Some Little Girls Do
You were dreaming.
You dreamed we were in our bed. You were lying next to me, facing me. You were small – a little girl – about nine years old. You could feel someone behind you – sleeping. Their arm was draped over your waist. Their scent was so familiar – like roses – like soft, feminine perfume - warm.
You reached up in the dark and touched my mouth with your small hand and said softly, "Daddy, when I grow up, can I marry you?"
I replied, sleepily, "Daughters don't marry their fathers, baby girl."
"Why, Daddy?"
"It's – um – just not customary. Besides, when you grow up, you'll fall in love with a wonderful man and you'll barely have time for me." You could hear the smile in my voice.
"No, Daddy, I'll always have time for you. – – – Daddy?"
"Shhhh. Go to sleep."
So you whispered, "Some little girls do, Daddy." And you snuggled your face into my chest. "Some little girls do."
In your dream, I wove my fingers into you curly hair. You listened to my heart beating as you drifted.
And as you rose from your dreaming, back to your young womanhood, you felt my fingers in your hair as they were when we fell asleep. When was that? And you felt the warm comfort of our bed and its familiar smells – male, female, sex. You couldn't remember getting in bed. But you could feel the wetness between your legs. And your sweet ass felt stretched and you felt so – fucked.
You smiled and squirmed. Your arm was over my waist. You pulled me closer.
"Some little girls do," you spoke softly.
I stirred, "What's that, my pet?"
You lifted your head to my mouth and answered me with a lingering kiss, your tongue teasing me as you held me – firmly. It was wonderful to be so close and so in love. You pushed me onto my back, climbed on top of me, straddling me. You lay your head on my shoulder. You were asleep in an instant, and although your weight kept me awake, I was so happy to have you there. I drew the down comforter higher over us and smiled. I contentedly listened to your quiet breathing for the hour or so 'till dawn.
As you woke up later, you smiled – memories of the night before began to sift back into your thoughts. You had been drawn to you playroom. You had danced as the mysterious oil had worked its arousing magic. You had embraced me, surrendered to me. I had come deep inside your fertile cunny as we screamed in pleasure.
You squirmed in the dim light of my room – in the deep, soft warmth of my bed – our bed. I was up – you were alone. You were sleepy and happy, and you slipped you hand down between your legs. You were still wet. You dipped your finger between your pussy lips and gently, gently stroked your clitoris.
You shivered in your pleasure and sighed, "Oh, Daddy – some little girls do."
You played slowly and easily – keeping yourself aroused and building just ever so gradually while you thought about last night. Thinking about your secret – or what had been your secret – that you had stopped your birth control. You had fucked me many times since you stopped, but last night you knew you were fertile. You thought about your Daddy making you have a baby. It was so erotic and wonderful.
You remembered crying in joy and release as I fucked you hard afterward – and how you had slid into a dreamy, happy sort-of drunkenness as you held me – so close. Perhaps it was the perfumed oil that put you in that state.
You played with your sweet pussy, looking back to the night before, and began to remember having then been wild and aggressive, riding me and taking your pleasure over and over. You remember me holding you very firmly and tying your arms back. You remember struggling and laughing and me bending you over again, pushing roughly into your ass while you screamed and came.
"Oh Daddy, I love you." Your fingers were moving faster.
You remembered how later, I carried you upstairs and helped you bathe and get into bed. You remembered how I played with you until you came again. You remembered how I entered you and put my seed deep up inside you. You were almost asleep when I did, but you remembered.
That memory pushed you to the edge in our bed that morning, your fingers pinching your clitoris.
You remembered how I had growled in your ear as I pumped my come into you – "Come. Come now." And, as if on command, you had come. It was nearly involuntary. You couldn't help it somehow.
I had purred, "Good girl, Good little girl."
You pinched your clitoris hard. "Good little girl," I had said. "Come for your daddy." And you came, remembering those wonderful moments of our love-making. So sweet. So hot.
You shuddered, gasping. "Oh, Daddy – Oh, Daddy – I love you."
Then you lay quietly. The soft warmth of our bed surrounded you. The room was quiet.
You sat up. You smiled to yourself. "Some little girls do, Daddy."
And so later on, when you went downstairs, wearing your linen nightie under your heavy kimono, you found me drinking coffee and nibbling on divine toast in the living room. I was wearing jeans and a black watch tartan Pendleton, reading the Saturday New York Times.
"Breakfast, little girl?"
You smiled and sat next to me on the couch. "Yes, please Sir."
I poured your cup. Two lumps of sugar. Milk – just the way you like it. "Divine Toast, Koneko?"
You grinned as you took the buttery toast from my fingers. Divine Toast – it was a meme of ours. To cheer you one time, I had invented an origin story... "Tell me the story, Daddy."
I chuckled, you giggled. Our eyes met. I brushed your curls from your forehead. You smiled – lovely, radiant.
"In the beginning the world was dark and without form and Goddess was bored and lonesome so she created the stars and the earth as a hobby. And she created all the creatures on the earth – large and small – but she was still lonesome. So, against her better judgment, but driven by sexual frustration, she created a man to keep her company."
You sipped your coffee and smiled.
"Now, at first all was pretty good. Even though he was smelly and unruly at times – even though he burped loudly (she tried to train him not to) and enjoyed hitting things with sticks (she couldn't understand why), he listened to her talk and he was more than willing to cavort with her whenever she wanted. And she clued him into the kinds of things she liked – so all was well – for a time.
"He was fun to invent things for. Like tea. But greatest of all her inventions – her gifts to mankind – was the invention of slicing bread and heating it over a fire to make it slightly browned and crispy. She would serve it to him with butter and honey and she called it toast. Devine Toast – the Goddess's greatest gift."
You grinned broadly – "Yes, Sir, but tell me again how womankind came to be."
"Of course – it's obvious. When the goddess got tired of man, she made a creature in the likeness of herself to keep him occupied in hopes he would leave her alone. And she called the creature woman and taught her the ways of the Divine Toast that she could ever be man's perfect companion."
We laughed. You buttered a piece of toast for me. "How am I doing?"
"My perfect companion as always, little girl."
You leaned to me and kissed my mouth. Your lips were buttery and sweet.
So the morning passed gently. We read, sitting next to each other. You rubbed my feet while I ranted about stupid politics. I helped you with your homework. You read to me (wearing my grandmother's silver glasses) out of your Women's Literature class books .
