Rocket Booster No More!

‟Remember, Kimmie-Cub,” her father called. ‟Rocket Boosters are go for Wednesday night.”

Kim groaned inwardly. It was a club for seven years old. She had loved it at seven. She hadn't been seven in years. Sometimes her father forgot that... Well, not when he had his dick slamming into her... That gave Kim an idea.

Kim still had her original Rocket Booster t-shirt. Even with her A-cup titties the shirt was far too small for her older body. Her perky nipples protested the tight cotton confines of the shirt and swelled up in puffy protest, leaving very visible bumps on the shirt. The tiny top hardly went past her mosquito-bite tits. She added a very, very small pair of denim cutoffs and checked out the result in the mirror.

‟Wish my tits were bigger... But this is not a child's body! Daddy needs to realize that.”