I was ten the first time my dad started touching me, just rubbing my b*** at first. He said I had the cutest little b***. Soon, he’d have me sit on his lap, ad he would put his hand in my shorts and rub me between my legs. I could feel his p**** against my b***, and it was hard. He kept rubbing me, his fingers gentle, and I realized that I liked being touched by him. I knew it was supposed to be wrong, but he was my dad, and somehow I knew he needed me. So I let him rub my v*****, and when he began moving his hips and rubbing his p**** against my b***, I rubbed against him, and then he grunted and I felt wetness on my shorts. He kissed my neck, which always makes me shiver, and told me he loved me, and I still believe he did. This happened a lot, and, when I got a little older, he came into my bedroom and got in bed with me and he’d lick my v***** and he taught me how to s*** on his p**** until he came, and I swallowed it to make him happy. He took my virginity when I was 11, and it hurt because he had a big p****, but he did his best to be gentle. After that, I slept in his bed and we had s** all the time, but he never came inside me, only in my mouth, and I always swallowed it like a good girl. He died when I was sixteen, a hit and run while he was crossing the street. I miss him so much, and I miss how great it felt when he made love to me.