Chapter 1 - It begins with love
#1 of Shades of Normal
A thick fingered paw worked furiously along his shaft as he lay on his back in bed, working the slick muscle in and out of his fist. He was breathing roughly, erratic and staring at the ceiling as his mind played out the images that heated his fantasy. The large black cat on his back was Lawrence Hoarsly, but everyone called him Larry. Husband, father, hard-worker, quiet, even-tempered and gentle man....with a dark, dark secret. His secret was the fuel of his arousal tonight, and every night before it, and probably ever night after it.
The secret? Larry had become increasingly attracted to his four-year old daughter, Amelia. She was a beautiful kit, solid white with pale blue eyes, the kind of eyes that melted her Daddy's heart and got her anything she wanted - including unwanted and perverse attention. But he imagined she was oblivious to his lustful fantasies that involved her every night while he lay in bed, he didn't imagine she knew what lust was, muchless sex, at least he hoped not. Not his darling kitten. She had the softest fur, didn't she? And she was a pale pink in all the right places, between those darling little thighs of fluffy white fur, and two pink tips peeked out from her chest, swollen little puffs of nipples to be. Larry grunted loudly, his spine stiffened and his tail curled and stroked his thigh as his red-hot cock erupted in his fist and splattered the fur of his belly. Ah, finally, sweet release...now he could sleep without interruption of such sinful and immoral thoughts.
Rena returned home from the nightshift early the next morning, in the hallway she paced the racing little kit so full of energy, excited about school as she always was. From the bathroom she heard the buzz of her husband's electric razor as he readied himself for work. This was their routine schedule. She came home every morning, gave her husband and daughter both a goodmorning kiss in passing, took her shower and went to sleep. She was awake in time to greet her daughter at the bus stop, put dinner on the table and then she was on her way out the door as her husband was coming in. That's how it went just about every day of the week, it worked pretty smoothly for the Hoarsly family and no one had any complaints.
Today was no different than any other. Rena stood in the bathroom after seeing Amelia and Larry off, she stared at herself in the fogged mirror and grimaced at the reflection there. She wasn't so young anymore, her next birthday would make her thirty-five and it showed in her tired, work-worn features. Her fur wasn't such a brilliant honey-brown anymore, her eyes has lost that luster and shine, and she swore that her feline ears drooped, almost sagged as much as her size-C breasts. Where had the time gone? Amelia, although only four seemed like a whirlwind, it seemed like only yesterday she was a tiny kitten sapping all of her mother's attention and energy. She was lucky to have married a man younger than herself, Larry was only turning twenty-seven, he was still able to keep up with their daughter and their hectic schedules in a way she could not do any longer.
"Oh, get over yourself, Rena. You scored a handsome man, have the most adorable daughter and the perfect family. Stop complaining." Still, she longed for a vacation, some time for just Larry and herself...it had been so long since they'd last been intimate. It wasn't for lack of want, it was simply for lack of time, lack of being in the same place long enough to complete the act. She worried that their difference in age and this lifestyle would ruin their marriage and happy family, worried that Larry would stray eventually. And why not? He was young, handsome and full of sexual-driven energy. She almost expected him to.
"Stop it." She murmured to the mirror and then turned away to shower. Time spent talking to herself and degrading herself in front of the mirror was time wasted that she could have been collecting that much-needed rest her body complained about all night long at the factory.
"Amelia has a macaroni art project to do before bedtime, so make sure she comes in from play early enough to get it done and still have her bath." She gave Larry a knowing look and leaned over his chair at the dinner table to brush a tender kiss to his whiskered jaw. "I mean it Larry, don't let her pull that 'Daddy please' game on you, she needs a bath or they'll send her home for looking like a hooligan and smelling like one too." Her chuckle was light, as was her tone, but she was already moving for the door to gather her bag and coat, turning to blow him a kiss. "Tell the kit I love her and that Mommy says goodnight. I'll see you both in the morning." Her gaze lingered on him as he only half-listened while eating and catching a race on the television. Why did she bother sometimes? She felt like a stranger in her own home around those two...thick as thieves they were.
He'd heard every word she said, even if he didn't let on. The truth was that he had a hard time concentrating fully on anything these days...his thoughts were increasingly coming back to his beautiful little daughter. At work he found himself thinking of her bright smile, those shining eyes full of love for him, the way she idolized him, adored him and he was her big, tough hero in a way he could never be to anyone else. Her love for him was unconditional and it made his heart ache, always had - the problem was that in the past months it made another part of his body ache, one that he tried so desperately to ignore.
He sat at the table long after he had finished eating, staring blankly at the television, he didn't know who was winning the race, he only had it on so he could pretend to watch it. His thoughts were on questions like: What's wrong with me? Am I a monster? Why do I have these perverse thoughts? Please, God, help me. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop lusting for his baby girl, his kit, the same one he had nurtured since birth and would kill anyone who harmed her. And yet, here he was, wanting to harm her, to scar her for life with his sexual perversions and uncontrolled lust. Why? WHY?
It had all started about six months ago, she was only three and a half, but she was bright kit, she had mastered walking, talking and potty-training so easily. She was going to be a beautiful and smart young lady one day, just like her mother had been when he met her. The fantasies had started six months ago when Amelia, purely innocently, had misdirected one of her father-daughter kisses. It was meant to be the same as the hundreds of others, he swooped down on her, tickled her and planted a loving kiss on her nose - but that time was different, she tipped her head back too far and he had ended up kissing her soft, sweet little lips. It was innocent and lasted only a couple of seconds, to some it was perfectly normal for a father to kiss his daughter on the mouth, and that's all it had to be...but that simple exchange ignited something curious in Larry and he wouldn't know what until later.
Later came in the form of his daughter bounding down the stairs as she usually did, jumping from about four steps up and into the arms of her father. Again, an innocent gesture and one that had never carried with it anything but playful antics they both enjoyed, but this time she had jumped short and he had barely caught her and caught her low at that, so that her little legs wrapped about his waist and her panty-clad crotch landed against the bulge of his own jean-covered crotch. That curious tickle in the back of his mind was awakened once more as he had held his daughter there for a moment until she wiggled free of his grasp and flew about the house on pure, sugar-driven energy. Of course, he had shrugged it off but the fact that his sheath had swollen with the fullness of his cock could not be ignored this time.
Larry had tried to seperate himself from his daughter slowly from that day forward, tried to calm the antics they had always participated in. No more tickling or wrestling, no more sitting on his shoulders with her little kitten-pussy against his neck, no more cradling her in his arms while she sucked on his finger like a nipple and fell asleep...a habit she had yet to break. No matter how hard he tried though, her young innocence was no match for his growing arousal. He found himself watching her while she was engrossed in teletubbies, little legs kicking back and forth while she lay on her belly in front of the TV, skirt kicked up about her thighs just enough that he found himself focusing extremely hard as if to 'will' her clothing to lift a little higher so he could peek her pink panties. And when she would plop into his lap, a tiny bundle of furry love for her Daddy, he caught himself shifting so that the bulge of his cock rested in that soft crevice of her plush little cheeks, her thin jammies doing nothing to seperate his raging need and her innocent little body.
This was the kind of insane curiousity and arousal he had been dealing with for weeks. Combined with the fact that he was alone with her so often and his wife had not been intimate with him for almost a year...it was enough to drive any male crazy. But what kind of creature would take this path? The path of lusting after his perfect angel of a four-year old kit. As he sat at that dinner table that night, listening to Amelia playing with the neighbor's dog in the back yard, he knew his mind had breached a barrier, a point of no return, even if his body had yet to cross it. It was only a matter of time. He was sick, they should lock him up, he was the kind of person that should have to report to an agency when he moved into a town so that mothers could lock their daughters up.
"Bastard." He growled at himself, his ears flattened back on his head as he stood and gathered up the dishes and called out to Amelia to come in and do her homework. Dishes, laundry, homework and bath time...the time he dreaded most, the time that tested his will power most.
Amelia was the happiest of little girls, bright fluffy curls of white fur, big round blue eyes that shimmered and shined, so petite and fragile, she really was a princess of a kitten. And she loved her Daddy more than any little girl in the world. He was big and scary to most children, solid black as he was with those piercing dark eyes...but to her he was a hero, he rescued her from bed-time monsters, played with her when no one else would and would never let anyone hurt her. He could do no wrong in her eyes and she loved him, maybe even more than Mommy.
It was bath time again, she was a kit that didn't exactly enjoy it but because Daddy insisted she performed the ritual anyway. Because of course she wanted to be the best little girl for Daddy. She padded into the large bathroom and over to the tub where her Daddy had already started the water and added the bubbles like she wanted. She loved bubbles most of all. She grinned and leaned over the edge of the tub, resting her elbows on the edge as she leaned over to scoop some of them up and blow them about with a soft giggle. She was enjoying herself so much that she hadn't heard him enter behind her and was oblivious, thankfully, to that look he was giving her.
He had entered a couple of minutes behind her, a fresh cloth and towel in hand, he had just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, get her in bed and out of sight. He could get into his own room, look up some porn on the internet and masturbate until he was too tired to think of anything else, especially Amelia. But there she was, her tiny little barely three-foot form bent over the edge of the tub in a way that left her rainbow-colored skirt up around her backside, her white panties exposed and creased into her backside in that uncaring way a child has about it. She didn't need to look sexy, she didn't even know what sexy was - so why would she care that she had half a furred-cheek hanging out of her panties? He stopped in his tracks and just stared at her, groaned inwardly and fought back those nasty thoughts in his mind. He wanted nothing more than to drop those towels, drop down behind her and pull her panties to the side so that he could rub his cocktip between those thinly furred and puffy-pink cuntlips he knew she had. He tried to justify his urges to himself even, to that rational thinking side of his brain 'oh come on, it wouldn't hurt her, just rub yourself off on her cunt, no penetration, nothing to harm her, just a few minutes and you'd be done and bath time could resume' ...NO! No!
"Daddy!" She squealed with a giggle, her arms stuck up around her head as she tried to pull her shirt off and got stuck with it half way on and half way off, with her head still stuck inside. He hadn't even noticed when she had moved, or when she had started undressing, but she had her skirt off and was working on her shirt when she yelled for his help. He quickly shook away his thoughts and chuckled at her predicament. "My my, what in the world is that? Is it a girl stuck in a shirt, or a shirt trying to eat my little girl whole?" He grinned at her as he pulled the shirt off over her head and kissed the top of it. "Come on, get in, let's make this easy tonight, okay, babygirl?" Without thinking he reached down and let his heavy paw swat her behind...any other time it would have been a signal to hurry her along lovingly, but now he scolded himself for just attempting to touch her backside again. Pervert.
"Aww...." She puckered up her lips into a pout but she knew the rules, and Daddy was rule number one. So, she shimmied out of her panties and her graceful little tail popped free to sway behind her. She really was beautiful, like a crystal figurine someone should keep locked away safely in a glass case, look, but do not touch. He was reminding himself that every second as she lifted a leg into the tub, sat down and straddled the edge of the tub for a split second and then scooted on in with a plop and splash, and of course a giggle. But it was that split second he was still stuck in, when her little legs had been spread so wide and he caught a glimpse of her nearly-furless pussy, so young the lips were still puffed into a soft mound of pink. He wondered if her clit was even fully formed and functional yet, he had never seen a young cunt like that, and the times he had seen her's it wasn't like he was investigating it.
Just don't think about it, don't focus on it, the task at hand, the task at hand. He kept repeating things like that in his head, over and over in an attempt to block out anything else that might try to barge in. Especially since the hard part was still to come - he still had to wash her. She was so sweet and smiled with such affection at him as she noticed him soaping up the cloth, that was her cue to stop playing with the bubbles and stand up; so she did. If it was hard for him to see her unclothed, it was even harder when she was dripping wet, with all of her white fur sticking to her lightly pinked body, her puffy little nipples protruded quite a bit when she was wet, there was no breast tissue there yet, just two little pink lumps that were her nipples. He didn't even know if they'd get hard with the proper attention. He just lathered up her arms one at a time and avoided looking down at her crotch or bottom as she turned and let him see to her limbs and body. He'd done this a thousand times at least, and before it had been so easy...scrub, joke, tickle, play, rinse, dry and toss her in bed with a goodnight story and a kiss. But now he found himself struggling to bring his hand down between her thighs to wash her pubic area, he couldn't do it...he was afraid his fingers might slip under the control of the dark side of his mind, he might pry those little cuntlips apart and slide his soapy digits into her body. Would he? Would he really hurt his baby girl like that? The kit from his own loins, he would ravage her tiny little body like that? No!
"Daddy! You forgot my nanu!" She giggled and took the cloth from him and washed her little pussy with a few good scrubs of the soapy cloth and then she washed her backside as well and looked to him expectantly to rinse her off. Thank god, he didn't know how he was going to do this every night for the rest of his life...or at least until she was old enough to do it herself. Hopefully she would be just as bright and advanced in the maturing phase of her life as well. He rinsed her fur clean of the soap, lifted her free of the tub in a fluffy towel, ruffled and wrestled her wiggly body dry and then carried her to her bedroom and plopped her with a giggle on her bed.
"You want stars or hearts?" He held up the little panties for her to decide, privately he hoped she picked hearts. "Hearts!" She grinned at him and had already stood up to bounce on her bed even though she knew she wasn't supposed to, but Daddy never got mad at her. "Care bears or ponies?" This time he was holding up two sleeping shirts while she pretended to think really hard on it, cute as a button and so serious about the choices she was faced with. "Hmm." She tapped her chin and then pointed towards the shirt with ponies on it. "Ponies!" Then she started bouncing again and went into a sing-song rendition of My Little Ponies. He couldn't help chuckling as he approached the bed, scooped her legs out from under her which made her land with a plop on the bed - a mistake, since she landed sprawled and simply stuck her legs out into the air for him to put her panties on. God, if he didn't know any better he would think she was teasing him, the little vixen. Wait, when had he started thinking of his daughter in vixen terms? What had happened to sweet, innocent, princess?
He pulled her panties on over her legs quickly and brought them just up to the curve of her bottom and then left them for her to finish pulling up - he was already quickly yanking her up to throw the shirt on over her head and get her clothed so his mind could no longer wander over her naked body. After she was dressed he managed to wrangle her under the sheets and blankets and smiled down at her, kissed her forehead again and leaned down for the loving wrap of her arms about his strong neck. "I love you, Daddy." She murmured sweetly against his cheek and kissed it, and his heart swelled with pride, as did his cock, and he stammered softly. "I love you, Ame..go to sleep, babygirl." He kissed the top of her head again, tucked her in neatly and flipped on her nightlight as he turned out the light and closed her door to a crack.
In the hallway he leaned against the wall, panting softly and looked down at the throbbing bulge in his pants. What was wrong with him? What had happened, what kind of sick and cruel joke was this? Why did he suddenly have this uncontrollable urge and perverted curiousity for his own daughter?! He groaned, waited until he heard her murmuring her goodnights to her stuffed animals and then shoved away from the wall and stalked down the hall to his bedroom and shut the door, he locked it too...it was going to be a long night of downloaded porno and masturbating. He wasn't sure how many times he would have to waste his load in his hand, in a cloth or on his chest...but however long and however many times it took, he would do it. He had to, for Amelia's sake.
Larry woke with a start, his fur was matted with sweat and he was panting, the sheets made a tent at his crotch and he knew why...he knew why his cock was hard and pulsing again. He had been dreaming, dreaming about his baby girl Amelia. She was the star of all of his sick and twisted dreams lately, she plagued him even while he slept...it was as if she was a witch and she had control over his mind and body. She had put a hex on him, she was going to be the death of him if not the damnation of his eternal soul. He sat up in the bed, grunted at the pain of his stiff prick and tight balls and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedstand. Three a.m. It was another three hours before Rena was home, and even then he couldn't be sure they'd have time or she'd have the desire for a quickie in the bathroom between showers - and who knew if Amelia would leave them uninterrupted for that long.
God, help me. How many times had he brought himself off before going to bed? Three? Four? He'd lost count, he thought for sure he had worn himself out, but here he was, wide-awake and aching for something....for some kind of release. Amelia. He knew she was that release, he knew it as sure as he hated to admit that he was sickly in lust with his four-year old kit. He didn't know that he had been without intimacy for so long that in his mind he was subconciously twisting and perverting his daughter's undying love for him into a perverse lust. In his mind he had made her into this siren, her innocent antics were no more than seductive ploys to drive him crazy with lust. When she said 'I love you, Daddy' he knew she was really saying that she wanted him, she needed him as badly as he needed her. She was seducing him with her soft little body, she wanted this as much as he did.
That's what he was telling himself as he slipped from the bed against his own will and slid into his boxer shorts. He opened his bedroom door, peered into the hallway as if he expected the police force to be there, and then he moved as quietly as his 5'11 frame could move and came to her doorway, painted in pastel flowers and crayon scribbles. Don't go in, he was chiding himself, trying to will his feet to turn him about and lock himself away in his own room until his wife came home. But Amelia sleeps like a log, what would it hurt to just go in and look at her? Maybe if he just saw her asleep like an angel it might soften his cock and he could sleep. He knew he was lying to himself, but that didn't stop him from pushing her door open with a soft creak and stepping into her dimly lit room. There she was, just as he suspected she would be, his little angel sprawled out on the bed, blankets and sheets strewn about as she had wrestled with them in her sleep.
He moved carefully to the end of her bed and stared up at her sleeping form. She was suckling her thumb, and from this angle he could see straight up to her little pantied crotch, with her legs sprawled out and bent at the knee. She had slept in much the same way on his chest when she was a kitten, arms and legs every which way, head on his chest near his heart, lulled to sleep and safe with her Daddy. And now, here he was, leering at her crotch, imagining what it would look like in that same position without her panties barring his view. Just look, that's all, he reminded himself quietly. But already he was moving to the edge of her bed, crawling up onto it quietly, and slowly so that the shifting weight of the bed did not disturb her peaceful slumber. He caught sight of one of her tiny padded foot-paws, he smiled and without thinking he reached out to touch it, to stroke her chubby little toes which brought a reflexive wiggle and tired murmur from her lips - but still she slept. His eyes followed the ling of her slender legs, the fur was thin on the insides of her thighs, and he imagined it would be so silky soft and warm there. He wanted to bury his face there, tickle her with his whiskers and listen to her giggle and squirm.
His weight shifted as he moved a little at a time until he was almost crouching over her in a half-crawl, half-crouch position. He stared down at his little darling, Amelia, and watched her sleep for a moment, but the only thing he could think about was his heavy cock jutting thickly from his boxer-shorts, and when he glanced down between their bodies he could see it pointing lewdly for his babygirl's panty-clad bottom. God, no! He pulled back and kneeled on his haunches, attempted to shove his cock back into his shorts but only ended up with his fist around his slick, red girth, stroking while he stared at her crotch. He wanted to sniff her panties, he wanted to know what his little girl smelled like. Fresh and clean, he thought. Like a spring flower. His fist squeezed harder on his shaft and he nestled his fat, furry balls between his thighs so he could flex his thigh-muscles and squeeze his balls at the same time. He wasn't aware of what he was doing at the time, but as he jerked his cock he saw his own paw reaching out to lift her sleeping shirt from her bottom and push it up around her ribs, he had a full view of her bottom then, as she slept soundly on her belly and sucked on her thumb, making the sweetest sounds that sent a thrill through his dick.
He had only meant to look at her, maybe stroke his cock until he came in his paw and then leave her room and return to his own, to sleep, in shame and guilt until his wife came home - and then maybe he would admit his sins to her and she could have him arrested where he would suffer a proper criminal existance in prison forever for what he did to his babygirl. But his mind was in overdrive now, he was actually in her bedroom, on her bed, he had his cock in his hand and he was staring at her little bottom, imagining rubbing his prick between those soft cheeks, stroking himself off between them. That's all, no penetration - that same mantra from earlier. What was this sick obsession he had? And why did he keep trying to justify it? He was too far gone...too brave for his own good, he felt powerful and that surge of superiority, that proud courage, the leap into the taboo, the dark and depraved, it made him feel powerful and invincible. He could do anything right now and not even blink at the consequences.
The same paw that had lifted her shirt was now resting on her backside lightly, he was rubbing her bottom in time to the stroking of his cock with his other paw. His fingerpads traced the elastic band of her panties and only briefly did his eyes flicker to her face to make sure she was still asleep. She was, she slept like the dead, always had. He was still riding that surge of power when his finger continued the path of elastic around the leg-hole that held snug to her thigh, he was telling himself to stop this madness even as his claw caught the edge of the elastic, dipped under and pulled it away from her inner thigh, from that cute spot where thigh met bottom and indented in a cute wrinkle. He wanted to splooge in that wrinkle then and there, leave her thigh and bottom sticky with his cum, mark his little kit with her Daddy's seed, the same seed that made her. But his claw continued lightly pulling away the crotch of her panties, pulling to the side until her furless little slit was naked and bare to his penetrating gaze.
God, she was perfect, her little cunt was so perfect...it was like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, how many men had this? He had it, right here all along, this angel of sin and lust, just waiting for him to notice her. A growl rumbled up in his throat and he beat his cock harder, jostling her bed a little as he started at her hairless slit and the puffy lips that framed it. His gaze moved a little higher and he could see the tiny pucker of her anus peering at him from beneath those two perfect, plump cheeks and that cute little tail that she kept curled tightly against her body. How he wanted that tail wrapped around his cock, jerking him with it's silky softness. He shifted again, leaving his kneeling position to lay on his side, that way he was closer to her cunt and could still stroke his cock. He had manuevered himself between her legs, even went so far as to spread them a little further while she slept, and now he lay there with his face so close to her crotch, his claw holding her panties aside again so he could stare at her little pussy and jerk himself off.
But that wasn't enough, it was never enough. He let his knuckle brush over those soft folds, he had to touch, he couldn't go away from her tonight without touching, not when he was this far into his sadistic treat. He leaned in closer, peered at that thin slit, wondered at pulling her cuntlips apart and finding the answer to his earlier curiousity - did she have a clit? And did it bring her pleasure? For now he was satisfied to stare at her opening, the hole which one day he hoped a husband would use and bring him grandchildren, it was so tiny and such a coral pink, he couldn't imagine how anything, not even a smallest digit could fit in there. He stared anyway and imagined rubbing his cockhead against it, letting those plump cuntlips suckle at his member while he rubbed his cock about in her softness. His fist was flying over his cock now and he didn't know why she wasn't awake, he was shaking the bed with his strokes and clumsy in his exploration of her little kit body. But she never stirred, not once, simply continued sucking away at her thumb in dream-land.
It was now or never, he knew he could never come to this place again, this dark place in his mind, he would indulge himself this once and tuck it away forever to be forgotten until the day he died. His face was so close to her crotch that his whiskers twitched against the insides of her thighs, and still he eased closer until his nose was only inches from her pink pussy and then he paused to inhale her scent. It was fresh like he imagined, smelled of soap and a hint of something else, maybe urine...and it set off every alarm and bell in his mind. Not the warning kind, unfortunately - but it drove his arousal to a spike and he couldn't help himself, he pulled her panties further away, nudged his face closer and stuck out his rough-texture tongue, he tickled the tip along her slit first, just a light touch as he built up courage. He didn't even really get a good taste but he groaned as if he'd dove in head first. The second time he ran his tongue along that slit, he let the tool wiggle between her plump folds to those softer, velvet layers that were hidden within, where the tiny pearl of her womanhood would blossom one day. The taste was like nothing he had ever experienced, so much more clean and pure than any woman he'd ever been with, even her mother. And he ended his exploration with a gentle probe of that delicate hole he knew he shouldn't breach.
She whimpered in her sleep as his tongue nudged gently at her tiny virgin hole, and she squirmed, bringing her thighs close together. He moved just in time, carefully avoiding her movements and ducking out of the way before she could close her legs and capture his head in a most precarious position. His tongue was tingling like it was on fire, just that tiny little taste and he knew he was hooked, he had made a big mistake...this was not a one night affair, he knew he would not let his little kitten rest until he had her, all of her. She was his, rightfully, and he should have her before she was spoiled by someone else. There he went, justifying it to himself once more. He stayed on his side at the foot of her bed, spread across it like a sleek black shadow, but the red flesh of his cock seemed to glow in the darkness of her room and he jerked himself faster and harder, pumping his cock in his fist as he imagined licking his darling kitten's cunt out, making her squeal and scream for her Daddy, for more, Daddy, more. He grunted roughly, jerked a final time and only barely managed to catch the seed bursting from the tip of his cock, he caught most of it in his fist and lay back on her bed, panting and breathless.
He knew he should have left long ago, it felt like hours he had been in her room, Rena would be home soon, he still had to clean up and find some way to sleep through his intense shame and guilt. He lifted from her bed carefully, his paw full of his own sticky cum, the limp pink of his cock withdrawing to its black sheath as he walked around her bed. He was going to kiss her goodnight and tuck her back in, but that dark need within him, to break down and give in to those most primal urges, it took her little thumb from her puckered lips, he smeared his sticky seed on it, rubbed it into the little padded-digit and then he nudged it back towards her mouth, pulled the blankets over her sleeping form and stood there watching until the thumb popped back into her mouth and she suckled unknowingly.
That's right, his little angel loved his cum, because she was Daddy's naughty little girl, she wanted it, didn't she? Of course she did, it's why she picked the hearts, she knew Daddy loved seeing her bottom in those pink heart panties. She wanted it as much as he did. He knew it. That's what he told himself as he left her room and walked into the bathroom to clean up. He had to tell himself that, or else he would take his pistol out of the closet, put the barrel to his temple and pull the trigger. The question was, what was worse for his babygirl - a father that molested her for his own perverse desires, or no father at all?
(to be continued)