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\viewkind4\uc1\pard\b\f0\fs20 When I got home from work that evening, I saw my wife in the kitchen, bent over, cleaning the table for dinner and Becka "helping" her.  Mom had on a pair of jeans and still looked good in them. Becka, however, was pulling no punches: She had her denim short-short cut-offs on and an orange, sheer silk halter top, tied beneath and under her fabulously flat tits, the knot symbolizing how tightly I had this little girl's heart tied up. She was paying attention to my wife's every move.  She planned on exploiting this woman's weaknesses and using them against her.\par
  Neither one of them acknowledged me as I entered and went to the bedroom Becka and I had slept in the night before. I could still feel the yearning, happiness and youth of her nipple in my mouth. My wife was ignoring me as much as she could because she felt hurt. Becka was doing it for a completely different reason: She didn't want her mother to know she was seducing (and in love with) her husband. Not now. Not yet. \par
  As I hurried past them, I took a quick look at Becka's tight buttocks, and although they could not be fucked just yet, I knew they were mine. So did she.  I would have liked nothing better than to approach Becka right then and there from behind as she dried silverware, hugging her and dipping my lips into the nape of her neck. Right in front of my wife. I know Becka would have giggled, turned around and given me a long kiss. That's what usually happened when I kissed her neck from behind when we were alone.\par
   It's not like Becka didn't know what those strange stirrings within her (and my) body were when we were alone, got cozy, and then intimate. All a little girl needs is to know the facts. When we began "sitting on the couch", we held eachother and kissed and chatted about romantic scenes in movies. Since she always wore a nightie, I wore something "comfortable", too; usually just a pair of nylon, dark blue running shorts. Even before she asked me what it was, Becka cradled my obvious erection in her hand, cupping it over the bulge in my shorts while we watched tv, read, drew, ate or kissed.  When we kissed, though, she would lose her focus and her hand would slide from my cock. She was too wrapped-up in the sensations of the kiss. I would have to keep replacing her hand, over and over. What an incredible kisser she was, and still is. (Any of you guys who have curious little girls with mommies who work second shift know just what I mean).\par
  I'll never forget that day, though, as she leaned on me, kissing me, on the couch, when we both surfaced after a long kiss and we both stared at the erection under my nylon shorts. I dedided to show it to her. It's always amazing when you see the look on a little (or big) girl's face when she sees an erection for the first time. It is not what you might think. It is not an expression of "What's that?" It is an expression of, "I know you. I've known you all my life and have just been waiting for you".  She had to ask, though, just to learn more. "What is it, daddy?" She touched it and curled her hand around it's bare shaft and I almost came. She was mesmerized by it. I lifted the top of  her nightie off.  "It's my penis, sweetheart." I said to her. I moved her hand up and down it for a second, but had to stop. I would have shot all the way to the ceiling from seeing those flat, little breasts converging. I knew she was my 4-year-old daughter. I also knew she would be the mother of my children. "It's smooth!" she said, gliding her hand up and down it and over it's crimson face and head. "Yes, it is, sweetie!" I told her. A man's penis gets big when he sees a pretty girl".  She then knocked me out with her next question, "Does it think \ul I'm\ulnone  pretty, Daddy?" "Yes, Sweetheart!" I answered. That's how you can tell if a man really think's you're pretty. You look at his pants and see if you can tell if he has an erection."\par
   "It's beautiful." she said, still staring at it with me. I leaned and gave her a nice kiss as she knelt beside me.  She leaned forward and kissed it right on the face. Then, playfully, she lowered her head to look at herself and spread her legs even more, saying, "I don't \ul have\ulnone  a penis, daddy!" "I know you don't, sweetheart." I said, placing my flat palm against and under her perineum. "You have a vagina." As we both stared down at her lilac-colored panties, we probably both knew what the next logical step would be.  "Can I take your panties off, sweetie?" I asked her, my voice trembling. This girl had the sexuality of a 20 year old. I couldn't believe it. She didn't even answer. She immediately leaned backward, legs still spread, springing out from a kneeling position to spread-eagle. I pulled her sexy left leg in off the edge of the couch and stood for a second. Now was as good a time as any, so I removed my shorts and she looked at her old friend as it bobbed in anticipation. I laid her legs together and knelt beside her.\par
  "I've seen your vagina before, sweetheart", I told her, "...but this time is different." We were both looking deeply into eachother's eyes. "This time is like you are my girlfriend." We both longingly looked to eachother, our hearts pounding. (To this day,  I regret not having lowered my head softly to listen to her heart at that moment). Then I asked her, "Do you know that a man's penis goes inside a girl's vagina? That's what sex is." She looked at me with more love than any girl or woman ever has, and simply stated , "That's okay, daddy." \par
  "I want to pull your panties down very slowly, sweetheart. I want to gaze at your vagina in the same way you were looking at my penis. Do you unders..." She didn't even let me finish. With a big, enthusiastic nod of her head, "Yes!" I looked at this little girl's muff from outside her waiting, nylon panties, fully knowing and expecting the long, passionate sexual relationship we would enjoy. It lay there in full feminine bravery and softness; young, vital, not afraid to take a chance on something exciting, forbidden and magical. A little girl knows that love is the only reality. I picked this little angel up and brought her directly to the bed her mother and I slept in, so that I could have better access to her vagina. The dog tried to follow us in, panting. He knew something was up. No way, fella, not this time.\par
  I shut the door behind us and turned on a soft, amber light and lit some frankincense and myrrh incense. Becka's head rested on a pillow, her waiting with only her red panties on, for me to take them off. I opened up her legs till they were a comfy spread-eagle and slid in between them. "Are you my girlfriend?" I asked her. "You know I am, daddy".  she replied, without so much as a pause. I started with very soft circles with my four fingertips on her panties, over the mouth of her four-year old vagina and clit hood. "If you want to lift your knees up, you can, sweetie".  I said. "No, that's okay, Daddy." she replied. "I'm fine." Her legs were aboslutely fat-free. Something you would see in a modeling catalog. Then, I did swirls with my nose over the same areas, pushing slightly deeper than my fingers had gone.\par
 I was fully aware that it takes time and repetition to get a little girl to respond, sexually. The same activities (or slight variations) on the same body parts should be done every day,  preferably at the same time. Her sex hormones are not flowing naturally yet, so they have to be coaxed into production by patient, passionate consistent sexual activity. A little girl also needs her whole body made love to, not just her vagina, breasts and anus, so I kissed, ran my tongue in long lines, and nibbled (with my lips) all the way from her gorgeous flat breasts, down her sides, into her navel and down to the top hem of her sexy panties. \par
Her panties had no use as far as we were concerned, though. We needed to feel eachother intensely.  A girl is supposed to be (and loves to be) seen. I ran my fingers, ever-so-softly, under the hem.  Back and forth. Slowly. And again. Sometimes you can tell a girl is not sure about you. Becka was sure about me.  I intended to wait until she was six before we fucked, but she did not even know that then. She trusted me and loved me, and I was not going to let her down. I could feel her graceful fingers on the backs of my hands as I grasped the two sides of her nylon, sheer panties. They were straight fingers, not curled.  She was not trying to stop or slow me. She only wanted to be part of it. To touch me. I wagged my tongue, back and forth, side to side, on her abdomen, under her panty hem, sensing an unbelieveable sweetness and softness as I lowered her panty, and my tongue, half- inch by half-inch. She felt my hands slip away, beneath her reach...\par
   I didn't want to ever come out from between her wide open legs, so by the time I was licking the area where she would shave her pubic hair from once she was 12, I decided to reach over to the nightstand, grab some scissors, and cut the panties off of her: one cut, straight up, for each leg.  I pulled the fabic forward, in front of her pussy, and attacked the 2" slit in swirling laps, eating vigorously.  I didn't know what her reaction would be, but soon, after about one minute, she was shreiking, "Daddy! Oh!!! Daddy! Thank you!" She actually began crying.  I knew they were just tears of excitement, though. I knew I wasn't hurting her.\par
  I knelt and pulled her little body half way up mine, lowering my mouth onto her.  I have no idea how long we were coupled like that, our first time. Time stood still for us both. Rebecca had finally exacted revenge on her mother.  It was Becka's pussy and lovely body I was making love to, she knew..,not hers.   She kept reaching for my hands as I held and squeezed her little, shapely buttocks. I took her hands and squeezed them gently.  I had planned on exercising restraint, leading her into sex slowly and gently, but I could not control myself.  If you've ever been with a little girl with that special something, you know what I am talking about.  She had the body and face that would drive any man out of his mind with passion and lust. I was also in love with her. I still am.\par
  I gave her beautiful, tiny  pussy one final lap, straight up, trailing away from it when I went over her clit hood, so as not to over-sensitize it.  I held her tightly as she shivered and cried, "Daddy, I love you so much!" She must have said that ten times. We lay there together, holding eachother, half drifting off to sleep until about 10:00 p.m. One hour before my wife would get home from work.\par
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