Date: Sun, 25 Jun 2023 16:20:43 +0000 From: Jane Smith Subject: Slippery Slope - complete short story This is a longer story than those I usually submit, but I wanted to keep the momentum rather than splitting it into chapters. It features M/F/f, F/f, M/f. You can contact me at allseeingpigeon@outlook.com. I read all emails, though I may not respond. Ideas and feedback are always welcome. I'm on Wickr as allseeingpigeon. I may not be in your time zone. Please bear that in mind if you don't get a response. I have more ideas for this story, so if there's sufficient interest I may write a sequel. Please do not send pics without asking first, I'm a perfect fucking lady ;) This story is fantasy and has no basis in reality. Nifty is a vast, invaluable resource, so why not make a financial contribution at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ? --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The first time I saw my husband molesting our daughter, I was in the kitchen washing dishes. The sink was positioned in such a way that I could look through the open door into the living room beyond. My husband Henry was in his battered old leather armchair, our daughter Mathilda (or Tilly as she insisted on being called, mostly because she hadn't quite learned to spell her name yet) sitting in his lap as she often did after dinner. Some sweet daddy-daughter time while he watched the evening news, and she grew sleepy enough for bed. She had beautiful black hair; thick and sleek, like mine, and we shared the same pale skin and blue eyes. Henry was blonde and tanned, brown eyes, and a lightly muscled physique. If we ever had a son, I could imagine him looking like his father. That first time... Tilly was in his lap as usual. She was already asleep. Henry was grinding against her ass, so slow and subtle I barely noticed. But I saw them sideways on, so it was easier to see the way her little body moved as he humped her. At first, I felt sick. Then angry. I wanted to shout and scream, kick him out, call the police. Protect my little girl. But I couldn't act -- couldn't even speak -- perversely fascinated by what he was doing to her. I was sickened. Of course I was. The man I loved, trusted, was doing something unspeakable to our little girl. How long had it been going on? Why hadn't I noticed sooner? But a tiny part of me was impressed by his sheer gall. The kitchen door was open. Surely it must have occurred to him that I'd look up from the sink once in a while? I stared at my husband as he gently rutted against our daughter. My hands were in the water, holding a plate; when he drew a ragged breath -- when his hips gave a single sharp, upward thrust, and he trembled -- I gripped that plate so hard I thought it would break. He'd just had an orgasm grinding against our daughter's ass. He slumped. I released the breath I'd been holding. And then I looked down, carried on with the dishes, and said nothing. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We fucked later that night, long after I'd put Tilly to bed. Henry surprised me while I was cleaning my teeth. His arms closed around me from behind while he kissed my neck; giggling -- deliberately forgetting what I'd seen earlier -- I spat out the toothpaste and tried to rinse my mouth. Henry stopped me, pulling my hair back and turning my head for a wet, minty kiss. His hand pushed insistently beneath my nightie. I parted my legs to give him access, gasping against his mouth when his fingers brushed my swollen clit. My pussy was wet, wetter than it had been for a long time. Henry's erection ground against my ass. He pushed me over the basin, yanking up the silky hem of my nightie. Fabric rustled. The head of his hard cock lined up with my slick opening, and then with one hard thrust, he shoved inside me. I cried out. His hand clamped over my mouth. I gripped the edge of the basin as he fucked me, my pleasured moans stifled by his hand. Images flashed through my head. Henry's hips moving as he'd humped our daughter. I couldn't block them out. There was something so... so fucking *dirty* about this, knowing he'd rubbed himself off on Tilly's little bottom. Knowing he'd molested her... and that I'd let him do it. I came a good three or four times before he finally shot inside me. Getting out that first load earlier had increased his staying power, it seemed. He filled me up, finally pulling out, leaning against me as we both struggled to get our breath back. Hot and sweaty. I should feel guilt, I knew that, but it was all I could do just to stumble into bed. Henry surprised me once more. I was so tired I didn't even bother cleaning up his cum as it dribbled out of me, but as soon as I'd flopped into bed he was on me again. He rammed his tongue in my cunt as vigorously as he had his cock, and sucked me to another intense orgasm that had me pressing a pillow over my face to muffle the noise. He slurped his own spunk out and licked me raw, finally cuddling up beside me. "Love you," he mumbled, his eyes already closed. "Love you too." I put my hand on his chest and fell asleep. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That might not have been the start of it for Henry -- I don't know how long he'd been using our sleeping daughter to get off -- but it was the start of it for me. It happened again a few days later while I was doing dishes. I saw the slow, subtle rise of his hips, saw the way Tilly's legs moved. Was she really asleep? Or just pretending to be so? She was just old enough to realise what was happening, and just old enough to understand that it was wrong. And every time he ground his cock against her tiny ass, he'd come to me later that night. We'd fuck. Wildly. He was controlling, sometimes rough -- working out his guilt, perhaps -- but he always sucked his slimy load out of my pussy. Always made me cum like a fucking train. At first it only happened once a week. Then twice. Soon it was three times a week, and we were having more sex than we'd had even before we were married. I couldn't stop thinking about what he was doing to Tilly. I couldn't stop imagining it when we fucked. And it wasn't long before just the thought of my husband molesting our daughter was enough to get me wet. It was so fucked up, but I couldn't help the way my body was learning to react. I was practical enough to realise that our little bubble couldn't last. Henry wasn't going to be content with just humping Tilly's ass. One day -- soon -- he was going to do more. Touch her. Put his hands on her. Do things with his cock that weren't just cloth against cloth. I had three options:- let it happen, and deal with the inevitable fall-out a year or five or ten later when my daughter finally snapped and went to the police; put a stop to it, divorce my husband, take my daughter, and move away; or... manage it in a way that didn't hurt her. I took option three. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was happening again. Henry was humping our daughter as she slept in his lap. She wasn't going to wake up for a while, not with the sleeping pill I'd ground up and put in her drink at dinner time. I watched him as I washed the dishes. I had to time this just right; I wanted him hard, aching, desperate to cum. I pulled my hands out of the sink. Wiped them on a tea-towel. Walked silently into the living room. Henry stopped moving immediately, but he couldn't hide the way his breath raced. He opened his mouth. Maybe to explain. Maybe to deny. Or, hell, maybe just to comment on the news still playing on the TV. I held up my hand. "Don't speak," I said. My heart was racing. Moisture pooled between my thighs. The taboo; the risk. "I know what you've been doing. And I think you know that I know." His mouth snapped shut. He nodded. The sick fuck; of course he knew I knew! That was part of what turned him on so damned much. The voyeuristic thrill of his own wife watching him dry-fuck their little girl. "So here's how it's going to be. You don't touch her unless I can see what you're doing. So I know you're not hurting her. Do you understand?" Another nod. "And you don't talk." Another nod. This was a power trip of sorts for me; I held all the cards. "I gave her a sleeping pill," I continued. "So you can... explore a little more." Henry's eyes grew wider. He drew a sharp breath. Whatever action he'd thought I might take, this wasn't it. "But you only do what I tell you," I added. "Not one damned thing more or less." He nodded, over and over. I squeezed my thighs together, getting some pressure on my aching clit, and sat in the armchair opposite. I pulled my skirt up an inch or so. A silent hint of what was to come. Tilly was spark out on her daddy's lap, leaning at a slant across his chest. The back of her head rested against his shoulder. She looked so sweet. So innocent. "Stroke her leg," I said softly. "I want to see your big adult hand on her chubby little knee." His hand moved. Slowly. His palm cupped her calf, his thumb rubbing over her skin. He could wrap his fingers around her leg. His hand slid up. It came to rest on her knee. I enjoyed the perverted image they made, the threat implicit in the way he touched her. Catching my eyes, he caressed her leg, back down over her knee and to mid-calf. Then back up. Again and again. He was trembling with excitement, and I had to admit, I wasn't far behind. There was an exquisite sense of danger to what we were doing. A depth of pleasure neither of us had ever achieved. "Slide her skirt up," I whispered, doing the same to mine. "Show me her panties." I'd already seen them. I'd picked them out for her this morning. They were plain pink with a little bow on the elastic. Henry tweaked a finger over the hem of her skirt. He drew it slowly over her smooth, pale thighs. The material bunched around her waist. I pulled my own skirt higher and spread my legs. I wasn't wearing any panties at all, and Henry licked his lips, staring with naked desire at my equally naked slit. Even with the distance between us, he wouldn't be able to miss the moisture glistening on my exposed pussy lips. My clit throbbed. "T-shirt up," I said huskily. "Take your dick out. Put it between her legs." Henry let out a soft, barely audible whine of excitement. His arousal was an aphrodisiac, and I felt a fresh gush of wetness soak my crotch. With a rustle of cloth, he gently shifted our sleeping daughter, reaching beneath her to free his erection from his pants. He let it spring up between her limp legs. It looked obscene -- absolutely obscene -- this big adult penis, a fat 7 inches, standing proud as if she was a futanari. Henry settled her back against his chest again, but he sat them up straighter so his heavy cock lay against the plain crotch of her panties. He pulled her T-shirt up, tucking it under her armpits. Her breasts were non-existent, nothing more than puffy nipples on a flat bed. I reached between my legs and lightly stroked my damp lips. My fingertips grazed my clit, making me shiver. "Touch her nipple. Play with it. Rub your cock against her crotch." I finally touched my clit, gasping at the intense, focused burst of pleasure. I gripped my breast with my free hand, squeezing it through my blouse. Pinching my own, much bigger nipple. "I want you to cum," I added as my head lolled back against the headrest. "Fuck her thighs and cum." God. Oh God. I was already rubbing my clit much harder than I'd intended. I was so fucking turned on. I hadn't intended to speak half the words that had just come out of my mouth. Henry pinched Tilly's nipple. It was a hard pinch that would have made her squeak had she been awake, but the pill kept her sleeping deep. Her skin reddened. He used his legs to squeeze her thighs tight around his dick. There was no slow build-up:- he humped her rough and hard, making her unconscious body jerk and twitch. The sheer obscenity made me rub my clit faster. We were driving each other higher, faster, harder. Henry was gasping, moaning in Tilly's unhearing ear, fucking her thighs the way I knew he wanted to fuck her pussy. I came first. My orgasm hit me like a brick, exploding through my body and making me arch up in the seat. Henry followed half a minute later; thick ropes of white cum splattered across Tilly's panties, her pudgy little belly, and over her flat breasts. Henry's feral growl was enough to make me shiver. We stared at each other. Breathing hard. I waited for shame to come, but I felt nothing. Nothing but a freshly rising wave of excitement. Far from being sated, what we'd just done had unlocked a door of deviant possibility. Henry wiped a single finger through the sticky spunk on our daughter's belly. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. "Use her fingers," I whispered. I was beginning to think that *I* was the true pervert, not my husband. Henry's flaccid cock was slowly rising back to life. He took Tilly's little hand in his, then crooked her fingers to scoop the splashes of cum off her body before he sucked each one. It was messy, smearing more cum than it cleared up, but oh dear sweet Lord... it made my pussy clench. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He carried her upstairs and laid her on her bed. He raised hopeful eyebrows. I shook my head: no. That was his limit for today. He gave me a half-shy, half-bashful smile and shuffled out of Tilly's room. I closed the door behind him. When he was gone, I undressed her and used her already spunked-on panties to wipe the rest of the mess off her skin. I put her into her pyjamas. Mother now, not molester. What to do with her panties? I should rinse them, then put them straight in the wash. I carried them out into the hall. Henry was waiting for me. No words passed between us, but we both understood what was needed; he shoved me face-first against the wall, one hand fumbling at my skirt, the other snatching Tilly's soiled panties from my grip. He stuffed them into my gasping mouth at the same time his hard cock-head found my sopping wet opening. He fucked me so hard I screamed. It was muffled by the fabric in my mouth. My tongue moved over the slimy mess, tasting my husband's salty spunk, and the faintest tang of... Tilly's young pussy. I was tasting her bare little snatch for the first time. I came so hard Henry had to hold me up. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ That set the pattern for the weeks and months to come. Twice a week, he dry-humped our daughter while I did the washing up. Later that night, my husband fucked me until I was hoarse. Friday nights were special. On Friday, I crushed a sleeping pill and put it into her drink. I chose a Friday night because it meant I could legitimately let Tilly sleep in the next day without arousing suspicion. I knew things were going to escalate. I fooled myself that I was still in control; and I was... of Henry. But I had no control over my own desires. An unconscious little girl, a perpetually-aroused husband... he and I pushed our lusts -- and our limits -- with no sign of stopping. The second Friday, I let Henry touch Tilly's panty-clad crotch with his full hand. He cupped it in his palm. His dick was out -- hot and hard and leaking pre-cum -- and I let him smear that sticky mess over her crotch. He was fascinated with her nipples. He loved pinching them, flicking them, stroking them. He licked his fingers and smeared them over her puffy nubs. It wasn't long before he covered her mounds with strings of cum. Touching her crotch soon progressed to sliding one thick, adult finger inside. I watched as he tugged the material aside, giving me a perfect few of her slit. It was so fucking small. He teased her lips, slid his finger along the length of her pussy, found her immature clit. After a few months we took our playing into our bedroom, where there was more space. Where I could get close enough for a really good view, close enough that I could smell Henry's sweat. Where I caught the occasional whiff of Tilly's little cunt. It made my mouth water. We spiralled deeper into our depravity. I let Henry strip her naked. I let him lick her nipples. Suck them. Bite them. Fuck, I loved watching that so much. By this point I was jilling so much I'd switched to using a clit vibrator, to give my fingers a rest. Seeing him suck her tiny puffy nipples always made me cum. After a while he started kissing her on the mouth, forcing his tongue between her sleeping lips. He sucked her lips. He sucked her tongue. He would kiss every inch of her naked body, from head to toe. He wrapped her long black hair around his cock and used it as a sheathe, spunking over her thick locks. Then he'd suck up every drop. He'd kiss her face, her ears, her neck; her collarbones; her breasts and nipples. He blew raspberries on her belly and then blew his load. He licked her thighs, her knees, her calves. He even sucked her tiny toes. He spent hours licking her pussy. Drilling his tongue into her tight, virgin hole. By this point it was inevitable that he was going to fuck her, and it was inevitable that I'd encourage him to do so. I still had this notion in my head that it could be done without hurting her. I knew I was kidding myself, but I pretended. I wondered which part of her he'd take first -- her mouth, her cunt, or her ass. He started with her mouth. She had perfect pink lips, smooth and slightly swollen after he'd spent the last ten minutes kissing her. We'd long since moved past the point of me giving him instructions; these days, he just did what he wanted, looking at me from time to time. Sometimes I shook my head no; too rough, too much, too soon. Like the time he pulled her panties down and her skirt up, then pulled her unconscious body over his lap. He spanked her smooth, bare little ass five times before he looked at me. Her skin had reddened. Too much. That was a no. But mostly I said yes. Like now, when he pressed the head of his cock to her perfect lips. He squeezed her jaw to make her mouth open, then slowly slid his cock inside. An inch. Inch and a half. He was shuddering, sweating, moaning with pleasure. I came there and then, the clit vibe almost making me squirt from the force of my orgasm. He pushed his cock deeper. She gagged. I touched his arm to get his attention, then shook my head. Too deep. Passed out, there was no way he could fuck her throat without choking her. I knew that idea turned him on. It turned me on, too. I imagined what Tilly would look like, stretched out on her back, her head hanging off the end of the bed. Black hair hanging around her. Mouth open wide like a little bird. And her daddy's big, fat cock stretching her lips impossibly wide. Pushing deeper. Hearing her choke and splutter. Seeing the tears streaking her face, seeing the way her arms and legs flailed as he held her down. Seeing his hips piston back and forth as he brutally fucked her throat... I came again, lost in the fantasy. As I came back to myself Henry was jerking off, cockhead just above Tilly's open mouth. He groaned and shot over her tongue, her lips, her chin. Fucking hell, it was messy -- his aim altered as the orgasm gripped him, sending splatters over her face and hair. He licked her clean. There was something so deliciously depraved about seeing an adult man lick a little girl's face. Watching him noisily, wetly, suck his spunk out of her mouth. It was enough to make me rub furiously at my clit again. My husband wanted to fuck her throat every bit as much as I wanted to see it. If I wasn't here, he'd have bred her six ways to Sunday by now. But he *was* going to fuck her. Soon. And we had to get her ready for that. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I started it. For the first time I touched my daughter in a sexual way. My fingers were slimmer than Henry's, my touch gentler. I took my time exploring. I touched her with trembling hands. Her plump little thighs. Her belly. The first time I touched her nipples -- puffier now, she was a growing girl, and daddy's attentions were forcing her body to develop -- my pussy clenched. But it was her hairless little slit that held my interest. Without parting her lips, I caressed her mound. Kissed it. Licked it. Nuzzled it with my nose. Only when I'd played my fill did I eventually use a finger and thumb to spread her and find her clit. I heard Henry jacking off as I licked her. He knelt right next to us. "Cum on my face," I hissed, rubbing my cheek over Tilly's snatch. "Cum on your little girl's cunt. Do it!" Henry groaned and shot. Spunk splattered wetly over my forehead, my cheek, and Tilly's open pussy. I smeared my face in it. I was cunt-drunk for the first time in my life. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was another couple of weeks before I stopped being so distracted that I remembered what I was supposed to be doing:- stretching my little girl so she could take her daddy's cock. I started with a single finger and a lot of lube. "She's so tight," I cooed softly, describing the sensations to my salivating husband. "Her pussy walls are gripping my finger, I can hardly get it all the way inside." I found her hymen. Gently, gently... fuck it, there was no gentle way to do this. I pushed my finger through and broke it. Tilly let out a soft noise of discomfort, the only noise she'd made through all the weeks of our molestations. When I pulled my finger out, it was smeared with red. Henry dived in. He sucked my fingers. Then he turned his head and buried his face in Tilly's snatch. It took weeks, but I forced us to be patient. I stretched her with one finger, then two. Henry started fingering her. His man-fingers were longer than mine, wider. He thrust roughly inside her sweet snatch and rubbed her clit with his thumb. Her body trembled, though the pills kept her asleep. I kept a close eye on her during the days. If there was any residual soreness from our focus on her pussy, there was no sign of it in her movements. Finally, I decided it was time to move on to toys. I bought a slim anal vibrator. Wider than her daddy's fingers, but narrower than his cock, it seemed like the perfect step. We got her naked little body splayed out on our bed. Henry spent a good twenty minutes eating her put, drilling her hole with his tongue, and making such pleasured grunts that I wondered if he could make himself cum just by doing this. I sat back and used the vibrator on myself, sliding it back and forth along my sopping wet pussy to get it slicked up. I couldn't help myself -- I turned the vibrator on and worked it around my swollen clit, working up to an orgasm that had me shaking and sweating. There was just *something* about seeing an adult-sized head between a child's legs. When he'd satisfied himself, he slithered off to the side and gave me room to move in. I reluctantly took the soaked and still-buzzing toy away from my clit and began sliding it up and down the length of Tilly's tiny pussy. The vibrations were affecting her. Her unconscious body shook and trembled, and in no time at all she was convulsing in an orgasm. I dropped the toy and buried my face in her snatch, licking and sucking like a demented woman. Henry grabbed my hair and yanked my head back; he kissed me, rough and possessive, then tongued our daughter's juices from around my mouth. Picking the toy up again, I carefully positioned it at Tilly's slightly-gaping, tongue-fucked hole. I took a shallow, ragged breath and pushed it inside her. Half an inch. An inch. Her pussy was tight around the vibrating dick, so tight. I worked it in as deep as I dared. Then I fucked her with it. Slow and smooth, pulling the toy out, then driving it back in again. My husband lay on his side, his face inches away from his daughter's violated cunt. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I spent a few weeks stretching her out. Getting her ready for daddy's cock. When I eventually gave him permission, the look on his face was nothing short of ecstatic. That night I gave Tilly a higher dose of sleeping pills than usual. I wanted her asleep until long into tomorrow morning, because I knew that my husband and I would want to play with our child all night long. It seemed to be a shaking off of whatever scant inhibitions either of us had remaining. Once we had Tilly naked and spread-eagled on our bed, we shared a single burning look: anything goes. No holds -- or holes -- barred. There was a madness on us, desire and lust and power over the tiny life we'd made. We'd made her. We owned her. She was ours, to have and to hold. Henry seemed content to watch as I reached for Tilly first. My pussy was already wet. I was so aroused I could scarcely decide what I wanted to do first. I wanted to lick and suck and bite and fuck every part of her. I had a brief moment of clarity. What the hell was I doing? What were *we* doing? Tilly was a child. Our daughter. The clarity blurred. My lust was too strong, the ache in my clit too powerful to overcome. I laid beside her on the bed. "Lift her up," I said. "Put her between my legs. I want to grind on her." "Dirty bitch," Henry growled, grinning like a sick dog. "Yes," I said simply. I spread my legs wide, bending them at the knee. Henry man-handled Tilly between them, getting one of her legs under my raised thigh, slinging the other over my stomach. He pushed her shoulders to slide her body closer until her tiny pussy pressed against mine. He held her limp torso upright. I arched my hips. The entirety of Tilly's mound fit inside my spread pussy lips. It was an intoxicating sensation, and with just a little wriggling I was able to position my slippery clit between her own puffy lips. Locked together like that, it was easy to hump against her. I started off slow. But I felt so fucking dirty, so nasty and sexy with this gorgeous little girl clamped to my cunt, that I was soon grinding like mad. Tilly bounced in Henry's grip. I came too soon. The wild, exotic wrongness of what I was doing made me crazy. I came so hard I actually squirted. Liquid splashed over Tilly's plump thighs. "Piss on her," Henry said as I panted for breath and tried to recover. "I want you to piss on her, and I'll lick it off." I elbowed myself into a half-upright position. We'd never indulged in watersports before. But hey... we'd never done a lot of things, before I'd caught him humping her ass. He'd lain her back down flat on the bed. Her mound was pink and swollen from grinding against mine. And glistening with my juices. So pretty. "Where should I aim?" I mused aloud. "Her face? Her little titties?" I pinched one of her nipples, teasing it to a hardened peak. "Or maybe her cute belly." Soft, plump, round. "Or... right in her kitty..." I spread her pussy lips apart. "Everywhere," Henry said hoarsely, flogging his dick so fast his hand blurred. "Cover her in piss." We were nasty. Sick. And fucking horny. I knelt with my knees on either side of Tilly's head, then looked down into her face. She slept so peacefully, drugged and unaware. Smiling slightly, I pushed down, letting go of the bladderful of urine I'd been holding. The first trickles of pale liquid splashed over her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. Into her open mouth. I scooted down her body, quickly losing control of my stream. Piss ran over her throat, her chest, her belly. I let out a groan as I lowered my crotch over hers, letting the last of my piss run into her cunt. It quickly overflowed. Henry pressed his face in between us, tongue whipping greedily between the adult pussy and the child's. He lapped up my piss as if he couldn't get enough of it. He tongue-bathed her body, kissing her belly and flat breasts, sucking her nipples, kissing her on the mouth. As I moved aside, he slid his body over hers. When he slid his cock into her mouth, I didn't stop him. Deeper and deeper; I didn't stop him. She made choking noises. I didn't stop him. He pulled out, letting her take a few breaths... only to plunge back in, throat-fucking our daughter as brutally as I'd fantasised he would weeks ago. Only this time it was real. This time he was actually depriving a little girl of oxygen. I dug my fingers in my pussy and rubbed my clit, convulsing around a fresh orgasm. Henry grunted and moaned. Tilly's lips were stretched wide around his fat cock, her face turning red, his adult-sized hands gripping her head as he fucked her. His big balls slapped repeatedly at her chin. He yelled -- a crazed, uncontrolled noise -- and was still, save for a few stilted jerks of his hips. He was cumming down her throat. He pulled out. She drew ragged breaths and coughed, but still didn't wake. I rolled her into her side so she wouldn't choke on her daddy's load. Cum and slime trickled out of her mouth, soaking the blanket beneath. Her chin and even her cheeks had a messy sheen. "I just shot down my daughter's throat," he said, flopping onto his back. His chest rose and fell as he tried to get his breath back. His laugh had a hysterical edge that I understood, because I felt that way too. We'd just fallen over the precipice. "You'll last longer when you fuck her for the first time," I said, just as breathless. Nothing seemed taboo now. "But you need to punish her first for getting your cum all over her face.' Henry grinned. He hauled himself into a sitting position, reaching for our daughter with greedy hands. "She's a dirty girl," he agreed. "And dirty little girls get their asses spanked." He positioned her over his lap. After an orgasm as heavy as the one he'd just had, it would take him a hot minute to recharge. That was OK. Tilly's backside was a delicious sight. Two pert, tiny mounds sticking up, a sliver of hairless pussy showing between her thighs. Henry caressed her bottom. His whole hand virtually covered her ass. He slapped one cheek -- more of a pat than anything -- and the other. The soft sound of flesh on flesh made my clit throb again. The pats soon turned to swats, which became sharp, ringing slaps. Her skin turned pink. I squeezed my thighs together, pinching my nipples. During our previous sessions I'd always stopped a spanking when Tilly's skin reddened, but I didn't stop it now. Henry was grunting like an animal with each slap. "I want to fuck her now," he declared. The skin of her bottom was cherry red. "Do it," I urged. "Breed her. Breed the little fucking slut." He glanced at me for a moment, clearly taken about by my ferocity and words. But I was too far gone... and so was he. He pushed her off him. I turned her onto her back, pulling her legs apart and moving her arms out as if she was restrained. Henry knelt between her knees. His cock was hard again, heavy and throbbing, pre-cum already dripping from the slit. He leaned forward. Rubbed the head of his cock slowly along her tiny pussy. He loomed over her like a sweating, rabid animal. "You need more lube," I said suddenly. "She'll be too tight unless you slick her up." "You do it," he grunted. "Quick, or I'll fuck her raw." I reached mindlessly for the bottle of lube, squeezing some onto my hand. I gripped his dick and pumped it -- once, twice -- then squeezed more lube at her tiny hole. I worked it in and up her with my fingers. Christ, even with weeks of preparation, she was still so fucking tight. I moved back, positioning myself against the headboard. I slipped my fingers inside my pussy and slowly started fucking myself as Henry moved back into position. He lined himself up again. Slowly, so slowly, he pushed forward, working his cock inside our daughter's hole. Her lips stretched obscenely wide. Henry was gasping, dripping sweat on her, but eventually buried himself balls deep. "Feels so fucking good." His voice was tight with strain. He pulled back, slow but barely controlled, shuddering. He pushed in again. His body looked so perversely big above hers. She was little and helpless, and here we were, taking what we wanted. He fucked her with long strokes, grunting and groaning with each. The movements became more faster, more fluid. His heavy balls slapped against her thighs. I grabbed the nearest dildo and rammed it into my squelching cunt, imagining it was his cock inside me, that he was fucking mother and daughter together. "Fuck the bitch," I hissed, lost to my own pleasures. "Fuck her little cunt, you greedy bastard, cum in her pussy till she's overflowing." I was panting like a demented woman. He put his hand on her belly. "I can feel my dick," he said, his wonder obvious. I leaned in, still banging my pussy, and yes -- the bulge of his cock was just apparent against her flat stomach. He grabbed my hand and put it over the bulge. The sheer depravity was enough to make me cum. I arched up off the bed, the force of my orgasm making me squirt again. I sank back down into a damp mess, the dildo dangling obscenely from my twitching cunt. Henry, meanwhile, had pulled out of Tilly. He'd flipped her over onto her stomach so that her flaming red ass was clearly visible. Kneeling again, he took a minute of fiddling around to find her hole, then shoved brutally back inside her. He virtually shouted as he buried his dick. Laying on top of her, he started pounding away, rutting deep inside her. I lost track of time, entranced by the scene. Henry's body shook and trembled. He wrapped his arms around Tilly, covered her mouth and nose with one hand, and fucked out his orgasm in a series of short, hard jabs. When he was done he pulled out and turned over, staring at the ceiling. "That's it," he gasped. "I'm done. She fucking broke me." "We're not done till I say we are." He turned his head and stared. I flipped Tilly over, fascinated by the way her daddy's cum oozed from her red, swollen snatch, and buried my face in her cunt. I licked and sucked as much of Henry's spunk out as I could. I kept it in my mouth, shuffled over to him, and kissed him, spitting the mix of cum, juice, and lube onto his greedy tongue. He swallowed it down like a good boy. "*Now* we're done," I said.