
to gasp and climax again as my glans struck her cervix. The
tight velvet walls of her vaginal canal clasped me as I
pulled back and again thrust forward into her.  She was
actually crying as I fucked her hard and fast.

I knew even then that I was very fortunate to have married
a girl that climaxed both quickly and easily.  The sex was
great; hot and frequent even when we were teens and worried
about getting caught, premature pregnancy, and all those
hang-ups that kids have when they first become sexual
beings. In our case, there was no doubt as to who we would
marry.  We started dating when she was 14 and I was 15.
Our lovemaking started on the third date and hadn't really
stopped or slowed down in the ten years we'd been together.
Not even her pregnancy or the birth of our son had sated
our lust for one another.

I was nearing my second climax, and felt the pressure
building up inside me.  "I'm almost there!" I groaned.

"Give it to me!" She commanded.

I let myself go, thrusting deep into her body.  She grabbed
my ass and held me tightly, preventing me from pulling out
even if I had wanted to.  My ejaculation was almost painful
as the prostate contracted violently and the spermatic
cords drew my testicles upwards into my groin.  Again and
again, I felt my semen spurting into her as the slippery
warmth spread into her body.

Wrapping her legs around me, she rolled us onto our side
facing one another, still locked in the carnal embrace of
our lovemaking.

"I'm not letting you go!"

"Why would I ever want to leave?"

Naturally, that's when the baby started crying.


Returning to work that afternoon, I wasn't surprised to see
that the pizza delivery car was still parked in the lot,
right next to the entrance.  The snowplows had done their
usual expert job at burying any vehicles left in the lot
and the ancient Bonneville was no exception. A slender
snow-suit clad figure was making considerable headway at
digging the car from its frosty tomb, and I correctly
surmised that the figure was our pizza delivery girl from
the previous night.

Her father had the hood up and was connecting jumper cables
to the battery.  In accordance with Murphy's Law, the
cables were too short to reach his pickup and there was no
way of getting the truck closer to the car with the deep
snow that the plows had packed all around the stricken
Pontiac.

"Hello Again," I greeted them.  "Still having car trouble?"

Her father was first to speak, "Yeah, fuel filter froze up
while she was parked.  I've got that part taken care of,
but the battery is too dead to crank the engine.
Naturally, the jumper cables don't reach."

"We have some spare batteries inside.  I'll bring one of
those out and you can start the car with that."

That was an understatement.  Much of the space inside the
station not dedicated to antique microwave gear or somewhat
newer switching equipment was filled with scores of deep-
cycle lead-acid batteries.  The batteries provided power to
the wireline telephone circuits and were charged by big
motor-generator sets that converted the AC commercial power
to the 48 volts DC that ran just about everything inside.
Four 12-volt batteries wired in series made up the
fundamental unit of our DC distribution system - these
replaced the older glass-jar Edison Batteries that were the
original equipment at the station. Thus, we had enough
spare batteries on hand to outfit a submarine.

Entering the station, I checked in with the wireman and
went to locate a battery that I could misappropriate.
Getting it out of the rack and onto a cart was somewhat
difficult, but wheeling the cart out into the snow was the
real chore.

After hooking up the battery, Jenny's father turned the
engine over and the big Pontiac fired right up.  While he
sat in the car and warmed up, I helped Jennifer finish
digging the car out of the packed snow.

All told, it took maybe 15 minutes of concerted effort. As
soon as the car was free, her dad emerged from the car and
announced he would drive it home.  Jennifer could take his
pickup to work.  Jenny thanked me again, and they both
left.


Once inside, I found the wireman was already taking a nap.
The generator had been repaired on first shift and
everything was back online.  I was supposed to load some
new software into the mainframe that managed the switching
system.  Great! After six years of higher education, I was
finally qualified to become a computer operator. Loading
the tape took around 15 seconds.  Running the installation
job took maybe 45 minutes.  After that, I just wished I
could sleep as well as the wireman.


It was nearly midnight, and quitting time, when an alarm
sounded - somebody was ringing the doorbell.  Unexpected
visitors are almost never good in these circumstances.  I
woke the wireman up, in case it was "suit" that was coming
to check up on us.  He made himself look busy while I
answered the door. Seeing Jenny and a HOT pizza was a
pleasant surprise.

"What brings you back to this little corner of Hell?" I
asked her.

"I just wanted to say thank you for your help today."

"No problem. Helping damsels in distress is what we're all
about in the Bell System!"

"Seriously, I also wanted to hear more about your job and
the switching station."

"Okay.  Why, may I ask, are you interested in such a
delightfully boring subject?"

"Just curious, I'm actually a computer science major when
I'm not delivering Pizza."

"Really, where do you go to school?"

"Over at Lakeland Community College.  It's not really what
I expected.  We spend all our time writing BASIC programs
to solve math problems.  I did all that stuff in elementary
school.  Next semester, we start doing COBOL for business
applications. I'm not sure there's much future in writing
accounts payable applications."

"Don't feel bad.  I went to engineering school so I could
load billing programs into phone company computers.  It's
all downhill from here!"

"Maybe, but I'm actually kind of interested in
telecommunications as a computer application.  Maybe you
could show me how all this stuff works."

"Nobody really knows how this stuff works.  It's all FM."

"FM?"

"Fucking Magic."

"Oh! I'm sure there's an explanation somewhere."

"Yes, it's called the Bell System Technical Journal.  A
publication that I'm sad to say is no longer a management
priority.  They also learned to keep a few things under
wraps after certain young computer enthusiasts started
hacking their way through the Bell System."

"You mean the PHREAKS."

"PHREAKS, Hackers, Crackers, and Silicon Pirates:  whatever
name the press decides to use this week.  I tend to group
them into different categories."

"Like what?"

"Well, personally, I don't care how much they STEAL from Ma
Bell.  I just don't like it when they cause extra work for
ME!"

She laughed.  It was a delightful sound.

"If I promise to make it worth your while, could you show
me around the system?"

"Is that a proposition?"

"Literally, yes it is.  But pizza is how I intend to pay
you."

"Can you throw in some coke?"

"Certainly!"

"Then we have a deal.  It's getting late though.  Third
shift will be coming in.  Can I buy you a cup of coffee to
seal the pact?"

"Not tonight, I have to get my dad's truck home."

"Okay.  When can I expect to see you again?"

"I work most evenings, but I can come in on Sunday and
Monday.  You work second every night?"

"Mostly Monday through Friday.  I come in on Saturday and
Sunday when there's a network problem, but that's nothing
you can count on."

"Then Monday it is.  Will you get in any trouble if I come
up here?"

"Probably not.  Just feed the wireman.  He sleeps most of
the time."

"Well, goodnight then.  I'll see you on Monday."
"I'm looking forward to it!" I answered honestly.


Honestly, I was excited at the prospect of having somebody
to talk to while I "worked." Jenny was certainly cute, but
it really didn't occur to me that part of the attraction
was sexual.  I looked forward to Monday night with nothing
more than some pleasant company and intelligent
conversation in mind. Honest.  Even if I did have conscious
thoughts about sex with the luscious brunette, I suppressed
them, after all a geek like me has very little chance of
scoring with a young college babe; even if she too is a
geek at heart.


The drive home that night wasn't half as bad as the night
before.  When I crawled into bed, Ann was awake, baby at
her breast.

"How was work tonight?"

"Oh, just the usual stuff.  Frank slept when he wasn't
bitching about everything the company does.  Jennifer got
her car running..."

"Jennifer who?"

"The pizza delivery girl.  Her car broke down last night
when she was delivering a pizza.  Her dad came over tonight
and repaired it."

"Why do you always eat trash like that?   I can pack you a
lunch or you can order some real food."

"Pizza and coke is what engineers eat at work."

"You don't EAT coke, you DRINK coke!"

"How 'bout I just EAT you instead?"

"Promises, promises! Let me put the baby to bed and I'll
just take you up on that!"

"Hmmmm... Maybe the kid has the right idea."

"What?"

Instead of answering, a pushed her robe aside and latched
onto her right nipple with my mouth.  I sucked hard and
drew her nipple in between my teeth and clamped down
gently. Still sucking at her breast, I licked the nipple
and was rewarded with a warm trickle of milk.

"Oh, you bad daddy!  That's meant to feed your son!"

"He doesn't seem to mind sharing."

"He's asleep!  And if you'll let me put him to bed, I'll
take care of your needs in due time!"

Reluctantly, I let go of her nipple.  She gently disengaged
Michael's mouth from her other breast and replaced in with
a pacifier. Rising from the bed, she was gone just a few
short moments. I was stripping for bed when the lights went
out and I saw her in silhouette.  She let the robe fall
from her shoulders as she closed the door behind her.

"You're a bad daddy!"

"Why am I a bad daddy?"

"Stealing milk from your only son!"

"I told you, he doesn't seem to mind sharing."

"That's not all.  You're bad to your little girl!"

"How am I bad to my little girl?"

"You touch her and fondle her and make her suck your
thingie. Then you put your thingie between her legs and
shove it inside her body.  Sometimes you squirt your pee
pee juice in her mouth!"

"Oh, doesn't my little girl like these things?"

"Ummm..."

"Come here little girl.  Tell the truth.  Doesn't my little
girl like to do these things?"

"Well..."

"Don't tell me lies, or I'll have to punish you!"
"How would you punish me Daddy?"

"Maybe I would smack you on the bottom, little girl, or
maybe I would just eat you all up!"

"Oh, don't spank me Daddy!"

"Then you leave me with no alternative, I'll just have to
eat you all up!"

"Oh, yes, Daddy!"

By this time, Ann was leaning over the bed and I kissed her
hard, forcing my tongue between her lips and into her
mouth.  We swapped tongues back and forth for a few minutes
as I tweaked her erect nipples with my fingers.  Finally I
broke our kiss and bent to take a nipple in my mouth.
Sucking hard as I licked her rock-hard nubbin, I reached
down and played with her pussy while stroking her back with
the other hand.

There was very little delay before "let down" occurred,
since Ann had just been feeding our son, and the trickle of
warm mother's milk became a torrent.  I suckled for a few
moments, taking my fill, but stopped well short of denying
my son his rightful meal, if such a thing is even possible.

Moving lower, I smelled her musk and virtually dove into
her pussy, lapping another of her secretions into my mouth
as I marveled at her taste.  As always, Ann was quickly
responding to my efforts and she became more vocal, while
still staying in character as the little girl of this very
bad daddy.

"Oh, Daddy!  Eat your little girls pussy!  Lick her clit
and make her cum!"

"Mmmmph!" Was all I could manage, with my lingual apparatus
otherwise occupied."

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!"

I have a bad habit of thinking when I should probably just
leave everything to instinct.  It's funny to read the corny
dialogue I just wrote, but what's even funnier is that it's
a fairly accurate record of what we actually said to one
another.  The thought that struck me funny right then was
exactly that:  "We gotta come up with something better to
say during sex."

Whatever the exact mechanism, giggling with your mouth full
of pussy changes the character of the stimulation you're
providing.  In this instance the staccato rhythm of my
laugh in her crotch is what sent her over the edge.  My
baby climaxed right then and the pressure of her thighs
clamping down on my head was downright painful.  As I
pulled back in reflex, one of her hands shot down to
massage her clit as she rode out the tidal wave of
sensation she was experiencing.

I took the time out to watch my beautiful wife masturbate
and prolong the orgasm that I'd started.  After a few
minutes of moaning, writhing, and finger-fucking herself
the trance began to wane and she looked over at me and
smiled.

"Sorry if I left you out there at the end."

"Don't be.  I started it.  As a bonus, I got to watch you
cum.  My view isn't always that good!"

"Come here, sweetheart!"

She pulled me towards her.  Expecting a kiss, I was
surprised when she began licking her own juices off my
face.

"I love the taste of pussy.  I guess I must be part
lesbian."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Part lesbian?"

"Which part?"

"I dunno."

"I don't know either.  I had a girlfriend before I met you.
We masturbated, but I never went down on her.  You were the
first, and only, person that ever ate me out."

"Good to know.  That's something else we have in common."

"What?"

"I love the taste of your pussy too!"

"Oh, you are a BAD daddy!"

"Yes I am, and now it's time for more punishment!"

Flipping her over on her stomach, I mounted her doggie
style and slowly fucked her as her juices coated my prick.
Pulling my cock out of her, I inserted two fingers that
quickly became slick with her secretions and my own pre-
cum.  Moving to her ass, I slicked her crack with my
fingers and inserted first one, then the other into her
rectum - stretching and probing as she moaned beneath me.

"Oh yes, finger my ass, Daddy!"

"You're gonna get more than my finger, baby!"

"Oh no, Daddy!  Your thingie is too big for my little ass!"

"Big or little, I'm going to fuck your ass and you're going
to like it!"

Now, play acting is one thing, but I think I mentioned how
I don't like causing anybody any real pain or physical
harm.  Anal sex was something we enjoyed on occasion, but
only with what some would consider excessive lubrication
and preparation.  That's why we kept both the KY jelly and
Anal-Ease in the top drawer of the bedside table.

I squirted a generous dollop of KY on my fingers and
continued to finger-fuck her ass while our role-playing
continued.

"Someday, I'm going to fuck a little baby into my little
girl's pussy and then she'll gratefully take my cock in her
ass since it won't make her pregnant!"

"Oh Daddy!  Make me a mommy! I love having little babies!"

"Not tonight, little girl.  Tonight I fuck your bottom."

"Ok..kkkay daddy, I think I'm ready."
Switching bottles, I lubed my dick up with the Anal-Ease
and moved into position over Ann's tight little back door.
Pushing forward, I felt her sphincter give just as the
tingling sensation let me know the Anal-Ease was working.
A second barrier blocked my progress and I felt her bear
down to help me enter.  A moment's hesitation and I sank
several inches into her tight bunghole.  Finally I was
fully inside her and I stopped to let her adjust to my
girth.

"Oh, I feel so full!"

"You're so, tight back here, it feels wonderful!"

"Slow and gently, baby.  Keep it slow and gentle."

Mindful of her comfort, I began a slow and gentle series of
thrusts and withdrawals, feeling the exquisite pressure on
the underside of my cock as it slid in and out of her
rectum.  Reaching around her, I found her mons and began
fondling her in a circular motion, running my fingers
between her labia while keeping my movements slow and
gentle. Soon, she was matching my thrusts and pushing back
against me to get more inside her.  She changed the angle
of her body, raising up onto her elbows, and finally
becoming fully upright on her hands and knees as the
tension built.  My thrusting became more urgent as I sought
release and she answered my passion with some of her own.

"Fuck me, Daddy!"

"Yeah, baby.  I'm about to fill your bottom with my sperm!"

"Oh yes, Daddy.  Fill me up!"

The dialogue and the role-playing certainly helped, I was
imagining what it would be like to sodomize my own (non-
existent) daughter and some naughty part of my psyche was
really enjoying the fantasy.

"Oh, Daddy!  Go faster.  Oh, I feel so full!  Fill me with
your sperm!"

Once again it happened; I climaxed so hard that I nearly
blacked out.  I grabbed my wife's pelvis and thrust
forward, driving my cock into her rectum as far as possible
as I shot rope after rope of my seed into her body.
"God, that was good!" was all I could say when we finished.

"Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for filling me up with your
sperm."

"You're welcome, precious. I love you so much!"

Cuddling up next to her, I fell sound asleep in no time. It
was a fantastic end to a fantastic day.


To Be Continued...

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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