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His fingers grasped her cheek firmly, squeezing the cushion-like softness of her round rear with lustful passion. She let out a small moan of pleasure in response, her young voice tantalising and musical. Slowly, her lithe, naked body slid downwards, her bare chest rubbing against his own. The pointed tip of his hard, canine member sought out the warmth within her, pushing between her forbidden lips and deep inside. Looking down over his chest, Martin saw her kneeling over him, straddling his body as if riding a horse. And there he saw his shaft, buried to the knot between his six-year-old daughter's thighs.

The wolf woke from his dream with a start. Desperately, he shoved the lingering images from his mind and sat up. Peeling back the covers, Martin forced himself to ignore his morning wood and glanced at the digital clock sitting on his bedside table. With a sigh, he stood up and made his way over to the chest of draws; today, of all days, was not a good day to deal with this.

It didn't take long for the black wolf's arousal to fade while he focused on getting ready, though it did not leave him completely. He pulled on a pair of loose shorts and a clean, white shirt before going downstairs to make sure the house was tidy, despite having done so the night before. Alice was due to arrive with Lucy in just a couple of hours, and Martin's nerves were beginning to grow restless.

Since his daughter had left at the beginning of the week, the thirty-one year old wolf had lived in terror, constantly expecting every knock at the door or phone-call to be from police officers coming to arrest him for what he'd done with Lucy. But no such news ever came, and as the week wore on, Martin's nerves and paranoia began to settle. Until now. As the time for Alice's arrival drew nearer, the wolf's nerves and paranoia began to surge up once more. Would Alice even bring Lucy? Maybe she would serve him notice in person. Or perhaps she had something else planned, a thrashing from mobsters, perhaps? Or maybe even to be whacked?

That night that he had done those things with Lucy, he had told her that they would do them again in the morning. But when he woke in the morning, Martin found himself overwhelmed with relief that they'd both slept in and he couldn't deliver on his promise. Sleep had cleared his mind and since waking that morning, Martin had done his utmost to not think about the night before. He wanted only to ignore that those things had occurred, pretend that they didn't, and hope the truth never came out.

Since he had tidied up the house the night before, there wasn't anything for the wolf to actually do besides have breakfast and try not to let his nerves get the better of him. But when a knock at the door came a whole hour earlier than expected, Martin almost leapt out of his seat in fear. Paranoia swirled like a horrific vortex within the wolf's body, and a tiny voice at the back of his mind screamed at him to run, flee out the back door and prey the house wasn't surrounded by swat teams or mobsters. But another voice mirrored the first. Common sense. If he was going to be arrested or beaten, he probably would have been already; running now would only make him look guilty, potentially giving himself away for no reason. What had happened was a moment of weakness, an accident. As long as it didn't happen again, everything would be just fine.

Taking a deep breath, Martin got up to answer the front door.

Lucy didn't give her father time to open the door fully before she was inside and in the lounge room to watch TV. As his daughter excitedly darted past his legs and disappeared into the house, an incredible sense of relief washed over Martin. But Alice's presence soon reminded him that Lucy wasn't due to be dropped off by her for another hour, and she usually didn't have her limo waiting by the curb.

The older white rabbit wasn't what you'd call thin, but she was fit, with wide hips that curved into a smaller, subtly curved waist. No more than a couple of inches taller than Martin, and a few years his junior, Alice had a body that was very difficult to ignore, with at least an F-cup rack, if not a G, and thick, round thighs most guys would happily suffocate between. Standing in front of the door, the busty bunny wore a tight, blue blazer and short business style skirt. The blazer had only two buttons done up, but both were well below her bust, leaving little of her considerable and rather perky cleavage to the imagination, not to mention shamelessly flaunting a complete lack of both a shirt and bra underneath.

"What's... going on?" Martin asked, a little hesitant and confused.

"Afraid I can't stay," Alice said, setting down a small suitcase and practically shoving an envelope into Martin's hands, "I'm late."

"What's this?" Martin opened the envelop and pulled out what appeared to be a rather formal looking letter.

"Permission," Alice replied, "I had my lawyer draw it up, for the sake of legality. I'm going out of the country for a few days, but Lucy still has school so she can't come with me. That," Alice indicated the letter in Martin's hand, "is my formal permission for you to have extended custody for the duration of my absence. I'll be returning a day or two before I'm due to drop Lucy off for next weekend, so she might as well stay for the whole week. I'll pick her up again at the usual time after next weekend."

The black wolf couldn't help but discreetly eye his ex-wife's exposed chest as he pretended to read the envelope's contents. And just as he couldn't help but look, he couldn't help but imagine, either; imagine slipping his fingers into Alice's blue blazer to cup her ample breasts with his palms. That thought spurred his arousal once more, as did the knowledge that chances were high she'd simply smile mischievously and press into his fondling, just as Martin knew she certainly_would_ have several months earlier.

But instead, Martin decided to just leave it at an offhand comment. Besides, Alice had said she couldn't stay, right?

"Nice bra," the wolf commented.

"You like it?" Alice replied, smiling coyly as she adopted a provocative pose, "You should see my panties; they match."

The rabbit's words evoked a primal 'woof' from the wolf as his mind instantly turned to thoughts of the attractive lapin and her wearing absolutely nothing beneath the tight, short skirt that was sitting low on her hips. It reached about half way down her thighs and had an overlap on the left, allowing her to show off the full length of her left leg as she wanted, and potentially much more.

With a light giggle at her ex-husband's reaction, Alice turned and began to stride confidently towards her ride. "See you in a week," she called back, waving her hand in the air.

Martin just watched as Alice left, his gaze taking in the hypnotic sight of her round rear and puffy rabbit tail swaying from side to side like a well balanced pendulum.

"Daddy! Can I have a sandwich?" Lucy called from the lounge room.

Martin ogled Alice's rear for a moment longer before picking up the suitcase and closing the front door. "Sure thing, Bunny," the wolf replied.

Lucy sat in the middle of the lounge room floor, cross-legged and with her eyes glued to the TV screen. As she watched cartoons, her father brought in her small suitcase and set it down just inside the lounge room. From there, he made his way into the kitchen to make his daughter's requested sandwich.

"What would you like on your sandwich?" Martin called from the kitchen.

"Jam!" Lucy called back, a happy tone in her voice.

As the mature wolf gathered the bread, margarine and jam, and then began putting it all together, he realised that he felt calm, peaceful even. It was just another day, like any other; everything was normal, as if last weekend hadn't even happened. Maybe it hadn't? Martin smiled to himself as he was finally able to push those thoughts from his mind and not have them return uninvited.

*****

The morning progressed much as it did any other weekend. Lucy watched TV from the floor and Martin sat in his usual chair until lunch time. By then, most programs were daytime dramas or info-mercials, neither of which Martin or Lucy were interested in watching. So Lucy would usually spend the afternoon either playing outside or drawing. Today was turning out to be a pleasant, sunny day, so the young rabbit went out into the backyard to play.

Martin lived in the house he and his wife had lived in before getting divorced, so it was a family sized house with a pool out the back. And, although there was no water in the pool, there was no fence around it, so Martin followed his daughter outside, just in case.

While Lucy twirled and danced around the large, grassy area of the backyard, singing and talking to herself, Martin lay on a cushioned deckchair and opened a book he'd brought out with him. His daughter was an imaginative girl, easily enveloping herself in her own world, with characters and stories pulled from her imagination at the drop of a hat. Idly, the black wolf wondered what his six year old daughter might one day grow up to be. A writer? An artist? Perhaps even the director of some as yet unimagined blockbuster movie.

It wasn't long before the sun's warmth prompted Martin to lay back on the deckchair, closing his book and closing his eyes as the sound of his daughter's voice lulled him into a relaxed doze. Behind closed eyelids, images of Alice's bare chest came wafting back from earlier that morning. The sight of her breasts, large and round, supported and pressed together by the tightness of her blazer, but also blatantly displayed like they were in a shop's window, was enough to arouse the adult wolf, drawing the tip of his canine shaft out from its sheath.

"Daddy, can we do that thing again?"

Martin's heart skipped a beat as he opened his eyes and the images of his wife's chest fled from his mind. He'd almost forgotten that Lucy was there and immediately his arousal retreated as fear crept up in the back of his mind; had she seen him get aroused, seen a tent in his pants? And what thing was she talking about? But as Martin sat up and looked at his young daughter, he found himself speechless and knew right away what she meant.

Lucy stood by her father's side, a big smile on her face and the front of her dress pulled up. As innocently as if she were merely showing him something she'd found in the yard, the young bunny was eagerly showing her father exactly how little underwear she had on. Martin could only stare, unable to avert his eyes. The day had been so normal that he'd almost entirely forgotten about... that.

"No! What we did last weekend was a bad thing. It was wrong and shouldn't have ever happened. You shouldn't even be thinking about such things for another ten years," was what Martin wanted to say. Instead, he found himself speaking not in a stern tone, but a gentle one, "Lucy, doing this with you is very, very naughty. If anyone finds out, I'll be in a lot of trouble and get sent to jail; you'll never see me again. Nobody can know about this. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Lucy nodded, her expression solemn and sincere, "I promise, I won't tell anyone."

Martin looked his daughter in the eye for a moment before allowing his gaze to wonder back down to her exposed nether. "Alright. Climb up," he said, laying back and sliding his pants down with his thumbs, "Do you want to rub against me first, or-"

"In me!" Lucy eagerly interrupted as she climbed up onto the deckchair and threw her leg over her father's body.

I'm so going to hell, Martin thought as he watched his six year old daughter mount him. He hadn't even tried to say no. Morality and good sense were like prisoners locked in a dungeon, shouting out from behind their bars that this was wrong and shouldn't be done. But, from their cages, they could do nothing, had no control. When he woke that morning, one week ago, circumstance had forced Martin to think straight, unshackled the prisoners of his mind's dungeon and given them back control. And once Lucy was gone, the desire and hunger that had ruled his mind and body the night before had nothing to feed on. As Lucy's father forced the memories of the previous night from his mind, those urges withered, like a fragile plant not getting enough sunlight. Every little task Martin made into a distraction, another object to pile up around that plant, trying to block out its sunlight, those memories, in the hopes that it would never again show its petals.

It might have worked, too, in time.

But when Martin's eyes fell on his daughter's exposed sex once more, he didn't just fall off the wagon, it crumbled beneath him and turned to dust before blowing away in the wind. All that he had forgotten, all that the thirty-one year old wolf had tried so hard to snuff out came bursting from the darkest corners of his mind, once again banishing his good sense and morality to the dungeons. An undeniable craving spread through his every cell, hair fibre and sense like an unchecked plague, the unquenchable desire to hold her delicate, lithe body in his large, strong hands, stroke her young, subtle curves, and feel her forbidden, naked body press against his own.

Even at her age, Lucy's body was not unlike her mother's, with thick, round thighs and plump lips nestled between them at the top. Her rear was round and soft like a cushion, and her hips had the subtlest hint that they would grow to be as wide and curved as her mother's as well. Martin wondered if it was these similarities that were the initial cause of his lust, or if it was something more taboo. Maybe it was because she was his own daughter, or maybe because she was so young and innocent. Or perhaps it was a combination of all of these things. Whatever the reason, Martin didn't care that it was wrong any more, he just wanted to feast on the juices of this forbidden fruit for as long as it could last.

The moment Martin laid eyes on his daughter's display, the arousal she had chased away returned in full force. And he showed this to her without hesitation, pushing his pants down to reveal the full length of his pink, knotted canine member, unsheathed and ready to play. But Lucy didn't wait for her father to finish; she began climbing on top of him before his pants were around his ankles, forcing him to lay back and let her position herself over his erection, not that he was going to complain. With one hand, Martin held his shaft in an upright position while his other hand glided up his young daughter's thigh to her hip.

"Go slowly," he instructed. Lucy's eagerness was more than obvious and if he'd not said anything, she surely would have impaled herself too quickly. Nodding, the six-year-old rabbit-wolf cross-breed restrained her excitement and lowered her body slowly; and with her father's guiding help, slid down onto his shaft once more.

Martin bit his lip as he watched. He couldn't decide which was more pleasurable, _watching_his shaft slide slowly into his daughter's young body, or _feeling_it. Eventually Lucy stopped, unable to take any more of her father's length. Martin looked up at her and saw the face she was making, one of great enjoyment.

"Do you remember how I showed you to move?" Martin asked.

Lucy nodded, "I think so."

With the older wolf's hands resting gently on her hips, the youthful girl began to slowly push herself up a few inches, leaning forward as she pushed her rear outward behind her. She then slid back down, bringing her hips forward again as she neared the lowest she could reach, straightening up her lithe frame. "That's right. Just like that," Martin said, guiding her pace as she moved. Lucy slowly gyrated her hips, up, back, down and forward, then up again, then back, and down and forward. She instantly felt the familiar pleasure that she had experienced the weekend before and her expression showed it. There was something so pleasing about feeling that thick, warm, alive object pushing into the depths of her body. She didn't understand it, but she wanted more of it.

Martin let out a low growl as he allowed his body and mind to sink into the pleasure of the situation. Lucy's body was light and fragile, weighing next to nothing compared to any other woman. Yet she enveloped him just as snugly. He stroked her waist and hips with his fingers as she moved her body, feeling the softness of her fur and the suppleness of her flesh. Her warmth wrapped around his erection, massaging it with each motion. Soon she began to make little noises, moans of pleasure and the occasional short-breathed whimper. Her voice sounded cute but also added to Martin's sinful desire. He wanted to hear her make these sounds more, so he encouraged her to go faster.

Lucy was eager to oblige. Per her father's instruction, the bunny increased her pace gradually, but maintained her rhythm and motion. One of Martin's hand's slid up under his daughter's dress, feeling her side and back with his fingertips. His thumb brushed over her nipple which the mature wolf noticed had become hard in response to the stimulation lower down. With a mischievous half grin, Lucy's father circled his thumb around her nipple before gently rubbing over it. This made Lucy giggle more than anything, at first. But soon she was biting her lower lip at her father's teasing and her pace instinctively increased further.

Martin lifted his knees as he tried to hold back his own stimulation. But Lucy was beginning to gain control. She was now grinding more than anything, rocking her hips forward and back, pressing herself down as much as she could. The pointed tip of her father's shaft pressed against her insides, refusing to go deeper. But the pleasure felt too good and Lucy wanted more. More and more, like someone feasting on food to sate their hunger but gaining no satisfaction from it. And as she continued, the hunger only intensified. Martin grit his teeth as his fingers gripped his daughter's lithe body; amid the pleasure she was giving him, he felt a fear that his daughter would hurt herself by pushing down too hard. Her moans grew louder, shorter and more erratic. She was bucking, now, with her head lulled back and her hands on her father's raised knees. It was all Martin could do to hold his daughter in place, keeping her from impaling herself in a way that would only result in pain for her and prison for him. But she continued to buck, that alone making the rigid, pink length of muscle keep sliding in and out of her body. Lucy's juices coated her father's shaft and Martin watched with front row tickets to the show going on between his six-year-old daughter's legs.

The thirty-one year old black wolf was on the verge of climaxing. He could feel the unmistakably familiar sensation of his full load ready to surge forth in pulses. Like a swollen dam straining against its confines, Martin's manhood was beginning to ache, that pleasant aching that only came from denying release while continuing to stimulate the senses. Gritting his teeth, Martin tried to hold out for as long as he could, desperately wanting to prolong this forbidden pleasure.

Lucy, however, was oblivious to her father's personal plight. She had become completely absorbed by this warm feeling of goodness inside of her, flooding her body and mind. The pleasure was unlike anything she had experienced before and it had become her addiction. Absolutely consumed by it, Lucy craved nothing else but to feel more of this wonderful, incredible feeling. She needed it. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. She didn't yet understand the taboo, nor could she comprehend its appeal, but the feeling of her father's warm, throbbing muscle rubbing against her inner walls was undeniably the best feeling ever, beyond anything she could've hoped to imagine.

And then her mind exploded. A surge. A rush. Like a balloon filled with air to the point of breaking, the pleasure reached its pinnacle and Lucy gasped. Her muscles tensed and her back arched. A low, soft moan began within her, rapidly growing into a long, loud one. Her eyes went wide but she saw nothing. White encompassed her as though everything else but this eruption of pleasure had ceased to exist. Martin sat up and wrapped one arm around his daughter's body, pulling her down onto his chest. Lucy's fingers fumbled, searching for something to grab hold of. The cushion. Her father's arms. His fur. The young cross-breed moaned into the older wolf's chest, his fur muffling her voice. Her hips bucked instinctively, a deep-seeded need to continue feeding on this unprecedented experience.

Eventually the pleasure subsided, washing away like a tide receding back into the ocean. All that was left was Lucy's swirling mind. She felt light headed and her chest ached. She realised she'd been holding her breath for the entire experience. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? As the bunny's senses slowly resettled and she caught her breath, Lucy sat up slowly and looked at her father. His face wore a big grin.

"What.... what was that?" Lucy breathed.

"That, my dear, was an orgasm," Martin said. The wolf couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

The young lapin slowly swayed her hips a little, enjoying the pleasant feeling that still lingered. Looking down, she saw a dribble of white cream running down the inches of canine erection that didn't fit inside her youthful body. The sight fascinated her, and she giggled as her movements made more of the cream seep from inside of her.

"What am I going to do with you?" Martin mused, smiling at his six year old daughter.

Lucy looked her father in the eyes and grinned playfully, "More of that?" she asked.

Martin sighed a little, "Sex. It's called having sex," the adult wolf replied. If they were going to continue doing it, he figured she should at least know what it was called, "Or fucking. But you really shouldn't say that one. Then again, we really shouldn't be doing it to begin with."

The young white gave her hips a wiggle before asking again, "So, can we?"

Martin bit his lower lip and his placed his hands on his daughter's hips to stop her moving them, "Not now," he said, "later."

"Aw," Lucy pouted, "OK."

Reluctantly, the bunny lifted her hips, biting her lip as she felt the pleasure of the thick shaft sliding out of her body. Martin could only stare at her, allowing his body and mind to feel attracted to her delicate, lithe form. He moved his hands a little higher, caressing her waist and making Lucy giggle a little.

"I love you," the wolf confessed.

"Love you too, Daddy," Lucy smiled. She had no idea what he truly meant. Even Martin hadn't realised how deep his attraction had become. But was it really that kind of love, or just lust? He didn't care. The words he spoke were natural, they flowed from his mouth without even a thought. And when Lucy's father realised what he'd said, what he meant, he didn't hesitate to admit to himself that it was true.

Sitting up, Martin lifted his daughter's dress and kissed her belly, then moved his muzzle upward, her dress draping over his nose as he planted a second kiss upon her chest, making Lucy giggle. Completely resigned to his desires, Martin took the opportunity to admire his little girl's bare thighs and the plump lips between them as she climbed down. Without a second thought, the young bunny skipped off, if a little awkwardly, to play some more. She spun and danced, off in her own little world, listening to music only she could hear. And as she twirled and skipped about, her dress rose and fell, giving her watching father glimpses that kept him hard for a while longer. Idly, the thirty-one year old wolf wondered to himself, how could something so young and innocent drive a man to such lust and desire?