Virginia Ryder - Little Courtney_s Family Secrets

It had taken many nights of off-and-on effort to finally get my dad's big dick into my tight little asshole, but it was worth it. If getting fucked by my father excited me at that young age, getting fucked in my hot asshole by my own father, his dick entirely buried in my butt, excited me even more.

I always came extra-hard.

Between traveling with him during the summer months, I'd even spent time at home, working my fingers and other well-lubricated objects into my butthole as 'homework,' gradually stretching and opening myself up back there.

Also, the moment I had an orgasm during backdoor sex, my asshole and slick butt-cheeks always tightened spasmodically to squeeze every drop of hot cum out of my dad's thrusting cock!

We both loved it.

“Daddy, I can feel you coming in my asshole!” I'd pant each time. “But keep cornholing me until I come, too!”

See? I loved that word. And I loved being cornholed.

I loved my father, too-that's why I let him do such dirty things to me!

Actually, everything about anal sex with my dad got me insanely excited, even when he sometimes pulled me across his lap in my fake schoolgirl uniform, flipped up my plaid skirt and spanked my bare little ass (on both firm cheeks!) until it was stinging and red.

“That really hurt!” I'd complain.

And so he'd rub my ass all over with his strong hands to make it feel better, squeezing each reddened cheek gently, until-instead of the pain-all I could think of was his hands on my bare bottom. Then, after probing into my slippery pussy and my asshole from behind with a finger or two, we'd both slide down onto the floor.

Then he'd bend me over the chair he'd just spanked me on, lubricate me back there with some KY or Vaseline, and fuck me in the ass again!

Like, really hard and fast.

All in all, thinking back, I had no real complaints.

Things got much more interesting that summer I turned 11-years-old and traveled to see my father in Elgin, Pennsylvania. I knew I'd be spending more time in his bed (and on his floor) than mine. But we also knew we needed to maintain the illusion we were a normal father and daughter.

Even the groaning sex noises I made when my dad fucked me had to be kept to a minimum.

And I had to wear at least my panties and my new training bra if I was in his room when housekeeping walked in. I'd act like I was his dumb kid innocently watching TV who didn't realize the sexual implications of an 11-year-old girl in her skimpy underwear in a motel room with her handsome dad.

By then, though, I was mainly my own father's little whore and we loved every sick minute of it.

My budding breasts were (finally!) two firm little handfuls, my rubbery pink nipples as big as quarters and the pointy tips almost as sensitive as my cunt. I absolutely loved having them sucked on.

As for my crotch, my beginning pubic hair was very fine, the whole of it merely a wisp of soft, tiny curls at the top of my deep slit. By deep, I mean, I could easily take my dad's entire cock into me.

With all that said, however, it was still my overly sensitive clitoris that demanded my full attention. My cunt's slick outer lips were naturally pouted-open to expose the fleshy hood over my little clit, my clit itself protruding out even farther (often until it was entirely exposed!) during certain excitable moments.

Excitable moments, I should mention, that occurred so often as to keep me in a near-constant state of sexual arousal. In other words, even at that young age, I was always wet and seriously wanting it. Sex.

And although my entire cunt (and my rubbery nipples and little asshole) all reacted instantly to any attention whatsoever, my clitoris was the true center of eager response for any lewd thoughts or physical sensations I had.

At that immature age of 11-years-old, in fact, I reasoned it was the protruding nature of my clit (causing it to be squeezed by even my smallest normal movements) that kept me so sexually aroused and unable to say 'No' to any opportunity for immediate sexual relief.

Consequently, it was not any lack of self-control on my part, but rather my abnormally sensitive and protruding clitoris that made me such a huge preteen slut!

True or not, it was what I believed. In any case, it was the huge preteen slut within me that eagerly looked forward to spending time with my father that weekend when he called me at home about it.

“What'll we do there?” I'd asked my dad on the phone. “In Elgin?”

“I've got some new friends who want to meet you.”

As always, I looked around, making sure my mother couldn't hear my side of the conversation. I knew it was going to be indecent.

“Sex friends?” I asked.

“You'll have to wait and see.”

This was more of his helping me learn that patience thing, I guess.

“Okay, Daddy,” I agreed. “But the first night I get there, how many times will you fuck me?”

No surprise, I'm sure, but that was basically the nature of the call, both of us loving dirty talk. These calls always ended, like I mentioned, with my dad and I breathing fast and masturbating at each end. Or until my mother or stepfather would yell out for me to stop tying up the goddamn phone.

My flight arrived on a Friday night. This was to be merely a weekend instead of an entire week, due to my dad's schedule.

On the long drive up from the Allentown airport, he'd stopped the rental car at an adult bookstore. While I waited outside hunched down in the front seat, he bought five XXX DVD's, two vibrators, batteries and a big tube of peach-flavored lubrication. Lately, I'd been using flavored lube to jack him off.

It was fun and it tasted good.

As we drove, I looked through his purchases and broke open the packaging.

I put the batteries into the vibrators (a big dick-shaped one and a smaller 'silver bullet'), then hid the adult videos, lubrication and vibrators in my luggage so we wouldn't be embarrassed when he checked me in.

I was in tiny jean shorts with the little turned-up cuffs around my slim bare thighs, a tee-shirt and tennis shoes. Weirdly, I remember I was wearing a white cloth sailor hat I'd gotten from somewhere, at a cute angle. I guess I was trying to be adorable.

“Daddy, do you want me to do anything for you?”

The answer was always 'yes' but I always asked to be polite. His quick smile told me all I needed to know.

“You look so adorable,” he said. “In that cute little hat.”

As soon as I undid my seatbelt, I leaned over. My slim fingers easily unzipped his pants, found his hardened cock and worked it out of his open fly. It stood straight up in my slender hand, thick and rigid, throbbing within my grip. I suddenly found myself shaky with anticipation.

After two years of incest sex games with him, I still loved making my own father come. It still excited me tremendously.

Sometimes, when he ejaculated, just the sight of it squirting out of his big dick all over the place aroused me so much, I'd come spontaneously. I really would. My pussy would be sopping wet, a virtual slip amp; slide in my underwear, with my nipples about ready to burst.

“Should I use the peach lubrication?” I asked.

“No, it's too messy in the car.”

“It'll make a mess anyway,” I pointed out. “When you come.”

He gave me a little look.

“Not if it's in your mouth.”

I smiled to myself, my slender hand squeezing his pulsing cock and already jerking up and down quickly. This was about the millionth time I'd had sex in a car with my dad, mostly jacking him off or sucking him, but we'd done lots of actual fucking, too.

He'd sometimes pull over into the dark with an urgent groan to me, just before he started to come. I'd slide over onto his lap (bare-assed, of course), his throbbing cock immediately slipping up into my wet cunt for a couple of quick thrusts only moments before he ejaculated.