My father began touching my body when I was about seven. We lived on a farm and me and him were always very close.
I'd often be playing on the farm, especially in the summer, and my dad would let me help him out in the fields or the goat pens sometimes. I loved it.
It started with him playing tickling games with me in the hay or one of our meadows, and he just gradually starting touching more and more of me. Eventually he got me to take my clothes off for it. I never minded, and it never felt like he was forcing me, but he made me realise that I couldn't tell mum about it.
He'd very gently rub his thumbs on my tiny boobless nipples which I enjoyed a lot. He would also start kissing them and sucking on them which felt like heaven, even though at thus point I was only about eight.
Naturally he graduated to touching my vagina but he was always so gentle. I had my first orgasm sat on his lap with his hand down my panties and my legs squeezing his fingers against my clit. It was also around this point that we began kissing like lovers.
He showed me his penis one day and I remember being utterly thrilled to see it. He guided my small hands to wanking him and the first time I saw him ejaculate I was worried I'd done something terrible to hurt him! He quickly made me realise that it felt wonderful for him and that it was what he called sperm.
By age nine (I remember I'd had my ninth birthday party like a week before) I was giving my dad oral sex. I struggled getting more than the head of his penis in my mouth but I wanted to please him. He would usually have to use his hand to bring himself to his orgasm but he loved to cum in my mouth (he made me believe that sperm was good for me).
We didn't actually have intercourse until I was twelve and we usually did it in my room when mum was out.
Fucked up memories, I know, but they still make me wet.