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http://www.incesttaboo.com/incestgrrl

[Story Name] confession
[Author] Unknown
[Type] Father/daughter



        They say confession is good for the soul. But I don't know if
there is any hope for mine. A father has an obligation to be strong
and self-controlled when it comes to his children, a duty to set an
example and prepare them for the world. Not five minutes ago, I
watched Emma, my twelve-year-old, looking up at me from where she
knelt on her bed, with my semen running slowly down her face, dripping
from her chin onto her pajamas. I left her scooping what she could
from her face with her fingertips and sucking and licking the semen
from them. All the while, she looked at me.
         I make no bones about it. I love to see my poneytailed
daughter with her pretty, pink lips stretched around my cock! And she
knows it! That's clear. She's very deliberate in the slow way she
removes my cock from my pants when I come to "visit" her. Sometimes,
when it finally bobs free in front of her face, and she runs her hands
lightly over it, I think to myself, "God. what a whore. She really
knows how to turn me on."
      
          If the truth be known, my sexual relationship with Emma goes
back to a time that she can't remember, It began one night when my
wife, Emma's mother, had gone to her own mother's side when she had
fallen ill. She had been gone three days. We talked each day on the
phone. Her mother was out of danger, but she wanted to stay another
day or two to get the household back in shape and arrange for a nurse
to come in to check on her.
         With Miriam gone, I was lonesome. I read for awhile, but grew
tired of that. I mixed a few drinks, watched TV, had a few more
drinks, and soon was feeling fine. Emma was in the room next to ours
in her crib. She was one year old. As I watched the tube, I heard her
call out. It was late. Perhaps the sound of the TV had waked her. I
lowered the volume and went to see if she was okay. I turned the floor
lamp on in her room. She was standing up holding onto the bars of the
crib with her firm grip. She gave a squeal when she saw me.
         I walked up to the crib, picked her up and kissed her. She
was dry. No problem there. I put her back in the crib, and leaned over
looking at her. She reached through the bars of the crib and gave me a
couple of baby swats that landed right on my penis. I jumped back
instinctively. She was in the mood for playing. It felt weird having
my daughter touch my genitals, even though she had no idea what she'd
done. I stepped up close again, and the little arms thrashed at the
front of my pants again. This time I just stood there. I felt my cock
begin to stir. I knew that I should leave at once. Perhaps it was that
I wa a bit drunk, but I stayed.
           I reached over the top of the crib and took one of her arms
in each of my hands. Guiding them towards me, I began to encourage her
to continue her game. Holding her arms, I swung them gently at the
front of my pants. With a strange blend of shame and excitement, I
realized that I was erect. I went quickly to my room and removed my
pants, returning with my blue boxers looking like a small tent had
been pitched underneath them. Emma gigled when I came back into the
room. She jumped up and down. I came up to the crib and let the peaked
part of my shorts slip through the bars. Emma grabbed at it with both
hands. A surge of pure pleasure washed over me, and I felt my erection
reach it's steamy, straining maximum. I coached her to be more gentle,
taking her hands and stroking the thin fabric that separated her from
my cock.
           I devised a game of peek-a-boo. I allowed my cockhead (it
was as swollen and purple as Miriam had EVER made it!) to slip out of
the fly.  The first contact of Emma's moist, dimpled hand on my turgid
cockhead was delicious! When she touched or grabbed it, - as you might
expect -it reared up in ecstatic tribute to her! This only served to
make my penis that much more fascinating to her. A wonderful
arrangement, as far as I was concerned. Finally, I cast all caution to
the wind, dropped my shorts to the floor, and guided my thick, swaying
cock into the interior of the crib. Standing there in my shirttails, I
introduced my daughter to the pleasures of playing with her daddy's
erection. She had it going every which way! She would pull on it, slap
it with her little hands, hang from it with her hands, then let it go.
When she did this, she gave a delighted squeal when it flipped up to
its former position. It was great just watching her innocent face as a
backdrop to a grown man's aroused penis.
        I tried encouraging her to become interested in it orally, but
I was so excited that I'm afraid my penis was putting out an odor she
wasn't sure she liked. ( As a twelve-year-old, she loves the way my
hardon smells, and makes a point of getting her nose right up to it. )
I went to the kitchen and found some honey in one of the cabinets. I
returned to the crib and, taking some honey on my finger, I coated the
tip of my penis with it. I dabbed some honey on Emma's lips with my
finger. She loved it! This time when I slipped my cock between the
bars, Emma licked the honey off of it. she hadn't teethed yet, so
there was no danger of a painful bite. I reapplied the honey several
times, being careful to not use too much. I worried that too much
would make her sick. Each time I withdrew to coat the head with honey,
Emma watched expectantly. And when I offered my honey-glazed cockhead
to her, she would steady the shaft with both hands, and lick the head
til the honey was gone. By now, I was beside myself aching to have an
orgasm.
         I took Emma from her crib, and sat her on the carpet by my
feet. I took the sheet off the crib's mattress, leaving just the
plastic. I then slipped Emma out of her pajamas and diaper, and lifted
her back into the crib. I was paranoid about staining anything with
semen. But the plastic could be sponged off, and Emma could be bathed.
 I applied the honey once again. It occurred to me that it would be
even more exciting if I were naked too, so I slipped off my shirt and
socks.
            As Emma played with and licked my cock, I began to stroke
it. I put one of my hands over hers where she was holding on, and the
other closer to the base. After a few minutes, and after struggling
emotionally with an internal censor that condemned me, I felt an
incredible glow begin to come to life in my belly and in my balls.
Without pumping, without doing anything to alarm my little girl, I
felt the slow, exquisite progress of an orgasm unlike any I'd
experienced before. The first ejaculation was small. Emma barely
noticed it on her lips. I pulled back a bit before the next surge, and
watched in bliss as a large, milky globule flew through the air
between my penis' lips and Emma's face, landing  mostly on her nose,
and streaking along her right cheek. She dragged one of her arms
across her face to remove the unexpected fluid, but as she did this, I
pumped another copious wad of cum onto her forehead. She rubbed it
with the palms and backs of her hands. She was covered in semen! My
cock lurched spasmodically, as it slowly ratcheted down, dripping long
strings onto the mattress and onto Emmas little feet.