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The Crack of Dawn (m+f, 1st)

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  • Guest
on: August 10, 2018, 02:26:23 PM
This is a work of adult fantasy fiction.
The author does not condone sex with minors.


Dawn Miller was a daddy’s girl from the day she was born. She had no problem with her mother, they got along well enough, but she adored her father. He in turn, doted on his only daughter. As a child she was active and adventurous; inquisitive and interested; curious and involved.

Everything changed the day she turned 12, when her father tragically died in a car accident.

At 12, Dawn was still very much a little girl, with absolutely no hint of impending puberty. When she started the seventh grade she was the only girl who didn’t need a training bra. She was also the smallest girl, standing only 4-feet-4-inches tall and weighing 64-pounds.

Whether it was simply puberty’s timing or the stress of losing her father that kick-started her hormones will never be known, but in the twelve months following her 12th birthday, Dawn blossomed quickly from a little girl into a beautiful young woman.

It was a turbulent twelve months for Dawn. She needed a larger bra nearly every other month. She shot up nearly a foot and gained almost forty pounds, and every one of those pounds showed up in the right places for a developing girl.

When she walked into the classroom for her final year of middle school, she stood 5-feet-2-inches tall and weighed 102-pounds. Her bra was a size 34 and her breasts were threatening to outgrow the B-sized cups. And she was the only girl in the eighth grade who wasn’t a virgin.

Two weeks earlier, on her 13th birthday, she celebrated becoming a teenager by giving away her virginity to a 17-year-old boy she picked up at a convenience store.

When she told him where they were going to do the deed, he eagerly drove her the few blocks to the cemetery.

She wasn’t concerned about getting pregnant. She was at the safest part of her monthly cycle, and had an appointment with the family doctor for the following day. She had learned that she could get a prescription for birth control pills without parental knowledge or consent.

Arriving at the cemetery, Dawn led the boy to a grave in a thickly wooded part of the graveyard and began to undress.

The boy unbuttoned his shirt while looking at the grave marker. “Whoa,” he said, “this guy died a year ago today. Martin Miller. Who was he, anyone you know?”

Dawn tossed her bra onto her discarded shirt and started to take off her pants before saying tersely, “My dad.”

“Wait. You mean we’re gonna fuck on your dad’s grave? That’s ––” the boy stopped in mid-sentence. He couldn’t think of a word to describe it.

Dawn stepped out of her panties, laid on the grass and parted her legs before she said, “Will you just shut up and do me.”

The boy didn’t know whether he was thrilled—or creeped out. But the horny high school kid wasn’t going to say no to a free piece of ass, no matter how weird it seemed. Naked, he moved between Dawn’s legs.

As inexperienced as he was, he knew that she wasn’t nearly wet enough to enter so he rubbed the tip of his cock between her outer lips. When her body had lubricated itself, he slid in a little further, until he reached an obstruction. He said, “Shit. Are you a virgin?”

Dawn gasped in pain as the boy nudged against her hymen. With her teeth clenched she said, “Does it matter?”

Without answering, high school boy lunged his hips forward sharply, ripping apart her innocence. Once he was balls deep in her 13-year-old pussy, he answered her question, “Not any more.”

Dawn had bitten down so hard on her lower lip from the intense pain that her ripe teenage body was bleeding in two places as the nameless boy took her virginity.

When he had finished, Dawn sent the boy away. She sat up and silently looked at her father’s grave marker for a long time. Finally, sounding like a forlorn five year old, she said, “You were supposed to be here Daddy. You were supposed to protect me.”

She looked down at the mingled blood and semen between her naked thighs, and the tears she’d been fighting back all day could no longer be contained. One year after losing her father, Dawn sat on his grave, naked and newly deflowered, sobbing uncontrollably.


That night, Dawn got out a package of index cards and a file box. She noted the details of her first sexual encounter, including name (which in this case was left blank since she didn’t know the boy she’d allowed to fuck her) date, time, and place. She included other information in a private shorthand code, some of it as graphic as penis size.

By the time she finished the eighth grade, there were 46 cards in the file box. Only three included a name.

She started high school after turning fourteen and in early December she gave herself to one of her school’s varsity basketball players. Then she let him talk her into going with him to a teammate’s house where the team was having a group study session, knowing before she got there how the evening would turn out.

When they arrived, the study session was quickly forgotten and she allowed herself to be passed around like a bowl of potato chips. Eight more players took a turn between her shapely teenage legs, urged on by their teammates.

While putting her clothes back on after servicing nine horny teenagers, she could hear the boys talking in the next room.

“Fuckin’ ay, that little slut is a regular cum bucket,” a male voice chortled.

“No shit. She has the tightest little cunny I’ve ever put my dick in,” chimed in another.

“And how about those knockers? Those are some firm little boobies!” said a third voice.

“Those puppies were not little dude. I even thought about fucking those big tits of hers,” another boy said.

They didn’t know they had just gang-banged a fourteen year old girl. They were horny teenage boys and wouldn’t have cared if they had known. As a rule, high school boys don’t turn down free pussy.

Dawn found her own way out of the house. By the time she got home, her panties were a gooey mess from the semen leaking out of her. She got in the shower and noticed how tender she was down there.

That’s what happens when nine cocks hammer away at your horny little cunt, she told herself. There were also bruises on her chest where they had man handled her tits.

Because of the soreness between her legs, Dawn had trouble concentrating as she tried to reconstruct the evening, but she meticulously filled out nine new index cards and put them in her file box. Nine new cards, and only one had a name included.

She didn’t sleep well that night. Deep down she knew something was wrong and the group sex seemed to have triggered some kind of awareness, but whatever it was seemed vague and just beyond her comprehension.

§ § § § §

Two weeks later during the Christmas break, Mrs. Miller found the file box and asked Dawn what it was. Dawn gave a glib explanation about researching a school assignment, but her mother was sure that she was lying. Or at the very least not being completely truthful.

She bided her time rather than force the issue, since she really didn’t have any basis for her suspicions. After the holidays Mrs. Miller called and made an appointment for Dawn with Dr. Charles Riley, an imminent child psychiatrist who specialized in troubled teens.

The first week of February Mrs. Miller dropped her daughter off at the doctor’s office and went to the coffee shop to wait. Dr. Riley had made it clear that parents were not allowed in his sessions with the patient. He knew from experience that a teenager would never open up with a parent present.

Dawn walked into the doctor’s office and looked around. It wasn’t like any doctor’s office she’d ever seen. She noted the large sofa and the two comfy looking club chairs. Turning around to face the man, she met his eyes, then looked him over from head to toe.

She was looking pointedly at his crotch when she said in a monotone that sounded robotic, “Do you wanna fuck?”

The doctor paused as if thinking it over, then said, “Maybe later,” as casually as if she’d asked if he wanted coffee.

Dawn hadn’t waited for an answer before pulling her tee shirt off over her head, causing her bra-less boobs to jiggle wildly. Dr. Riley looked at her with no more than clinical interest and noted that she was physically well developed for her age, but what he was concerned with was her emotional development.

As if she wasn’t sure she heard him right, Dawn raised her eyes from his crotch to his face and said in the same inflection-less voice, “You can have me if you want.”

Dr. Riley almost blurted out, I don’t want you, meaning physically but stopped himself in time. The girl would have taken the blunt words as a cold rejection of herself. He spoke very carefully, saying, “I do want you Dawn, but not how you think.”

She didn’t react so he went on, gesturing to the chairs. “What I’d like is for us to sit down and have a conversation. Just two adults talking.”

She wasn’t an adult of course, and he knew that, but his words had the desired effect.

Dawn shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs, still holding her tee shirt in her hands. Dr. Riley sat in the chair across from her and said, “Well. Shall I take off my shirt or would you like to put yours on? I have to warn you Dawn, my chest isn’t nearly as pleasant to look at as yours is.

She might have smiled, but if she did he didn’t get to see it because her face was hidden for a moment as she wordlessly put her shirt back on.

“I’ll start if that’s okay. I’m Dr. Riley. I am a psychiatrist, a medical doctor that specializes in mental and emotional health, just like a pediatrician specializes in the health of children. I’m 59-years-old, married with two grown children and four grandchildren.”

He stopped and nodded to the girl as if to say, “Your turn.”

Dawn was quiet for a moment and then spoke in a voice a little less robotic than before. “My name is Dawn. I’m not a doctor. I don’t even play one on TV.”

Dr. Riley felt a small frisson of excitement. Mrs. Miller had told him that Dawn had a wonderful sense of humor which had been missing in action since the death of her father. That she had made even a small joke was encouraging.

“I’m 14-years-old. I’m a freshman in high school,” Dawn continued. Then shrugged, as if she’d run out of things to say, “I like to fuck.”

Nodding, the doctor said, “And is there a reason why you like to fuck?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Well duh. It feels good.”

“It certainly does. I can’t disagree with that, but I’d like you to think about it for a minute. Is there any other reason?” he probed gently.

She sat there for a full two minutes with a blank expression. She was remembering the conversations she’d overheard the basketball team having. Then she surprised herself and gave him an honest answer. In a voice barely audible she said, “It helps me to forget for a little while.”

In a gentle voice he said, “About your dad?”

He saw tears form in the girl’s eyes before she looked down at her lap. She didn’t answer but nodded her head just once.

“Thank you Dawn. I know that was incredibly hard for you and I appreciate your honesty. There are two things I want you to know before we go on. First, I will always be honest with you, and that’s a promise. Honesty isn’t always pleasant, but anything less is just a waste of time.”

Dawn lifted her head and looked at the man through her tears, feeling something deep inside. She didn’t know what it was, but there was something about this man that she liked, and that made her feel good. It would take a while but she would eventually be able to identify what she felt. It was hope.

Dr. Riley met her eyes when she looked up and continued. “The second thing I want you to know is this. I lost my own father when I was fourteen. I know what you’re going through.”

Huge crocodile tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down the pretty girl’s high cheekbones, but she made no attempt to brush them away. She felt as if she’d been thrown a life preserver after she’d been floundering in the ocean all by herself, sure she was going to drown.

Dawn and Dr. Riley sat there without speaking for a long time until she ran out of tears. Neither felt uncomfortable with the silence. After a time, he handed her a box of tissues and they chatted amiably about inconsequential things for the rest of the session.


In the months to come, Dawn came to look forward to their weekly sessions. She trusted Dr. Riley implicitly, knowing she could tell him all her dirty little secrets without being judged. Slowly his insights helped her to understand all the confusing emotions that had started when her dad died.

Dawn continued to have random sexual encounters, almost always with boys she didn’t know, but more and more time passed between them. Her sessions with Dr. Riley were helping her to understand why she was doing what she did, and more importantly, why she didn’t need to act that way.

Early in August, six months after beginning their sessions, Dawn had an epiphany. Dr. Riley had pointed out that it seemed as if she were trying to punish either her father, or herself. Then he had asked her to think about whether either deserved to be punished.

Later that month, a week before her fifteenth birthday, she had sex for the last time, and it was a good thing too. She had only two blank index cards left. In two years, she had been naked with 98 boys and allowed them to enter her adolescent sex—an average of just under one per week—and only 8 had names written on their index card.

All 98 boys had climaxed and ejaculated inside the most private part of her body, but she had never once had an orgasm with any of them, or even come close to having one. That physical release came only by her own hand in the privacy of her bed.

She met with Dr. Riley every week for just about a year. Dawn was barely recognizable as the same girl she had been at their first meeting. She smiled a lot and her wonderful sense of humor had returned, as evidenced during their final session early in February of her sophomore year.

Remembering their first meeting, she had teased Dr. Riley. “Last chance. Are you sure you don’t want to have sex with me?”

The look on her face was priceless when Dr. Riley replied, “I’d like that Dawn. I’d like that very much.”

Dawn sat there in shock, absolutely speechless. Her psychiatrist kept a straight face for a long time, but finally smiled and said, “Gotcha!”

Then he went on. “Every red-blooded male over the age of 12 would have answered your question in the affirmative, if they were honest. But one of the most important things you’ve learned this past year is that just because you want to do something, it doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. And doing the right thing is what being an adult boils down to.”

Dawn nodded and smiled. “I’m going to miss seeing you every week. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.”

“We’re all responsible for our own choices. I can point you in the right direction, but you’re the one who makes the decisions about your life. I’m just glad I was able to help you see yourself in a new light.”

§ § § § §

On her 18th birthday, two months after high school graduation and a month before starting college, she visited her father’s grave for the first time since she’d given away her virginity there when she was 13. Now, she hadn’t had sex for more than three years and no longer felt the need for random encounters.

She arrived late on a sunny August afternoon with a bouquet of flowers from her mother’s garden. Laying the blooms at the base of the grave stone, she sat down and relived the first 12 years of her life, when her father had been the sun around which she revolved.

Dawn smiled a lot that afternoon, laughed out loud a few times, and even cried once or twice. As the sun began to set, she stood up and gently rubbed her index finger across the letters of her father’s name. In a quiet voice she said, “I love you Daddy. I hope you can forgive me.”

It would be four more years before she had sex again, the summer after graduating with an undergraduate degree in psychology. She would go on to earn a masters degree and become a psychologist. Her mission in life was to help troubled teens, and she certainly had the background for it.

And that June night when she did have sex for the first time in seven years—it was with her new husband, on their wedding night.

She had met Seth Riley their freshman year and they had dated, without having sex, until both had a degree. She loved him dearly, but when he asked her to marry him at the end of their junior year, she made the difficult decision to tell him about her younger self before giving him her answer.

“Seth, I can’t imagine a life without you, so if you still want to marry me after I tell you about my past, my answer is yes. But you need to know about what I went through after my father died.”

And she told him the whole sordid story, starting with the day she turned twelve and lost her father. She told him about her therapist, without mentioning his name.

When she had finished telling him about those turbulent three years, they sat there without speaking for what seemed like a long time. She was starting to think he’d changed his mind about proposing to her when he smiled and started talking.

“Dawn, one thing I’ve learned is that people don’t come wrapped in cellophane like a new package of gum. We all have a past whether good or bad. But the key point is, it is the past. It can’t be changed. All that matters to me is today, the only day we have any control over. And today, right now, what I want more than anything in the world is for you to be Mrs. Seth Riley.”

Somewhere in the back of her head, a little bell was ringing. He sounded so much like Dr. Riley that she finally connected the dots. For some reason she’d never even thought about Seth’s last name being the same as her therapist. Riley was a fairly common name after all. There had been three or four Riley kids at her high school.

“Seth, are you related to Dr. Charles Riley?”

With a puzzled look on his face, he said, “Sure, he’s my grandfather. Do you know him?”

Dawn smiled even as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Yes. I know him. He was my therapist. In a lot of ways, I think he saved my life, or at least made it worth living. I can’t even imagine where I’d be today without his guidance.”

Call it karma, or fate, or destiny. Or maybe just one of those amazing coincidences that sometimes happen in life. Dawn had fallen in love with the grandson of the man who had saved her from her own path of self-destruction. They chose a wedding date for the following June.

Dr. Charles Riley, now retired, was moved nearly to tears when Dawn asked him if he would walk her down the aisle to marry his grandson. Though they hadn’t seen each other or spoken in more than seven years, he’d thought about her often. She had been one of the few unqualified success stories over his long career.

On a sunny June afternoon, Dr. Charles Riley and Dawn Miller walked down the aisle arm in arm. Long before they reached the altar, they both had happy tears in their eyes.



  • Guest
Reply #1 on: August 10, 2018, 02:33:07 PM
I always thought the crack of Dawn was where Tony Orlando wakes up every morning.   :emot_laughing:

Offline herschel

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Reply #2 on: August 10, 2018, 04:34:41 PM
The sex part, if you don't mind my saying, was a bit on the flat side; but the sentimental part, that was outta sight! Who doesn't like happy endings?!  8)


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Reply #3 on: August 11, 2018, 01:44:07 PM
Thanks Herschel. I don't mind you saying that at all. I find any and all comments helpful.

The story started out as a sex story, but as so often happens, the characters took it in a different direction.

Offline TPPM

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Reply #4 on: August 12, 2018, 12:13:27 AM
The sex part, if you don't mind my saying, was a bit on the flat side; but the sentimental part, that was outta sight! Who doesn't like happy endings?!  8)

considering the viewpoint character, and how she was viewing sex, that it was flat was totally appropriate.



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Reply #5 on: August 12, 2018, 07:01:16 AM
Thanks Tim.

You make it sound like I almost knew what I was doing... which I'm not sure I did.  The story I ended up with was quite different than the one I had mapped out in my head when I started.
« Last Edit: August 12, 2018, 07:23:13 AM by Remington555 »

Offline TheOtherDarryl

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Reply #6 on: September 30, 2018, 04:24:50 AM
A great story! Not what I expected but, enjoyable! Thanks!


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Reply #7 on: September 30, 2018, 08:20:41 AM
I love the pun in the title.  I also agree that the sexual action being "Flat" was completely in character, and made it easier to stay in the story. 

Most of mine start out with some plan, that fly right out the window once the characters have enough personality of their own.  Well, she was going to do this, but now, she would totally never do that, sort of thing.


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Reply #8 on: September 30, 2018, 08:46:25 AM

Most of mine start out with some plan, that fly right out the window once the characters have enough personality of their own.  Well, she was going to do this, but now, she would totally never do that, sort of thing.

Exactly. Characters had this bad habit of developing a mind of their own and sometimes they change everything. I'm just along for the ride so I can put their story into words.