Incest novels/Dating

I. A Father-Daughter Date

My daughter had a date with me.

I rarely spend time alone with my daughter, let alone on a date. However, it was she who suggested it. She said that dating was a popular topic among her classmates lately, and even her best friend Sarah had a date. She said to me, "Daddy, can you ask me out? I want to try what dating is like."

I was a little taken aback. Kids these days, so young and already dating like adults?

"Daddy, do you know what dating is?" I asked my daughter.

"Daddy, of course I know. Going to the movies, eating ice cream, popping popcorn, and..."

"Okay, this Saturday, Mom has to work, so I'll go on a date with you."

"Great! Thank you, Daddy!" She was overjoyed, hugged me, and planted a wet kiss on my lips.

I wiped the saliva from my lips and looked at her.

She said, "Let me tell Mom."

I said, "No need. Let's keep it a little secret between us, and not let Mom know. That will make our date more fun."

"Yes! Then let's pinky swear," Armanda thought it was a good idea.

Armanda was beaming with pride. She skipped back to her bedroom, giving me a wink as she looked back.

I thought to myself, my little darling has suddenly grown up. But looking at her figure, she's still a little girl.

I didn't think much of this date, just a typical father-daughter "date." But after a few days, I felt like I had needles pricking my nerves. I felt uneasy, and it felt very strange. Usually, I never take my promises to my daughter to heart. This time, I seemed to be looking forward to the date.

I started paying attention to Armanda's behavior. Children always want their father's attention, but ever since we agreed to go to the movies together, her expression and behavior have become strange, always trying to get my attention. On Friday, she said she was going to a school activity after class. When she came back, I saw her furtively carrying a large bag and a small bag of things. I asked her where she had gone, and she smiled and told me I would find out tomorrow.

On Saturday, she locked herself in her room all day and wasn't ready to go out. I glanced at the clock, impatiently knocked on her door, and asked if she could go out yet. I shouldn't rush her when she's on a date with a girl.

She replied from inside the room, "Almost there, almost there," and then the door opened, revealing her wearing a spaghetti-strap dress, stockings, and high heels. She was wearing lipstick, and a waft of perfume wafted over. She wanted me to look more mature; this was an adult's outfit, and overly sexy, really not suitable for her age. How old is she? ...

She lowered her head, looking very shy, and I couldn't help but scrutinize her. What was this little girl up to?

I said to her, "My sweetheart, you're very pretty!"

"Daddy, you're teasing me," she pouted again.

These were my innermost thoughts.

She consciously adjusted her shoulder straps and neckline. She was still a child's size, unable to make the wide neckline of her dress lie flat against her chest. And in that fleeting moment, the lace trim of her bra beneath the neckline suddenly appeared.

"Daddy, can we go now?"

When Amanda hooked her arm around mine, her small figure, barely reaching my shoulder, pressed against me…

a long-forgotten desire welled up from the depths of my heart. I couldn't believe this chemical reaction had occurred. Yet, it felt so real.

My premonition was that tonight would be a special night.

…

II. Springtime in the Theater

Arriving at the movie theater, I found myself facing a father's choice. All the movies showing tonight were unsuitable for children. One was erotic, with numerous nude scenes and explicit sex scenes—I couldn't watch this with my daughter; another was violent, with fighting from beginning to end, a disgustingly cruel plot that would affect a child's psychology; and the last was a ghost story—Amanda was afraid of the dark and ghosts, and I was afraid of frightening her.

Amanda stood at the ticket counter, looking troubled. She tugged at my hand and asked, "Daddy, which movie are you taking me to? People are starting to come in, aren't we buying tickets yet?"

"Sweetie, look, I have a problem. There are three movies, and I don't know which one to choose."

"Daddy, you should choose a movie suitable for a date."

That was a good idea. A first date, which one should we watch? Those erotic movies are suitable for couples who are compatible, so let's watch a ghost story. With me by her side, my daughter will be braver.

Entering the theater, Amanda held my hand, acting like an intimate lover, so the ticket checker at the door wouldn't suspect she was underage. Of course, there were no children in the theater. Some people occasionally looked up and saw us, an older woman and a younger woman, on a date, their eyes filled with a question mark. Were they having an "age-gap relationship"?

We casually found our seats and sat down…

I don't know if we chose the right movie. As soon as the movie started, my little girl whispered in my ear that the men in the row in front of her were blocking her view. It wasn't anyone else's fault; it was just that my little girl was too small. Movie theater seats have been improved now, as comfortable and spacious as a sofa at home. Amanda sank in so much that she couldn't see the screen. So I let Amanda climb onto my lap and sit on my knees. Father and daughter, no one minded. Looking around, everyone was engrossed in the movie, except for those questioning eyes that kept glancing our way.

At first, we were all watching the movie, but then we couldn't take it anymore. Those suddenly appearing, hideous ghosts terrified Amanda, making her scream. She clung tightly to me, burying her face in my chest, too scared to watch. As her father, of course, I had to comfort her. I hugged her tightly, gently patting her back, and said, "It's okay, it'll be over soon."

A two-hour movie won't be over in a minute. Amanda glanced up at the screen every now and then, and whenever she saw a scary scene, she would hide in my arms. She said, "Daddy, tell me what's going on?" I said, "Don't be afraid, nothing's happening, nothing's happening."

Amanda whispered in my ear again, "Daddy, I'm a little cold, can you hold me tighter?" This daughter loves to dress up, and she was only wearing a short off-the-shoulder dress. Given the eerie atmosphere of the movie, it's no wonder she felt cold. So I held her tighter, hugging her more closely. Our bodies were pressed tightly together. I felt a warmth emanating from my body, flowing through my daughter. I asked her, "Are you warmer now?" She said she felt very warm, and then she started kissing my chest.

Her little hand unbuttoned one button of my shirt and slipped inside. As I gently stroked her back, she rubbed my chest. I felt the back strap of her bra through the fabric. It was a strapless bra, meant to match her thin-strapped short skirt. Actually, it had no straps at all, just two thin, transparent plastic strings, like fishing line, holding it together.

I hadn't intended to investigate what kind of underwear she was wearing, but my hands were too nimble, her clothes too thin, and the feeling was simply too wonderful. I couldn't resist, and my hand greedily caressed the area near her buttocks.

Adama seemed to know my intentions; just as my hand was about to place on her bottom, she shifted her body, changing our position so that my large palm could cover a section of her buttocks. The skirt was too short; sitting on my lap, it didn't cover her bottom, so I almost touched her panties! However, the shape of those panties was already imprinted on my palm!

Good heavens! This is my daughter's bottom. I couldn't resist touching it, greedily exploring its exquisite beauty, like being in the seventh heaven... No matter how thrilling the scenes on the screen were, they couldn't attract me anymore!

I closed my eyes, savoring the closeness with Amanda, nestled together, enjoying this sweet sensation I'd never experienced before. She kissed my shirt until it was wet, the fabric clinging to my chest, bringing my skin even closer to her lips. I was like a drunkard, completely out of control!

This little rascal, spending all that time in the room just to get dressed like this. Did you think I wouldn't know what she was wearing underneath? Without even taking off her skirt, I could tell by touch that she was wearing lace-trimmed panties under the short skirt, different from the usual girly panties she wore. I didn't even need to see them to guess they were the sexiest kind. Her meticulous preparation, inside and out, was all for this date.

This date, now, was a far cry from the original father-daughter date we'd talked about. We both seemed to have some anticipation, not wanting the date to end before it was over. But what could happen next? I couldn't say. Nobody could say!

I didn't know what Amanda, so young, was thinking. In the dark movie theater, by the dim light of the screen, I secretly watched her. She seemed to know I was watching her, tilting her innocent face up to look at me. She seemed to enjoy this intimate moment between father and daughter, and we smiled knowingly.

The plot took a sharp turn, reaching its end. When the lights came on, she would leave my embrace, and this beautiful time would come to an end.

Were we willing? I struggled with this thought. And what about Adama? Did she understand what we were doing? As the father, I knew it was wrong. Father and daughter embraced like lovers, and I was secretly touching her body—parts a father shouldn't touch—unbeknownst to her. I even heard people in the rows in front and behind me gossiping about me, saying that the man was over thirty and was dating a minor! Look, that little girl was less than twelve… And another part of me was completely absorbed, passionately involved with what I considered the most alluring and sexy girl. I believe other men would be jealous of me for having such a romantic date with my daughter.

III. Unconsciously,

we didn't understand what we were doing. The theater lights came on, but we were still lost in the moment, unwilling to leave. Amanda's face was pressed against my chest, and she said sweetly,

"Daddy, our date was so wonderful, don't let it end now. Tonight, stay with me, just you and me."

I didn't want it to end here either. A wonderful feeling was forming between Amanda and me, drawing us very, very close. I hoped that Amanda and I could continue to grow closer with that feeling; I wanted to know where we could go together. If this feeling was lost, it might never come back. So I said to her,

"My sweetheart, where do you want me to take you?"

"Daddy, you know. Just don't go home."

I didn't really know. The theater was empty. I took Amanda's little hand and walked out of the theater; the lobby was deserted. Amanda was thinly dressed, and the theater's air conditioning made her stiff with cold. I gently stroked her face and asked if she was cold. She took my thumb and sucked on it like a candy lollipop. The sucking motion made my breath quicken. I felt I could touch her lips with that thumb, so I gently pressed it against hers, and it gently kissed me. I could almost hear her heartbeat. I leaned down to see her clearly. She nestled affectionately into my arms, and my heart pounded wildly. As our faces met, our lips almost touched, but in that fleeting moment of light contact, sparks flew.

I thought, is Amanda too young? Should I wait until she's older before kissing her? But I've kissed her since I was little, and I've never felt this way. What's wrong with kissing her now? Is it fear of this wonderful feeling? Good heavens, we're on a date! If this beautiful moment slips away, it'll never come again. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Who cares if she's my daughter, or how young she is? I can't help but treat her like my little lover, wanting to taste the pleasure of kissing her.

Madda was actually looking forward to my kiss. Every touch I gave her was a woman's response. As soon as I put my arm around her waist, she closed her eyes and offered her cherry-like lips. I held her and kissed her. She actually knew how to kiss! From the sweet smile on her face and the excitement she exuded, I knew I had done the right thing. Her teeth parted slightly, and as soon as our lips met, she stuck out her tongue, meeting mine. Once I kissed her little mouth, I didn't want to stop.

Because if our lips parted, I wouldn't want to explain to my daughter why Daddy kissed her. We wouldn't be like father and daughter, like lovers. Could she explain the difference? Was this what she wanted? To my surprise, she hugged me and said first,

"Daddy, I thought we'd kiss during the movie."

"Little rascal, we're watching a horror movie. I thought you'd be terrified."

"Daddy, I thought you wouldn't kiss me..."

"Daddy, you're the sexiest and most charming girl I've ever dated. I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, but I was afraid the occasion wasn't right, and I was afraid you wouldn't agree."

"Daddy, you're more romantic and caring than other boys. You gave me the sweetest first kiss. Next time, you should take me to see some romantic movies; kissing will be easier then, right?"

"That's a good idea. You can decide what movie to watch next time."

I felt relieved. But what I cared about wasn't what movie to watch next time. It was where I wanted to take my daughter. We'd kissed, and now we were like a couple holding hands on a date. My heart was beating faster and faster. My daughter had actually made my heart flutter. We walked and talked, my steps leading me to the entrance of an elegant hotel. I stopped, hesitating for a moment. Amanda, however, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the lobby.

It took a lot of courage to run to the front desk and ask for a room for the night. Amanda couldn't wait to go up and see how big our room was. The receptionist glanced at us, watching us like lovers, hand in hand, running into the elevator. In the elevator, we couldn't wait to kiss, and she returned my kiss without hesitation. I found her little tongue, soft, smooth, and sweet. We sucked on each other's lips, tasting the fragrance and sweetness of her mouth. I smiled knowingly; I used to call her my sweetheart, and she really was that sweet.

As soon as the door closed, I tensed up. Amanda stood there, unsure how I would treat her. Her face betrayed her thoughts. I held my breath, staring at my daughter. She looked at me expectantly. So, the only thing stopping me was myself. I looked at her, at her innocent, naive little girl. It was no use; it couldn't extinguish the fire of desire within me. I reminded myself that she was my daughter, my own flesh and blood, that I couldn't touch her, but it was no use. My eyes were fixed on only the sexiest girl I'd never dated. God wouldn't forgive me.

I embraced her, and she threw herself into my arms. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her face buried in my chest. I should have stopped there, but I couldn't. Involuntarily, I watched my hands pull one of the thin straps of her dress to the side. Amanda looked up at me, letting me expose her. Watching me pull down the other strap as well. The dress began to fall, and I carefully pulled it down, revealing her sexy lingerie. I swear, I'd never seen a woman's lingerie more alluring than Amanda's. Impossible; her body wasn't fully developed, she didn't yet have a figure. But I just wanted her so badly, I wanted to go home right away, divorce my wife, and marry Amanda.

IV. The Virgin's First Time:

Father and daughter faced each other, undressing. Amanda was only wearing the sexy lingerie I hadn't yet removed, her eyes fixed on me as I took off her shirt and trousers. I watched her gaze, wondering if she was frightened by my large penis encased in my briefs. That thing was like a monster, transforming into a colossal beast, ready to break free and pounce on its prey.

"Amanda, are you scared?"

She shook her head.

I was afraid. Our relationship was about to enter a new phase, and everything would change. I wanted her to be afraid. She said she wasn't afraid because she didn't know what to be afraid of. But I knew I was her father. I would ruin my life, ruin her life, and destroy my marriage.

I couldn't wait any longer; I had to kiss my little lover. Once our lips met, they were pressed tightly together, inseparable. All my worries and inner struggles vanished. I wanted her no matter what. Adama must have felt my desire and love for her. We were like Aladdin and the little princess, flying on magic. What the world thought of us didn't matter. We only knew that we lived for each other.

I picked Adama up, her arms wrapped around my neck. One hand supported her back, the other slipped inside her thong, cupping her little bottom and gently squeezing it. Adama knew what we were about to do. Couldn't she know?

What we were going to do was in bed. I carried Amanda to the big bed and gently, tenderly placed her in the middle. Then, I took a deep breath and quickly pulled down my underwear. My incredibly aroused penis, freed from its final restraint, felt a little lighter. I climbed onto the bed, lying on my side next to Amanda. I stopped thinking about anything else, only about making love with Amanda.

Before undressing Amanda completely, I kissed her again—her face, her hands, her shoulders, and her toes. She trusted me completely, surrendering herself entirely to me. She looked at my hands, unhooked her bra, and then pulled down her thong. My little girl was completely naked, just like me.

When she was little, I used to bathe her and bathe with her in the tub. It felt completely different from this. Back then, I touched her and played with her; now, I caressed her, arousing her desire for me. Her little nipples were already erect. She tried to touch mine, and they were just as hard. I took her little hand, letting her feel the desire in her nipples, and I let her palm press against my chest. At

Amanda's age, could she understand why her father was so infatuated with her? Why he caressed her so tenderly and kissed her? I wish Amanda didn't understand, because she had never experienced anything like this. She just lay on the bed, her snow-white skin releasing a color that burned me. My huge thing between my legs, nowhere to hide, danced before her eyes. She reached out her little hand and caught it. The moment my thing landed in her hand, our relationship broke down. Because of that thing, she became my daughter, and from there, she became my little lover.

I didn't care if my thing was too big, or if her little pussy could accommodate it, and I inserted it inch by inch into the deepest part between her legs. Amanda closed her eyes, pretending to enjoy it. What was she thinking? Was she thinking about the pleasure of intercourse or something else? Her virginity had to be torn apart by me, that I had to be completely absorbed into her body for the pleasure to be felt. My little lover had never done these things before, I knew that. This was her first time. She was willing to give me her first time, to let me love her.

I told her to hold me tight, and then to relax, actually I was just as nervous as she was. I was making love with my daughter, and she trusted me so much, giving herself to me. I pushed gently, I couldn't believe that when I went all the way in, she could swallow me completely. I reached an obstacle, bumped a few times, and stopped there. I heard my sweetheart cry out softly, finally in place. I looked, not believing my eyes, and went all the way into her little pussy.

I held her, and she opened her eyes and looked at me expectantly. So I gently thrust in and out, her eyes half-open, half-closed, looking upwards, her face pressed against my chest, kissing and licking my chest and nipples. I dared not sink any deeper, afraid of crushing her. But she fearlessly met my thrusts, letting me penetrate to the very end with each stroke.

Oh! God, I personally plucked Adam's "cherry."

V. Falling into the Trap of Love

I couldn't believe that my first date, especially with my own daughter, could be so pathetic, that I couldn't help but fall into the trap of love, turning my daughter into my lover. As my enormous thing thrust in and out of Adam, I honestly told myself, "This is terrible, I'd rather it be her in my bed every night."

Adam wouldn't let me retreat, determined to keep me inside her hot, wet little cunt. She said,

"Dad, can you stay inside me? It feels so good, even better than I ever imagined. I dream about this every night, about what it's like to be in love with the one you love. My dream has come true, Dad, you're the best boyfriend I could ever find in the world."

I couldn't believe that Amanda actually saw me as her dream lover. So what happened tonight wasn't a coincidence. But Amanda is so innocent, so lovely, and I'm holding her naked in my arms. How should I treat her? As I felt our bodies so intimately intertwined, and tried to understand what I had done to her, she asked again,

"Daddy, do you like me?"

"Silly girl, if Daddy didn't like you, I wouldn't have made love to you."

"Daddy, I love you very much." "

Armanda, you have to understand, what we're doing will make your belly bigger."

"Daddy, I already learned about sex education in school. You know what? The thing I want to do most is have a child for you."

"Armanda, no. We can't have children."

These words were a betrayal of her pure heart. But we had just made love, I had ejaculated into her vagina, and it was overflowing. What if that act of love resulted in a life...? Thinking of this, I regretted not taking any precautions. What if something happened?

That little devil Armanda noticed the trouble on my face, leaned close to my ear, and whispered, "Your period hasn't come yet," and I felt a little relieved. However, my feelings were even more conflicted because I had made a perverse love. I said considerately to my little lover,

"I hope that even before we're married, we can be together and you can have my child..."

"Daddy, this is what I dream about every night."

"But, only if it's just the two of us, and no one else, can I get you pregnant. It's not possible right now, we'll talk about it later. So, you must tell me when your period comes."

"Daddy, does that mean you acknowledge that you're my boyfriend? Will we go on dates again?"

"If you want."

"That's great!" she shouted happily.

"Sweetheart, do you really like making love with me? Aren't you afraid I'll hurt you?"

"I've done it, and I know it's better than what I've heard from others. It must be because you're better at making love than other boys. Thank you."

It was getting late, and my little lover was extremely unwilling, but I still had to pull my big penis out of her little pussy. Blood and vaginal fluid were sticky on her thighs. I told her not to look, and to lie on the bed while I wiped her clean with a tissue. My heart ached when I saw her swollen, red vulva. Ky hadn't even applied any ointment before inserting himself, and he'd been thrusting wildly, completely oblivious to everything else—he was heartless. Her beautiful clitoris fascinated me; she hadn't even grown pubic hair yet. She was a primary school student, my daughter. At such a young age, I'd already taken her—I had no shame. However, I couldn't resist the temptation and kissed her smooth, delicate skin.

We were naked, engaging in an irresistible test. I quickly picked her up, sat her on the edge of the bed, and helped her put on her bra and panties, making her even more alluring. Dressing her—how many years ago had that been? I was so stupid, letting my wife do this intimate thing with my daughter.

Her eyes were fixed on my throbbing member, without any fear. I was naked in front of her; just one look was enough to excite me. The more she wanted to look at me, the more excited she became; a strange restlessness surged from the head of my penis. Help! I'm going crazy.

My wife got home before us and was waiting for me in bed. She put on a sexy nightgown—oh no, that was her way of wanting to make love. Luckily, she was almost asleep. I pretended to sleep, lay down next to her, and waited until she was sound asleep before sneaking out to find Armanda. She wasn't asleep yet. She knelt on the bed, we embraced, and without thinking, we started kissing again. Her little lips were so sweet, her saliva like fine wine, intoxicating me. With every kiss, I received her message: how much she wanted me.

I slipped my hand inside her nightgown; her little nipples were erect. I cupped her bottom and pulled her body tightly into my arms. I said to her, "My little darling, don't let Mommy know about tonight. She'll be jealous of us, see you as her rival, and won't let you and me off the hook. Understand?"

Once Armanda and I started kissing, we couldn't separate, but there was a third party at home; we couldn't let her discover our forbidden love. My little sweetheart wouldn't let me leave until I promised to go on another date with her next week, and that I'd take her to the mall to buy her some clothes I liked her to wear on our date.

Of course, I agreed. I tucked her in tightly and then kissed her deeply on the lips—no longer the goodnight kiss between father and daughter, but a kiss between lovers reluctant to part.

VI. Burning with Desire

That night, returning home had already aroused my wife's suspicion. Especially since she wanted to have sex, while I wasn't interested. To avoid trouble, I was cautious in everything I did, fearing I might ruin my budding relationship with Armanda.

Armanda had ruined me terribly; she had become a little enchantress, and my eyes were glued to her. Her big eyes, filled with desire, looked at me, her index finger in her little mouth, sucking on it like a candy candy. I'm an adult, and my ability to resist desire had plummeted to zero. I felt uneasy, constantly thinking about how to please this little girl at home.

Good heavens! She's my daughter, so young, yet I've poured all my energy into dating her, waiting for our next date. As soon as I get off work, I go home to pick her up, and we rush to the biggest fashion store. The sales assistant tells us they don't have a children's section. I tell her it doesn't matter, as long as it fits. Armanda specifically picks out the sexiest, most alluring dresses and lingerie. She also wants to buy a bikini. That nosy sales assistant keeps telling me the styles aren't right. Armanda has her own ideas, and I ignore her, letting her give us sidelong glances.

Armanda takes a few items to the fitting room, and I wait anxiously outside, feeling uncomfortable under the sales assistants' gazes, constantly commenting on me, and whispering to my colleagues. They seem like spinsters, or even lonely, resentful women, envying us! A moment later, Armanda opened the fitting room door, peeked out, winked at me, and beckoned me to come in. What was going on? Did she want me to watch her change? Ah, watching my daughter change—the moment that made my heart pound had arrived.

Armanda wanted me to look at the panties she had chosen, asking if I liked them. She didn't yet have a curvaceous figure; she still had the figure of a little girl, and the panties made her look incredibly fresh and tender. More captivating than Marilyn Monroe's naked body. The exposed, delicate skin and two pointed nipples on her slightly protruding breasts made my mouth water; it was simply irresistible.

Armanda's upper body pressed closer to mine, her arms encircling my neck, and she raised her head to offer her lips. My parched lips lightly pecked at my daughter's lips, as if I had been holding back for a long time, then I pressed my lips to hers, kissing her passionately and thirstily, my hands stroking her petite body incessantly. One hand kneaded her small breasts, the other slipped under her panties, caressing her soft, white buttocks. My little beauty clung tightly to my neck, responding to my kisses, kissing me forcefully, gently biting my tongue as it entered her mouth.

Father and daughter shared a deep, passionate kiss in the small changing room, our tongues intertwined, sucking on each other, the indescribable pleasure making us hold each other even tighter. Ignoring whether the changing room staff would notice, we didn't separate until we were both a little breathless. I lovingly caressed my daughter's breasts, slightly parted her panties, and slipped my fingers inside, stroking her vulva.

"Daddy, not yet. I've picked out a few pretty bras to please you. But I want your opinion. A short skirt and a tank top, paired like this, without a bra, if you don't object, I'll wear this to the movies with you." Armanda said, waiting for the opportunity to taste her two little cherries again.

She put on her tank top as she spoke. Her nipples were clearly visible, and the short skirt barely covered her little bottom, giving her an innocent look. Such thin fabric and such a short skirt—her mother definitely wouldn't let her buy it. In the cramped space, she turned around so I could see her.

Armanda asked, "Does it look good? Do you like it? If you like it, buy it for me, okay?"

I said, no problem. Armanda jumped up happily, clung to my neck again, and said thank you. I took the opportunity to kiss her again, cupping her little bottom and bringing her body as close to me as possible. Her body was light and lithe, constantly writhing against mine, as if sensing how much I wanted her. I was about to pull down her panties when, perhaps due to nervousness, I lost my balance, swaying and staggering. The conclusion I'd been pondering about Armanda for a week was this: the moment I touched her, my penis became incredibly hard. Armanda seemed to know what I was planning. As I pulled down her panties, she helped me undo my pants, freeing my aching penis.

I wondered, why did Armanda want me so much? Seeing her clinging to me, kissing me passionately, recognizing me as her lover, and engaging in the intimate acts of lovers... I didn't understand why, after just one date, I had disregarded our father-daughter relationship, forgotten the age difference, and fallen deeply in love with her. It was as if a fire was burning within us, fusing our bodies into one. She closed her eyes, letting me kiss and caress her, and she clung to me tightly, making sure my penis wouldn't slip out during penetration. We must have shaken the fitting room; the sounds of our lovemaking were incessant. As we reached our climax, the saleswoman outside, growing impatient, knocked on the door and said,

"Sir, are you alright in there? Do you need any help?"

"Yes, yes, we're almost done...almost done..." I replied breathlessly.

In that instant, we both came. As my semen filled Armanda's vagina, she tilted her head back, her face glowing, making me believe that she had received the love she desired.

Armanda said, "Daddy, when we were making love just now, I felt so lucky. None of my classmates have a partner as reliable and stable as me. But I'm afraid it's just wishful thinking. Daddy, say it again, are you really willing to be my lover?"

"Little rascal, didn't what we just did prove everything? I'm telling you, I can't find a better feeling."

"I think so too. Although I've never made love with anyone else, I dare say you're the best at it."

I guess I can't explain the excitement and satisfaction I feel when making love with my daughter. I'm not just burning with desire, I'm practically consumed by it.

We tidied our clothes and hair, and casually opened the door. As we walked out of the fitting room, several pairs of eyes, filled with envy and suspicion, swept over us. They were sure we were a couple with an age gap. And they were probably searching us for evidence to confirm what we were up to in the room.

VII. Keep it up!

Another date day arrived.

I was definitely wronging my wife. To avoid arousing her suspicion, I made love to her as usual. Every time Armanda got a little closer to me, my wife would start watching our every move. She didn't understand; she was exceptionally strict with her daughter, only pushing her into my arms. The more I tried to hide it, the more exposed my embarrassment became. Armanda had replaced her mother as my woman. The worst part was, when she gave me a dreamy look, I couldn't control myself. She was so young, how could she know how to control a man's heart?

Armanda said she wanted to watch a Disney cartoon, which I found more absurd than watching porn. She sat on my lap, watching and laughing like any other child. You see, she was wearing an extremely revealing short skirt and tank top, her little bottom pressing against my manhood. In the light and shadow of the screen, risking being seen by others, I caressed her thighs, even reaching into her panties to stroke her smooth mons pubis. Finally, the movie ended.

Of course, without saying anything more, we headed to the hotel. I booked a room at the hotel early in the morning to avoid the hassle and embarrassment of last time. The receptionist seemed to recognize us, treating us like regulars. She said the room from last week was available and asked if we wanted it. I asked Armanda, and she said yes.

As soon as Armanda entered the room, she started taking off her clothes, wanting to have a race to see who could get naked first. Of course, she did. Looking at my erect penis, she covered her mouth and said,

"Daddy, it's gotten bigger again."

"Really? You didn't see it clearly last week, did you?"

"You let me see it clearly. I've never heard of a dad who lets his daughter see it so clearly. And I can hold it in my hands and touch it. It makes me happier than I ever imagined in my dreams. I'm such a lucky girl, Daddy, don't you think?"

Armanda's words surprised me. I still didn't understand what thoughts were running through her little head. How could I have become her dream girl in her eyes? I wish Armanda wouldn't grow up, but I know that in the blink of an eye, she'll become a graceful and captivating young woman. I fell in love with Armanda without even realizing it. This grown man has absolutely no self-control when it comes to a little girl, my own daughter's body. I didn't consider Armanda's age, or whether sex would be a problem for her. I didn't care how big her breasts would grow, how much her little bottom would weigh, or whether her little penis could fit my big cock. I couldn't help myself and buried my face in her arms—serves me right.

Armanda looked at me and said, "Daddy, I also want to tell you that I feel like the luckiest girl in the world because I have a lover who loves me the most, and that's you. I know you love me so much and want me so much, and I'm so excited I could fly."

"Baby, yes. We really love each other. Every night I want to run into your room and make love with you. But we can only do it once a week."

My cock, pointing to the sky, was impatient; it was swollen and about to explode. Lust surged from there to my head. I wrapped my arms around Armanda, my little girl, and my lips and fingers licked her all over. Of course, her clean, hairless mons pubis was a place my tongue didn't want to leave. Armanda wasn't satisfied with just kisses and caresses; she also wanted to use her skills, stroking my nipples, thinking I would have the same reaction as her. Then came a wet kiss, tongues entwined. She was so eager that I had to push harder, rubbing her skin until it felt like it was on fire.

The reactions I felt on Armanda's petite, tender body were like a woman's, not at all like a girl who had only made love twice. I cupped her little bottom, gently lifted her up, and inserted my penis into her vagina, checking if standing was feasible. I discovered that Armanda knew how to cling to me, coordinating with my thrusts, creating a beautiful scene of lovemaking. Hot semen spurted out deep inside her, then flowed down my inner thigh from the juncture of our genitals.

So pleasurable! I had never made love like this before, only with my little daughter.

As we walked hand in hand from the hotel lobby onto the street, we noticed the receptionist giving us special looks. The servants cleaning the room would search the bed and the bathroom for traces of our intimate moments. Have you ever seen lovers in the throes of passion? Do you see the love and sweetness in their expressions? I saw it on Armanda's face. And me? Before returning home, I couldn't hide my longing for my young lover. So, they must have guessed that we were an illicit couple, an illicit pair of lovers.

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