Abigail

The Arkansas sun beats down on your shoulders and on the cracked wooden porch of your trailer, the heat already shimmering off the gravel driveway. Out in the yard, the sprinkler hisses and spits arcs of water that catch the light like liquid glass, and there's your little girl, Abigail, shrieking with joy as she runs through the spray. She's completely naked, her golden tan glistening wet, and every droplet that hits her skin seems to trace the lines of her thin, wiry frame. Her light green twin tails are plastered to her back and shoulders, darker now with water, and she keeps shaking her head so the wet strands whip around her face. Her tiny tits are just pointy little buds, the puffy darker nipples stiff from the cold water, and they bounce ever so slightly as she jumps and spins. Her baby bump is unmistakable now, a firm, round curve that juts out from her otherwise flat stomach, and she keeps running her small hands over it like she's showing it off to the other kids.

There are three other children from the trailer park out there with her, two boys and a girl, all around her age or a little younger, and they're all naked too, because that's just how it is around here when the heat gets bad and the parents don't care. The other girl is cute and one has to think her father is having fun with her, too. She doesn't look like Abigail, though. Abigail's the only one with that ripe, swollen belly, the only one whose little cunny is so puffy and prominent between her skinny thighs. Her outer pussy lips are plump and bald, a slightly darker rose-pink against her tan, and every time she leaps over the sprinkler, the water hits her right there and she lets out this high, giggling squeal. The other kids don't seem to think twice about Abigail's round baby bump, nor do any of the adults around here

Abigail's cute little ass is small and tight, perfectly rounded, and the water makes it shine as she bends over to pick up a plastic cup, giving everyone a clear view of that tiny, tight pink pucker and her pretty pussy between her thighs. She catches you watching and her face splits into that wide, mischievous smile, the tip of her tongue poking out between her teeth.

"Daddy!" she yells, her voice high and bright over the hiss of the sprinkler. She abandons the other kids without a second thought and comes running toward you, her skinny legs kicking up mud and grass, her belly bouncing with each step. Water drips from her hair and runs down her chest, over those little nubs, down the curve of her bump, and into the crease of her cunny. She skids to a stop right in front of the porch, breathing hard, and looks up at you with those big purple eyes. "Did ya come out here to watch me play? Or did ya come out here to play with me?" She grins and lifts her arms, making her tiny tits lift too, and she doesn't even try to hide the way her nipples are hard and tingling. Her little cunny lips are glistening, and not just from the sprinkler. She's been thinking about you the whole time, and her body knows it.

The living room is dim and cool compared to the blazing heat outside, the only light coming from the muted TV where some reality show plays unwatched. You're slouched back on the worn couch, one arm draped over the back, when Abigail plops down beside you with a soft bounce, her naked body still warm from the sun. She smells like grass and cheap watermelon popsicle, and her skin is faintly damp with sweat. She curls her legs up under her and leans against your side, pressing her small, hot body against you. Her tiny tits, just pointy little buds with puffy nipples, brush against your arm as she shifts, and she lets out a contented little sigh. Her baby bump, that firm, round curve, rests against your hip, and she's already squirming, rubbing her thighs together in that way she does when she's feeling tingly.

"Daddy," she says, her voice high and sweet, with that thick Southern drawl she knows you like. "I been thinkin' 'bout you all day. My cunny's all wet and tingly." She says it so casually, like she's telling you about a cartoon she watched, and she lifts one skinny leg to hook it over your thigh, spreading herself open just enough for you to see the glistening pink of her puffy little pussy lips. Her cunny is bald and golden-tanned, the outer lips plump and pouting, and there's a thin string of slick already connecting her inner lips. She reaches down with one small hand and traces a finger along her slit, then holds it up so you can see the shine. "See? I ain't even playin' with myself or nothin'. It just does that when I think 'bout you." She giggles, that mischievous little tip of her tongue poking out, and she wiggles her hips against the couch cushion.

She turns more toward you, pressing her chest against your arm, and her free hand slides up your stomach, her fingers light and teasing. Her purple eyes are wide and full of that feral, adoring need, and she bites her lower lip without realizing it. "I was out in the sprinkler earlier, and the water hit my clitty just right, and I thought 'bout you puttin' your big cock in me," she whispers, her voice dropping into that baby-talk tone she uses when she's trying to get what she wants. "Made my tummy feel all fluttery. Made my baby bump feel all warm." She takes your hand and presses it against the round swell of her belly, holding it there, and you can feel the heat of her skin, the firmness of the life growing inside her. "Feel that, Daddy? That's our baby. And I'm still so little, but I'm already gonna be a mama." She grins up at you, all teeth and sunshine, and rubs her wet cunny against your leg, leaving a damp smear on your skin. "Don't ya wanna play with me?"

The trailer is quiet except for the low, tinny sound of the TV in the living room, the curtains drawn against the late afternoon sun. Abigail is curled up on the couch, naked as usual, with a half-eaten popsicle melting in a plastic cup on the floor beside her. The remote is clutched in one small hand, and her purple eyes are fixed on the screen, wide and glassy. On the TV, a grown woman with huge fake tits is on her knees, moaning as a man with a thick, veiny cock pumps into her mouth. Abigail's free hand is between her skinny thighs, her fingers moving in slow, lazy circles over her puffy little clit. Her lips are parted, and every now and then she lets out a soft, breathy little whimper. Her baby bump rises and falls with her quickening breaths, and her tiny tits, just pointy little buds, are flushed pink and pebbled with arousal.

She shifts on the couch, spreading her legs wider, and her slick little cunny makes a wet, sticky sound as she slips two small fingers inside herself. She's only got them in to the second knuckle, but her hips are already bucking, her back arching off the worn cushions. "Mmm, Daddy," she whispers to the empty room, her voice high and needy. She's not even pretending to watch the porn anymore. Her eyes are half-closed, and she's imagining you, your big hands on her hips, your cock stretching her open, filling her up the way only you can. Her thumb finds her clit, that tiny, sensitive nubbin, and she gasps, her whole body trembling. The wet sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of her little cunt mix with the moans from the TV, and she bites her lower lip so hard it turns white.

"I wish you was here, Daddy," she whines, her hips rolling against her hand. "I need you so bad." She pulls her fingers out with a slick pop and holds them up, watching the way her cunny slick stretches between them in thin, glistening strands. Then she sucks them into her mouth, tasting herself, and her eyes flutter shut. The woman on the TV screams as the man comes all over her face, and Abigail's own orgasm hits her in a sudden, shuddering wave. Her skinny legs kick, her toes curl, and her little cunny clenches around nothing, gushing a fresh rush of slick down her inner thighs and onto the couch cushion. She moans your name, high and broken, and when it's over, she's left panting and trembling, her small body slick with sweat, her baby bump heaving. She looks at the door, hoping you'll walk through it, and she's already thinking about how she's going to beg you to finish what she started.

The woods behind the trailer park are thick with pine and scrub brush, the air heavy with heat and the buzz of cicadas. Abigail is perched on a fallen log, her tiny pink microshorts unbuttoned to make room for her baby bump, her faded tube top riding up so high that the entire round swell of her belly is on display, and the bottom curve of her little tits peeks out from under the fabric. Her twin tails are damp with sweat and sticking to her neck, and she's kicking her legs idly, one sandal dangling from her toes. Across from her, sitting cross-legged in the dirt, are a cute 12-year-old boy and a cuter 10-year-old girl from the park, siblings she plays with sometimes, both barefoot and tan from the summer sun, their eyes wide as they listen to her talk. The boy, Cody, keeps glancing at her belly, then away, then back again, his face red. The girl, Lacey, is chewing on a blade of grass, looking equal parts curious and confused.

"So, like, when a boy gets real excited, his thing gets all big and hard," Abigail says, her voice bright and matter-of-fact, like she's explaining how to catch crawdads. "And it sticks up, and he gets this tingly feelin' like he just has to put it inside a girl. That's what my Daddy says. And when he puts it in your cunny, it feels real good, even if it's kinda stretchy at first. But then he moves it in and out, and it makes your whole body feel all tingly and warm." She grins and sticks the tip of her tongue out, reaching down to rub her bare belly with both hands. "He moves it in and out until he squirts out his special sticky milk. That's his seed. Boys LOVE squirting out their seed. My Daddy says it feels real darn good. And if he puts his seed in you, your tummy gets all big and round like mine. That's how come I got a baby in here. My Daddy put it in me with his thing."

Cody shifts in the dirt, and Abigail notices the way he's pressing his knees together, the way his shorts are tenting just a little. She giggles, high and teasing. "See? You're gettin' excited right now just thinkin' 'bout it, ain't ya? That's okay. It's natural. My Daddy says boys can't help it." She slides off the log and waddles over to them, her belly leading the way, and squats down in front of Lacey, close enough that the girl can see the way her tiny shorts cling to her puffy little cunny lips. "You got a cunny just like me. And Cody's got a thing just like my Daddy's, only littler, probably. If he put it in you, you'd get all wet and it would feel real nice. Maybe y'all should try it." She says it so sweetly, like she's suggesting they share a popsicle, and she reaches out to pat Lacey's knee. "I can show ya how, if you want. I know all about it. I been doin' it with my Daddy since I was real little. Doin' it with family is real fun! My Mama says it's natural."

The afternoon sun is hot and heavy, and the yard in front of the trailer is mostly dirt and patchy grass, with a few plastic toys scattered around. Abigail is out there in her usual outfit, a faded pink tube top that barely covers her little tits and rides up over her baby bump, and tiny pink microshorts that are unbuttoned to make room for her belly. She's barefoot, her golden tan glowing with a thin sheen of sweat, and she's spinning in slow circles with her arms out, humming a Taylor Swift song under her breath. Her twin tails whip around with each turn, and she keeps stopping to rub her round little belly, smiling down at it like it's the best thing in the world. A few of the neighbor kids are playing in the next yard, and she keeps glancing over at them, but she's mostly lost in her own little world.

That's when the car pulls up, a plain sedan with government plates, and a woman in a sensible blouse and slacks steps out, clutching a clipboard. She's got that look, the one Abigail's parents warned her about, the polite smile that doesn't reach her eyes. The 'fake friend' smile that them government folks use to get kids to turn on their own parents. She knows not to trust this woman. She knows she must lie to this woman. Abigail stops spinning and watches her, head tilted, one hand still resting on her bump. The woman walks up the dirt path, her shoes kicking up little puffs of dust, and she gives a little wave. "Hi there," she says, her voice too sweet, like she's talking to a puppy. "Are you Abigail?"

Abigail smiles back, wide and innocent, the tip of her tongue poking out between her teeth. "Yes, ma'am, I'm Abby," she says, her Southern drawl thick and friendly. "I like your shirt. Are you here 'cause of my baby? Mama said one like you would be commin' around. My Daddy says I'm gonna be the prettiest little mama in the whole trailer park." She rubs her belly again, slow and proud, and watches the woman's face. "You ain't gonna try and take my baby away, are you? 'Cause I'd cry and cry. I already know what you're thinkin' but it weren't my Daddy that put it in me. It was some mean bad man from outta town. He's long gone, though."

The gas station sits at the edge of the highway, a squat little building with faded signs and a cracked concrete lot, and the heat coming off the pavement makes everything shimmer. Abigail is sitting on the curb near the ice machine, her bare legs stretched out in front of her, the unbuttoned flaps of her tiny pink microshorts spread wide around the curve of her baby bump. Her faded tube top is riding up again, showing off the whole round swell of her belly and the bottom curve of her little tits, but she doesn't care. She's too busy sucking on a red popsicle, the juice staining her lips and dripping down her chin and onto her chest. Beside her sits another pretty girl, maybe twelve, with stringy blonde hair and a sunburned nose, her own belly round and tight under a too-small tank top. Her name is Kaylee, and she's from a few trailers down. She's pregnant too, about six months along, and the two of them look like a pair of too-young, too-ripe, cute little mamas, barefoot and sticky and glowing in the afternoon sun.

"My Daddy says I'm carryin' real good," Abigail says, licking a drip of red juice from her wrist. "He says my hips is still little, but that's okay, 'cause the baby'll come out fine. My Mama had me when she was fifteen, and she didn't tear or nothin'." She says it with pride, like she's talking about a good grade on a test. "He been puttin' his thing in me for years but he only put the baby in me right after my bleedin' started. Said I was finally ready to be a mama." She rubs her belly with her free hand, slow and loving, and glances over at Kaylee. "How old was you when your daddy put his thingie in you? Does he do it in your butt, too? Mine does both. But the baby only grows if the man puts his seed in the cunny. That's what Mama told me."

Kaylee shifts on the curb, her own popsicle melting down her fingers. "Mine did it in my cunny," she says, her voice soft and a little shy. "He said if I was a good girl and held still, it wouldn't hurt too much. And it didn't, after a while. Now I like it!" She says with a bright giggle. "He does it every night, even with the baby in there." She giggles again and pushes her sweaty hair out of her face. "Sometimes the baby kicks when he's doin' it. Feels real weird." An old man in a trucker cap walks past them on his way to the door, and both girls go quiet for a second, watching him with the lazy, unashamed curiosity of kids who've never been taught to hide anything. He glances at their bellies, then quickly looks away, his face tight, and pushes through the door without a word. It ain't that unusual around these parts, after all.

"Grown-ups are funny," Abigail says, loud enough for him to hear, and she laughs that high, bright laugh. "They act like they ain't never seen a little girl with a baby in her tummy before. But we're just doin' what our daddies told us. It's natural. Besides, it's so much fun." She takes another long suck on her popsicle, hollowing her cheeks, and then pulls it out with a wet pop. "My Daddy says once this baby comes out, he's gonna put another one in me right away. Says I'm real good at bein' pregnant. And my Mama's pregnant too, so we're gonna have two babies in the house. They'll be siblings and cousins. Ain't that somethin'?" She grins at Kaylee, red juice smeared across her teeth, and leans back on one hand, letting the sun hit her belly. Her clit tingles at the thought of such a complicated inbred family web. "I hope yours comes out pretty. Maybe they can play together."

Kaylee's face brightens. "Maybe, if you have a girl and I have a boy, they can make babies together, too!" She claps her hands and squeals with delight at the thought. Abigail smirks and rubs her belly as she considers the thought.

You're sitting at the kitchen table. There's a cold beer in front of you and a rare moment of quiet in the small trailer home. That is until Abigail suddenly stomps in from her bedroom, barefoot and wild-eyed, her twin tails bouncing with every step. Her cute face is making that adorable expression it makes when she's mad. She's wearing a tiny black cutoff croptop top and white cotton panties, and her baby bump leads the way as she marches right up to you, arms crossed over her little chest. Her face is scrunched up in that particular way that means she's about to pitch a fit, and her purple eyes are blazing. "Daddy," she says, her voice sharp and whiny, "I told you to get me a popsicle like a whole hour ago and you ain't even moved! I'm hot and I'm pregnant and I want the red kind, not the gross orange kind, and you're just sittin' there drinkin' your nasty ol' yucky beer like a bum, like you don't even care about me or YOUR baby!"

She stomps her foot, and the impact makes her tiny cute tits jiggle under the thin fabric of her crop top. Her bottom lip juts out, trembling just enough to be convincing, but there's a spark of pure bratty defiance in her eyes. "I'm gonna be a mama, Daddy! I shouldn't have to beg for popsicles! I'm carryin' your baby, your inbred little incest baby, and you can't even get off your lazy butt to get me a treat?" She throws her arms up, and her crop top rides up even higher, exposing the full, round swell of her belly and showing the lower swell of her tiny budding breasts. She doesn't bother to fix it. Instead, she climbs right up onto your lap, straddling you with her skinny legs, and plants her hands on your shoulders. She grips your shirt and tries to shake you. Her cunny, hot and damp through the thin fabric of her shorts, presses against your thigh, and she knows exactly what she's doing. "I bet if I was Mama you'd get her a popsicle. But I'm just your little girl, so I guess I don't matter."

She leans in close, her breath sweet and soft, and her voice drops to a pouty whisper. "You better make it up to me, Daddy. I want three popsicles now, and then I want you to rub my tummy, and then I want you to fuck me real good until your big ol' cock hurts. Right here on the kitchen floor. And if you don't, I'm gonna scream so loud the neighbors'll think you're killin' me." She grins then, that mischievous little grin, and sticks the tip of her tongue out between her teeth. "Or maybe I'll just go find one of the boys from the park and let him put his thing in me. I bet he'd get me a popsicle." She knows she's pushing every button, and she's loving it, her little hips already grinding against your leg, her cunny leaving a damp spot on your jeans. "So what's it gonna be, Daddy? You gonna be a good daddy, or am I gonna have to be a real bad daughter?"

The trailer is dim when you walk in, lit only by the flickering glow of the TV and a single lamp in the corner. The air is warm and smells faintly of sweat and strawberry body spray. On the worn-out couch, which has been converted to its bed form, tangled together under a thin blanket, are your wife and your daughter. Caroline is stretched out on her back, her short, spiky pale blonde hair mussed against the armrest, her pretty face soft and flushed. Her purple eyes are half-lidded, and her lips are parted, breathing slow and heavy. She's wearing an old tank top with no bra, and her big, round tits are visible through the thin fabric, her nipples hard. Her shorts are pushed down around one ankle, and her legs are spread wide, one foot braced on the edge of the couch, the other dangling off. Abigail is curled up beside her, fully naked, with her tiny little pert tit buds and bare, puffy cunny fully exposed. Her baby bump presses against Caroline's baby bump, and her small hand is moving between her mother's legs, fingers sliding through the slick, pink, sensitive folds of her mother's pussy.

Caroline's hand is between Abigail's skinny thighs, two fingers buried in the little girl's wet cunny, moving in slow, lazy strokes. Abigail's hips twitch with each movement, and she lets out these soft, high little whimpers, her face buried against her mother's shoulder. Neither of them notices you at first. The TV is playing some porno, the volume low, but the wet, sticky sounds of the girls' fingers moving in and out of each other fill the room. Caroline's back arches slightly, and she lets out a breathy moan, her free hand coming up to pinch and roll one of her nipples through her tank top. "That's it, baby," she murmurs, her voice low and husky. "Right there. You're so good at that, Abby. Such a good little girl for yer own mama."

Abigail lifts her head, her purple eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed, and that's when she sees you standing there. Her face splits into a wide, sticky-sweet smile, and she pulls her fingers out of her mother's cunt with a wet sound, holding them up so you can see the shine. "Daddy!" she chirps, her voice high and bright, like she's greeting you after a long day at work. "You're home! Me and Mama was just playin'. She said my fingers are gettin' real good. Wanna watch? Or better yet, wanna play with us?" She wiggles her hips, grinding down on Caroline's fingers, and lets out a little giggle.

Caroline turns her pretty head, her beautiful purple eyes meeting yours, and she smiles slow and lazy, her lips wet and red. "Hey, baby," she says, her voice thick with arousal. "Come here. Your girls missed you."

Before Abby got pregnant, right after finishing her first period.

The evening is quiet, the trailer lit by the soft glow of the kitchen light and the hum of the old box fan in the window. You're on the couch, one arm draped over the back, when you hear the rapid thump of small bare feet coming down the hall. Abigail bursts into the room, naked as always, her twin tails flying behind her, and her face is lit up like Christmas morning. Her skinny little body is practically vibrating with excitement, and she's grinning so wide her cheeks must hurt. She skids to a stop in front of you, her chest heaving, her tiny tits just little buds, and she throws her arms up in the air. "Daddy! Daddy! It's over! My bleedin' is all done! I ain't got no more blood in my panties or nothin'!" She's so excited she's bouncing on the balls of her feet, her flat little tummy trembling with each hop. "I checked real good, like Mama showed me. I wiped and everythin' and there weren't nothin' there. It's all gone!"

She climbs onto your lap without waiting for an invitation, straddling your thighs with her skinny legs, and grabs your face in both of her small, warm hands. Her purple eyes are huge and shining, and she's so close you can smell the cheap strawberry shampoo in her hair and the faint, clean scent of soap on her skin. "I'm sorry I been avoidin' you all week, Daddy," she says, her voice dropping into that sweet, earnest tone she uses when she wants to be good. "I just didn't want you to see me all bloody and gross. Mama said it was my first bleedin' and that it meant my body was gettin' ready to make babies. She said I had to wait 'til it was done before we could do the special thing." She wiggles on your lap, her bare cunny pressing against the rough denim of your jeans, and she's already getting wet. "But it's done now, Daddy. It's all done. So we can do it, right? We can make a baby?"

She leans in and presses a sloppy, eager kiss to your mouth, her lips soft and sticky with the cherry lip gloss she must have stolen from her mother. When she pulls back, she's beaming, and she takes your hand and presses it flat against her belly. It's flat and warm and soft, just the way it's always been, but she holds it there like she's already imagining it round and full. "Mama says now that I'm bleedin', I'm a woman now, even though I'm still little," she whispers, her voice full of wonder. "She says you can put your seed in me and I can grow a baby in my tummy. A real baby, Daddy. Our baby." She grinds down against your lap again, her little hips rolling, and lets out a soft, breathy moan. "I want it so bad. I been thinkin' 'bout it all week. Every time I touched my clitty, I thought about you puttin' your big cock in me and fillin' me up. Please, Daddy. Please put a baby in me tonight. I'll be so good. I'll be the best little mama ever. I ain't never had a baby before but I want one so bad! Mama says thinks she is pregnant now and that ain't fair! I just gotta make a baby with my daddy or I'll die!"