Girls.
That was the only solution that would keep my parents together, me going away for awhile, to see how they'd get along on their own. It was either that or divorce, which I don't think any of us wanted.
We'd been a very happy family, it seemed, and we all three hoped we could one day return to exactly that: happiness together.
We'd see, I guess.
CHAPTER 3
Any time my father screwed me in my asshole, usually with me on my knees, it always took a lot of gentle effort. To say nothing of plenty of the peach or mango or pomegranate-flavored lubrication we used. It was just that his cock was so big-my small fingers couldn't even go all the way around the thickest part-and my tight young butthole was so little.
But it was definitely worth it, anal sex, for both of us.
“Daddy, this feels so dirty,” I'd moaned to him, that very first time.
“I can't believe it,” he'd breathed. “The head of my dick slid right in!”
It sure had.
And I'd definitely felt it wetly slip into me, widely opening my backdoor, as he'd called it. This was only about two months after we'd gotten used to regular fucking, the two of us sneaking around to do it every chance we could. So I was still only a sweet little 9-year-old schoolgirl.
But I'll admit I'd already developed into the most sexually eager 3rd-grader imaginable.
With the warm head of his dick already in me, my mouth was dry and I'd been swallowing repeatedly, my breathing ragged, following his instructions to relax my slick little butt-muscles. We were on the basement couch, me kneeling on it, naked, hanging onto the back of it with both hands. He was standing right behind me.
My mother was at work and my dad had driven home for lunch. To spend time alone with me, I knew.
“Your little asshole's throbbing like crazy!” he added.
I couldn't stop trembling, my knees buried in the couch and my skinny legs so shaky I was afraid I'd simply collapse into a little-girl puddle. Of course, the fact that I'd already had two orgasms and was on the verge of still another one had a lot to do with the shakiness.
That and the unbelievable sensations coursing through my quivering clit due to my brand new vibrator.
Ten minutes earlier, when my father first pressed the fleshy tip of his hard cock against my asshole, I'd been surprised but groaned and worked by bare ass back at him, wanting it inside of me. I'd had his finger up there before, sometimes while we screwed, and I knew how good it could feel. So I wanted him in either hole, my slippery pussy or my butt, just so I could go ahead and come.
He'd been fucking me doggy-style moments before, so I was lubricated like crazy and only about two seconds away from an orgasm.
And I didn't want him to stop. Or even to slow down.
“Daddy!” I gasped. “I'm ready to come!”
But he'd pulled his stiff dick out of my pussy, slick with my juices, and pressed it against my hot anus. Not going in yet but just holding it there.
“Let's try it in your butt, Emily,” he suggested. “We'll go real slow.”
I felt a sudden sick thrill at the idea, his dick going into my little asshole, not certain at that young age if it was something all girls did or just the bad ones. And that was also the first time he brought out a plastic tube of lubrication, the mango one. He set it aside on the couch.
“We'll use this,” he told me. “It's real slippery and it's flavored.”
I tried looking back over my shoulder at him.
“It's flavored, Daddy? Why?”
He gave me a little shrug.
“I'm going to lick your asshole,” he informed me, and gave one small cheek of my bare little butt a quick squeeze. “And stick my tongue in it, to relax you so my dick will go in easier.”
I have to admit, that sounded weird. But I was willing. I always was.
He'd been licking and sucking my pussy almost every time we had sex, and sticking his finger up my butt whenever I came (as an added little jolt of pleasure), so I just smiled back at him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
At the same time, though, the perverted thought of my own father licking my butthole, and sticking his tongue in it, seemed like such a filthy idea, it got me even more aroused than usual. My already rapid breath from our recent doggy-style fucking quickened even more, my heartbeat kicking up another notch.
And I was thinking that only really dirty girls, genuinely bad girls, would even consider doing such an indecent thing.
“Do you and mom do this, too?”
He merely laughed at that.
“Are you serious?” he asked. “Sweetheart, your mother won't let me within a mile of her asshole!”
That figured.
Even blowjobs were off-limits for her, I'd learned, except for once a year on their anniversary. And even then, she refused to let him come in her mouth, which I didn't understand. I always let him come in my mouth.
In fact, I loved it, his throbbing geyser of cum almost too much to swallow as it warmly filled my mouth and spurted down my throat. And sometimes, if I jacked him off with my mouth wide open so he could watch it going in, ropy strands of it got on my face and in my hair, the overflow running down my chin more often than not.
Which excited both of us.
“Wait right here, Emily,” he said suddenly, backing away and leaving me kneeling naked on the couch. And he went to get something. “Don't move.”
“Daddy, I want to come!” I called after him, a little crossly. Our sex had come to a dead stop and I knew he had to get back to work soon. “Do it with your fingers for me, then. Please…”
I was always so polite.
And I meant for him to just quickly masturbate me so I could finally come. I'd have done it myself, but it was always a better orgasm for me when fingers other than my own manipulated my slick little clitoris. Especially my dad's fingers. He always made me come really good.
But he surprised me again.
“Sweetheart, I bought you a present.”
And he showed me what I later learned was a butterfly vibrator. With a small remote control. It was a tiny flat vibrator, shaped like a little blue butterfly, so that (when worn) the butterfly's body fit directly over my sweet young clit. And, for added fun, the small wings fit snugly against the overly-sensitive lips of my pussy, up near the top.
Also, as a back-up to the remote control (if you somehow lost it, I guess), it also had a tiny on-off switch in the center of it.
“Let me put it on you,” my father said. “Stand up and turn around. But we need to keep it hidden down here in the basement. Your mother would go absolutely nuts if she found it.”
“I'll bet.”
Although I wasn't exactly sure what it even was.
I was studying it as he helped fit the stretchy lightweight harness to me, the small ribbon-sized straps going around my narrow bare hips and then under and around my skinny upper thighs. He used the tiny adjustment buckles to make it nice and tight, the effect entirely unnoticeable, he informed me, if worn inside my underpants.
“But what does it do?” I wanted to know. That's how naive I was at that age. “Will I be wearing it to school? Like, under my panties?”
He laughed at that.
