No the next part is the part that most sane people don't understand, I was allowing my father to bathe me up until my eighth birthday, and as most of ...ou know, a girl of eight, exhibits a lot of differences to what I did four years earlier, on the same bathing night.Being bathed at an early age, was a right of passage for a father, there was never anything sexual in it, as he still had mother, but after she had left, leaving just us, the bathing continued, but his washing lingered, as if he was. "Baby, you should try to make up with your dad," I said. "He still loves you, he is just angry." I still love him, too. I have to work up to talking to him again," she replied.We worked the days away, and talked, danced and loved the nights away. About three weeks later Dawn got up in the morning running to the bathroom. When she got back in the room I asked if she was all right. "Your daughter is making me sick," she said."Yahoo!!! I yelled.I jumped up and picked Dawn up and kissed her all. Debbie looked at the stripes on Vicky's bum and thought to herself that she hoped she hadn't caned Vicky too well.That question was soon answered when she had told Debbie to cane her hands as hard as she had been caned herself at school, then she would cane Debbie's other hand, and she had promised that utopia would follow. Debbie could only wonder at Victoria's stamina. She was so excited that her fantasy was coming true that she brought the cane down hard onto Vicky's beautiful palms and. For a brief moment, deep in the recesses of my mind I thought I could still stop this if I concentrated on who I was with. But, I quickly realized that it was the fact that I was with my own son that made this so irresistibly lustful! This very thought sent another charge through me and my need to have my son inside me became more than I could bear! I shoved my ass down into the mattress, creating just enough room between my groin and his shaft to allow the head to slip into the outer lips of.