Having Lizvette (part 2) free porn video

I felt almost like a young man in love for the first time. I was filled suddenly with fantasies of Lizvette and I together. Back in my den, I thought of the things we could share, the things I could teach her. I thought of all the questions I wanted to ask her, the things I wanted to learn about her, the secrets I wanted to share with her. I felt my cheeks begin to ache from the smile she put on my face, just as my balls ached to be squeezed by her little hands. I thought of the feelings and sensations I knew I could give her, the pleasures I could introduce to her. I was feeling something I had known before but did not expect to know again, as I replayed Bethie's words over and over. "I think she likes you." My chest heaved with the sudden, involuntary intakes of air into my lungs, my heart tickled and my mind could think only of one thing, Lizvette. All the classic symptoms, I now remembered, of falling in love. Of pure, unbridled joy.

I could not even begin to concentrate on my work, which could wait anyway. I had chores to tend to but nothing I couldn't put off. I sat at my PC with her pictures, rubbing my dick and listening for her voice and laughter coming up from the backyard. Music. I made crops and detailed close ups from the original shots and loaded them onto my phone and my tablet so I would not be without an image of her face. I thought how nice it would be if we were to become texting and sexting friends. Maybe she would send me nudie selfies. I would show her how fat and happy she makes my dick. I would rent a postal drop box where I would leave gifts for her, panties she could model for me. My head spun with ideas of how to have something with Lizvette. Something meaningful. Something lasting and permanent. The thoughts were endless. The possibilities were limitless.

I heard the backdoor swing open followed by the sounds of their feet running up the stairs. Bethie passed by the open den door with some towels from the pool and stepped into the laundry room. "Call us when dinner is ready, daddy," I heard her say. Just then, Lizvette appeared in my doorway and asked me, "Can't I help with the grilling?" Before I could tell her I'd love to have her assistance, Bethie stepped beside her and told her, 'Um we still have that subject to discuss?" Lizvette looked at her, puzzled at what she could be talking about, then said, "Oh. That. It's not important anymore." She then looked back at me, leaning comfortably against the door frame, and smiled her tight-lipped smile. "I want to see your mad grill skills." I told her I would call her when it was time to put her franks on and she could help me burn them. "Yea!" she yelled.

They were a picture, standing together in their swimsuits, Bethie in her high-glamour fashion model suit, all boobs and leg, and Lizvette in her simple but so sexy black two-piece, so slim and feminine. "He hates people talking to him while he grills. He hates people talking to him at all! Plus we need to change for dinner. I'm tired of being wet." Bethie tugged at Lizvette's arm, as Lizvette protested loudly, "Well I'm not!" Out of my vision, I heard happy, girlish laughter and Bethie saying, "c***d, you are not right!" as they stumbled into Bethie's room. I laughed aloud with them, so happy at my fortune, so thrilled by my darling girls. I checked the time and went down to start dinner, anxious to entertain them at the table, and to watch them together. And very anxious to serve Lizvette.

. . . . . .

The girls joined me on the patio as the dinner hour approached, dressed colorfully in floral prints, almost as if they had coordinated their wardrobe. Bethie wore black shorts and a halter with shoulder straps and cups connected by a little bow tied above her deep cleavage, decorated with blue and white flowers on a black field. She knew it was a favorite of mine, showing off as it did her fit, flat tummy, beautiful skin, her tight cleavage and pushed-up breasts. Lizvette wore a little black top, very demure, and cloth shorts with little red and white flowers on a black field. Lizvette wore black slippers. Bethie was barefoot. Both wore their hair down and loose, freshly brushed. "No man has more charming dinner companions than I tonight."

Lizvette gave me her "aww that's so sweet" closed lip smile with her head tilted, as if to expose her neck for the kiss I longed to deliver. Bethie struck a favorite glamour pose, with one hip thrust to the side, her fist resting against it, and the other hand lifting her hair from the back, looking at me from the corner of one eye. She had become quite the pin up model, and I smiled my silent approval at her form. "Very nice, baby! Now could you model getting us some plates and forks?" She turned to face the kitchen and walked away with her best runway model walk, with long strides, one foot in front of the other as if walking a line, and hips swinging. I turned to Lizvette and said, "If she ever learns she can make money walking like that, I'll never get her into college." Lizvette covered her mouth with her hand to silence her laughter.

I had her franks in a pan of hot water on the grill where I had been poaching them. She noticed and said, "Oh that's so clever! Boiling them first!" She caught on quick. I told her poaching them to get them hot inside before charring the casing kept them moist and flavorful. I took them out of the pan and placed them over the flame. She said, in all seriousness, "I like them fat and juicy like that so they squirt when I bite them." She watched them cook and licked her pretty lips. I wished it were my cock she was watching, preparing to bite into for a squirt.

We took our seats at the round patio table as the sun was setting. It was a lovely late-summer evening. Lizvette sat at my left facing Bethie who sat my right. "Oh Daddy we saw Maria when we pulled in. It's been ages. She's said to tell you hello." Maria was the neighbor girl, a year or two older than Bethie, who attended a local university and lived on campus. I'd always been very fond of her. A very exciting girl herself and one I recalled as having been quite precocious in her adolescence, in certain ways.

"I always thought so much of her. Do you know her, Lizvette?" I turned to my left as Lizvette lifted the hot dog, loaded with yellow mustard to her open mouth, with the bare tip of the frank extending out of the bun. My dick twitched at the sight of her tongue lifting the frank upward into her teeth. She stopped in that pose, flashed her pretty wide eyes at me, and said, "Oh yes. I do." I sensed by her stress on the word yes that she knew more than she was willing to share at the moment. "She babysat me. But only one time." With that intriguing statement she resumed working the tip of the frank between her teeth, then at last, bit into it, releasing the juice she had said she loved to feel squirting into her mouth. Her eyes closed and she chewed slowly, savoring the flavor. "Mmm." She tapped her hand on the table as she chewed. "He makes good franks, doesn't he?" Bethie said. "Never dry. He boils them, I mean poaches them first. Then grills them. Keeps them moist."

I felt suddenly a tap tap tap on my left foot. Lizvette had removed her slipper and I felt her bare foot against my own, excitedly tapping, I even heard her anklet quietly rattle. "This is the best hot dog ever! Oh my god. Yes." I told her I was happy she was pleased. "I don't even want the bun, I just want to eat it bare. It's like its melting in my mouth." She rested the sole of her foot on mine and I wondered if she knew what she was doing. Did she think my foot was part of the table? I was barefoot too. No. She knew. I loved her playful ways, and just like every thing else she had teased me with that day, I decided enjoy it.

My phone vibrated on the grill behind me. I excused myself to check it and felt Lizvette's foot lift from mine. Yes. She knew! God I loved her. So fun and playful. I looked at the phone and saw a text from my nephew, Nathan: "Mind if I drop by tonight? Need to get out."

"Is it mom?" Bethie asked. I told her who it was. "Oh god. Not tonight, Daddy. No." I texted back that we were entertaining, tonight wasn't a good night. I asked if he was alright. "I know he's my cousin but he seems more like a creepy uncle!"

I shot a look at Bethie. "Baby, he loves you. Don't talk like that."

Lizvette prepared her second frank, mustard-smeared and, this time, bunless. Or bare as she preferred to call it. "He's an older cousin?" she asked Bethie.

"Yes. He's like 40 but thinks he's 22. I don't hate him, Daddy, but he always smells like beer and he looks too much." She had a point. I never left her alone in the room with him, for fear he would say something stupid to her and make her uncomfortable. And I always had to hide my own attentions to Bethie when he was alone with us, which only spoiled our alone time since Bethie would then keep herself well-covered. He was harmless, I and my wife believed, but not always sensible when he was drinking, which lately was most of the time. It was taking a toll on his marriage, I knew.

"But maybe he's lonely and needs a friend. Don't say no just because I'm here," Lizvette offered, generously. I felt her place the arch of her foot over mine. I looked at her and saw she was holding the frank on a fork, about to take it into her mouth again. This time she inserted it halfway into her mouth and began sucking at it. She was toying with me, I was certain. And I loved it!

"Ohhh..." I heard myself moan. "Nooo that's not why I'm saying no," I recovered. "He can't run from Connie every time they have an argument. He's lucky to have her and he needs to deal with their problems before he loses her." I looked at Lizvette, and saw her cheeks sinking inward as she sucked the mustard and juice from the frank. "She's beautiful," I said softly, watching Lizvette. "Connie is beautiful."

Bethie was oblivious to Lizvette's erotic display of frankfurter eating, I was happy to see. "Tell him to come over next month, or whenever mom and I are going to the retreat. He can get drunk in the living room then."

"The ladies retreat the church is sponsoring? My mom and sister and I are going to that! You'll be there?" Lizvette was excited at that news and the girls talked about it between themselves. All I knew was that it was three weeks from the day and I would be alone in the house all weekend. I had been dreading it, but now, imagining all the time I would have to jack off over Lizvette pictures, I quite looked forward to it. Dinner resumed with the girls trading small talk and bits of gossip. I enjoyed my steak, and their chirpy chatter, feeling happy and so content surrounded by their beauty, Lizvette's little foot resting on mine, Bethie happy and enjoying her queen bee status. I sipped my wine and watched them, and wondered at my great fortune, with my dick tingling and my heart content.

. . . . . .

After dinner, the girls cleared the table and took the dishes to the kitchen. I went upstairs to shower. I smelled of grilling and pool water and thought a shower would be a good opportunity to freshen and enjoy some stroking in assured privacy. I undressed and stood naked with my poor, starving dick dripping pre-cum, so eager for pussy after all the cruel teasing it had had. I started the shower and picked up my phone to pull up a picture to memorize. I felt again that pang of guilt at by-passing the photos of my daughter, for the first time ever, and going right to Lizvette. I held the phone to my face to concentrate on her bikini and the delicate folds of her pussy lips beneath it. I rubbed my dick just a few times and found it arching upwards, high and red, the way it does only for sex, never for everyday masturbation.

In the shower I squirted a shot of creme rinse into my palm and started stroking, remembering Lizvette's pussy under her bikini, seeing it clearly with my closed eyes. But again, that feeling of betrayal stopped me from cumming. I should be stroking to a mental picture of Bethie, I thought, a new one she had posed for today, or a more risque one she would have posed for if we hadn't had company. That had been the plan after all, at least in the back of my mind. Or was it not the guilt - Bethie was having a fun day - that made me stop, but something else? I found myself scrubbing thoroughly under my balls, between my ass cheeks, as if readying myself for a blow job from my wife. The cleaner she found me the longer and more eagerly she sucked. But I wasn't getting a BJ tonight, or any sex at all. No wife. No Bethie playtime. Still, mentally and hygienically, I was preparing for sex. With Lizvette. That was why I stopped stroking. Not guilt. I stopped because I didn't want to cum, I wanted to get clean and hard for pussy. I lathered and rinsed my nuts twice. I even shaved pubic stubble, slapping my dick to keep it up, just as if I were about to step naked into my bedroom to find Lizvette waiting in my bed, where I would want her to enjoy the sight of my clean, hard cock, ready for her mouth and pussy.

I knew myself well enough to know that I was acting on fantasy, that I would not even think about forcing myself on her, and certainly not with Bethie in the house. I carried on with my presexual ablutions nonetheless, readying myself to introduce the joy of multiple orgasms to my own fifteen year old admirer. I rubbed lotion onto my balls and over my cock where I'd shaved, splashed aftershave on my face and rubbed the residue off my hands onto my inner thighs, where Lizvette would smell it when she blew me. I smiled at the charade. It was a lovely thought and would make for a very exciting masturbatory fantasy in my den at my PC, where her photos would be full screen and crisp in detail, after the girls had fallen asleep. The evening was young yet and, while I knew they were tired after their long day together, I thought it would be a couple of hours more before they finally crashed. I put on a big tee shirt and my flannel pj bottoms and went to check on them.

Bethie's room is just off the stairwell landing, separated from it with a wall that forms a little foyer at her door, with the linen closet opposite the wall. I stepped to her door to knock, only to hear the girls running up the stairs. Before I could take the one step backward into the hall, Bethie appeared from behind the wall and gasped at finding me there. "Oh! Daddy you scared me!"

"I'm sorry baby. I was just going to see what you might need for Lizvette's accommodations. Should I bring a sleeping bag up?"

"Lizvette was thinking we could sleep in the living room, on a pallet. But yeah the sleeping bags would be great for that. Could you get them and leave them down there? Oh, and Lizvette wants to shower before bed. Are there fresh towels in the closet?" I stepped aside, opened the linen door, reached in for two fresh towels and handed them to Bethie. Lizvette, I saw, held her little overnight bag in her hand. "I left you plenty of hot water, Lizvette. And those are my thirstiest towels." I imagined drying her dripping wet body with them in Bethie's bathroom. "Thank you! This is better than staying at a fancy hotel!" she said. That put yet another pleasant thought in my head. I added "hotel stay" to my mental do-list of Lizvette plans.

I liked the idea of them sleeping downstairs. It would give me privacy to jack off in the den without having to worry about a surprise passerby in the hallway who might peek in on me. Bethie never quite learned to knock and had surprised me once or twice while I was enjoying myself. The first time, she was too young to notice. The second time, a few years ago, she seemed to find quite amusing, especially with her pictures streaming by on my monitor. ("Did you miss me Daddy?" she had asked before closing the door. giggling.) I got the sleeping bags out of the garage, shook them off and laid them on the floor in front of the television. I cleared some space for them by moving my guitar stands and coffee table to the side. I wanted Lizvette to enjoy her stay as much as possible and I tried to create an atmosphere she would find pleasing. I even considered candlelight, still in my romantic frame of mind, but thought better of it. I dimmed the lights to make a cozy scene for her to walk into, then went to the kitchen for a fresh glass of wine. I heard their footsteps on the stairs and met them in the living room.

"Oooo this is nice!" Lizvette stood holding a bundle of pillows and blankets, as did Bethie, both surveying the room. "Thank you Mr. Conlin. This is going to be so much fun."

"We'll probably just watch a movie and go to sleep," Bethie said. She looked at me, waiting for some sort of reply, and seeming to say, "I'm sorry tonight isn't what you were expecting, Daddy." She wanted to know I didn't mind. I smiled and said, "You know? We should have company more often." I looked at Lizvette and said, "You are always welcome here. Enjoy." They both seemed pleased at that and began spreading their blankets over the sleeping bags, and tossing their pillows on top of the pile. "Get your shower and I'll make us some popcorn," Bethie said to Lizvette.

I followed Lizvette upstairs, a few steps behind her to allow an eye level view of her little butt swaying as she climbed the steps slowly. Without looking over her shoulder she said quietly, "I've had so much fun today. I really have. You've been so fun and nice to me, Mr. Conlin. I told Bethie she's so lucky to have a father like you." I thanked her for her very nice compliment. I watched her butt twitch and wondered if her ass always wiggled like that when she walked up stairs, or if it was just for me. She turned as she reached the top step. "I hope I haven't been too much trouble."

I smiled as I waived toward the hallway bathroom. "You've been a perfect delight. I love having you, Lizvette." She inhaled deeply and sighed, then stepped past my den to the bathroom door. I stopped and opened the den doorway and said, "I'll be right in here if you need me. For anything. Please don't be shy." She just smiled and nodded, then stepped into the bathroom. She turned to look at me as she closed it, almost reluctant to do so, and keeping eye contact with me until closed fully. In a few minutes I heard the shower water running, and smelled the sexy scent of Bethie's soap, a tangy scent I've come to associate with voyeuristic excitement. But of course there would be none of that tonight. Lizvette did not leave the door open, and would not emerge naked under a small towel to walk past my den with her ass bare. Still, the thought of Lizvette in my shower, at a distance of less than 20 feet away, separated by a door, was exciting.

I sat in my reading chair, listening to the shower and thinking of her soaping and lathering her breasts and pussy. I inhaled the scent of the soapy steam emanating from the bath. I rubbed my dick through the flannel of my pajama pants and wished I were bathing her myself, by candlelight. And recording it for us to watch later. I heard a message arrive on my phone. I wondered if it might be my wife, needing to tell me something, remind me of something. No. It was a text from Bethie, with an attachment. "What do u think, Daddy? I like ur pictures better." She added a winking smiley. I opened the attachment. It was the photo Lizvette took of her in her X swimsuit on the patio before dinner. Her feet were cropped out, but the rest of her was there. It was a pretty picture, though the light was behind her, which made her mostly a sexy, curvy silhouette against the sky. I replied, "You can't take a bad picture, baby. So pretty." I saved it in her secret file on my phone, and smiled at remembering how she told Lizvette to send it to her, only so that she could then send it to me. A very loving daughter, Bethie. I was the lucky one, I thought of telling Lizvette after her compliment to me on the stairs. No father, I imagined, had a daughter who brought more beauty and pleasure into his life than Bethie brought into mine. Another message: "I'm glad u liked seeing me in it in the pool 2day. Xoxo." I was glad she noticed. The sight of her in the pool was indeed a thrill. If we had been alone there would be video of her. I replied, "You were stunning, baby. I loved it. Very much. xx." She replied immediately, with a blushing smiley.

I heard the shower water stop, then a few minutes later heard a hair dryer whirring. I picked up a book from the side table by my chair and turned to the marked page. Finally, the bathroom door opened and I feigned interest in my book to allow Lizvette to walk comfortably past my door, without worrying about me looking, but hoping she would stop to say goodnight. I saw her in my periphery approaching. She stepped to the doorway and said, "Will you come and watch the movie with us, Mr. Conlin? It's a love story!" Her hair was gathered high and tied on top of her head loosely. She wore a rich blue cotton sleepshirt with an orange and white fish on the front, swimming amid bubbles, which I later learned was from a Disney movie. It fell just to the top of her thighs, enough to conceal whatever she wore beneath it, and gave me a very pretty view again of her legs, so shapely and slender. On her feet she wore ankle socks striped in blue and green. "Oh that sounds nice. I enjoy a good love story, but I think I'll get some reading in tonight. And I know Bethie would prefer to have you to herself. Besides, she says I'm too critical of her movies." Lizvette laughed sweetly at that, and asked, "What are you reading?" Her interest surprised me. I wasn't really sure myself what I was reading. I showed her the cover and said, "A book of short stories. This one is about a man who meets a young girl before going off to war, and they sort of become pen pals." Lizvette stepped toward my chair. "Oh that sounds romantic." She stood beside me as I held the page open to the part I was reading. "For Esme, with Love and Squalor," she read. "Oh that's a famous one isn't it? I'm going to have to read that in English class probably. You can help me with it!"

She smelled of baby powder and a light citrus perfume. I felt a natural urge to reach for her waist and pull her onto my lap, as I would Bethie in that situation. I had to hold my hands still to keep them from the impulse. "I know it pretty well, and yes its a very famous story. You must come by when its time to write your paper." She looked down at me with the most intense look I had seen from her yet. We looked at each other wordlessly for several seconds. I wanted to drink her in, bask in her beauty, and tell her without words everything she had made me feel that day. Her lips parted to speak, but she said nothing. She lowered her eyes and turned to walk away. At the door, she turned her head slowly and asked, very quietly, "Will you be up late?" I looked at her feet and saw the anklet, then looked at her eyes and answered. "Not too. Don't worry about disturbing me tonight. You two have fun." She replied with a quiet, "Oh. Well then, goodnight. I'll see you in the morning I guess." She looked at her feet, gave the foot with the anklet a little shake, to adjust it without bending, then looked back at me and smiled, "Unless you change your mind about the movie." I smiled back and said, "Sleep well, angel. I'll see you in the morning." I heard her feet stepping quickly but quietly down the stairs, and she was gone.

I closed my book and took a deep breath. I wanted to relive those silent moments when we seemed to say much to each other, things no words, not even Shakespeare's or Dante's or Salinger's, can express. For the first time, I did not try to talk myself out of the idea that I, a 52 year old man, was falling in love with a fifteen year old girl, and that she felt something in return. I knew it would end in pain for me, and knew just as well that Lizvette would be worth the heartbreak that was certainly coming my way. I accepted it. I welcomed it. I hungered for it. I was in love with Lizvette and would endure the emotional toll proudly, if alone, with not a living soul to confide it to.

. . . . . .

For the next two hours. I sat in the den, looking at her photos on my phone, replaying the day and all the things we said, all the touches, all the looks we gave each other. The time passed so quickly. It was late but I was nowhere near sleepy. I was too excited and too in need of an orgasm over a picture of my Lizvette. I did think of her as mine, though I had no idea what I could do to make her mine. I hoped for an exchange of phone numbers that would allow us to communicate, and thought of ways I could get mine to her. I was sure that if she had it, she would use it. After midnight, I walked quietly downstairs to be certain they had fallen asleep. I planned to go into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine, should I find them awake. I didn't. They were sleeping soundly and still, with the DVD home screen repeating the soft theme music to their movie. I reached down beside Bethie for the remote and switched off the TV. I heard Bethie's quiet even breath as she lay sprawled across the pallet under a sheet. Beside her Lizvette lay silent, curled into a little ball, her legs tucked up against her body, the toes of her colorful ankle socks peeking visibly from under the cover, her ever-present gold anklet reflecting what light remained on her right foot. I noticed attached to it was a small heart shaped charm. My own heart tickled in my chest with a new and deeply felt love. I wanted so much to scoop her into my arms and carry her to my bed, and make to her the sweetest love I knew how to make.

Back upstairs, I went into the hall bath. The tiny room still smelled of her bath. I always enjoyed using this bathroom after Bethie showered. It was filled with all sorts of colorful, youthful, girly things. Their swimsuits were hanging on the towel rack, drying. Bethie's was hung carefully on a wire hanger, telling me she was very proud of it. Lizvette's top was d****d over the bar beside it. Her bikini bottom though lay flat beside the sink on one of the folded fresh towels I had gotten for her, as if on display. I picked it up and held it to my face. It was silky soft and dry except for the crotch which was still damp. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss it, hoping for just a hint of her taste. I smelled a faint perfumy scent on it, powdery and saccharine. I turned it inside out and put the pussy panel into my mouth. I sucked it. My cock was protruding stiffly through the fly in my pajamas, shiny with semen on the tip. I took the bikini out of my mouth and placed the pussy shield over my dick head, and wiped the semen into it. I placed the it back on the towel, right side out, just as I had found it, satisfied for now at this secret intimacy I had with Lizvette, secret even from her. Maybe one day, I thought, I would confess this little act of worship to her, and it would please her.

I went to the den, closed the door, and sat in the dark at my desk, with the only light in the room coming from my monitor, which soon played pictures of my Lizvette. I took my cock in my hand and rubbed it with the cotton of my tee shirt, letting the images of her face, her tits under her top, and her precious pussy bulging in her bikini, wash over me. I heard myself whisper her name as I gave my cock the relief it craved. I wanted the feeling to last, and held back the first orgasm by letting go of my shaft to let it sit untouched as it spasmed between my legs. I thought I heard then the sound of footfalls in the hallway. I put my cock back into my pajamas and went to open the den door. The hallway was empty, but I noticed the door to my bedroom was opened, though I usually left it closed. It would sometimes swing open on its own if not properly latched, I remembered, and so thought no more of it. I then went to the hall bath for Lizvette's bikini bottom back to take back into the den with me. I closed the door quietly behind me, making sure the latch engaged. I didn't need the den door to swing open like the bedroom door had.

It was now almost 1:00 a.m. and I was ready to cum. My cock was stiff and hard for pussy, wrapped snugly in Lizvette's bikini. I stopped the slideshow of her pictures on a full body photo that showed her eyes looking into mine. I stretched my legs and flattened my body lengthwise in my chair. I pulled my tee up high on my chest to allow the cum to squirt onto my stomach when my orgasm came. In my periphery suddenly I saw a shaft of diagonal light flicker across the floor. I turned to see my door opened an inch or two, and behind it, peering in at me, stood Lizvette.

I was stunned, but excited at her finding me jacking off with her bikini. Now that she knew, I wanted her to see more. I removed it from my cock to show her how hard I was for her. I looked at her, saying nothing, waiting for her reaction. She opened the door quickly and stepped into the den, then closed the door quietly behind her. I was lost in love and stretched my arms toward her, reaching for her. She stepped quickly and quietly into them. "Daddy. Please," she whispered, almost in tears, "Fuck me."

I held her hips in my hands and felt her trembling. She wrapped her arms around my neck, blinding me with her thick dark hair. "Please, Daddy." Her breath was steamy and hot in my ear. In a desperate, anguished whisper, she said, "I won't tell. Ever ever. Please." I reached under her sleep shirt and patted her bottom to calm her. She was fevered. Alarmingly hot. "My angel, yes. I will, baby." I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist. "Daddy needs it, too. Shh, baby." She stood again as I lifted her sleep shirt to reveal her little panties. They were drenched. Her pussy lips were visible under the wet cotton that clung to them. I put my fingers under the elastic band to treat myself to her unveiling. I was about to expose my Lizvette's pussy to my eyes for the first time and I wanted to savor the moment. I pulled them outward, away from her skin, and saw first the marks the elastic band had left around her waist. I pulled downward, slowly, and little by little uncovered her, pink, bald, glistening pussy. Her cum stuck to the crotch of her panties and clinged to her pussy in thick, wet strands that broke and landed on her inner thighs. Her bare pussy was a pretty, fleshy bulge, with small but plump supple outer lips separated by her inner petals that flowered between them in a bell shape, making a little hood at the top protecting her clit. She was a piece of living, breathing, erotic art, and her scent was heavenly.

I pulled her panties down the length of her legs, where the right side caught on her anklet. I freed the cotton where it snagged on the little heart shaped charm, which I saw was plain and unadorned. Lizvette stepped out of her wet panties, placed her hands on my shoulders, and let me guide her little body onto mine. She placed her knees in the chair on either side of my hips. I held her bottom in my hands and lowered her onto my upright shaft. Her hole was wet and hot, but so narrow. I rubbed the tip of my dick against it, applying more and more pressure, to open her. Her body was so light, she felt as if she were floating above me, like an angel. I gripped my shaft in my left hand, popped the tip into the opening of her pussy, gripped her ass again with both hands to spread her open as much as she could go, and pulled her down onto me. Her pussy sealed my cock like a hot, silken glove. She inhaled a long breath through her teeth, with her eyes shut tight, then exhaled as she took the last inch of my cock inside her. I felt the warm softness of her little ass resting on my balls, and her breath came in short gasps. "Dad...dee...mmm....mmp."

I lifted her slowly up and down on my cock, letting her muscles get used to me. I'm not unusually large, but Lizvette is a very petite girl, and I could feel her pussy muscles jerking and sucking at my dick. I sat her back down on my balls and pushed her upper body away from me, upright and erect. I lifted her night shirt to expose her breasts. "Lift it, baby. Hold it up for me. Good girl. So pretty. My Lizvette." She held her top up, obediently, allowing me to admire her pretty little tits as she sat with my cock throbbing in her dripping pussy. Her nipples were thick and dark, reddish brown like milk chocolate spiced with cinnamon. I watched them swell and enlarge before my eyes. I pinched them teasingly and saw they extended even beyond the width of my fingertips. She gasped with each pinch, loving the tension. With my other hand I reached down to her pussy and slid my thumb between her open thighs. I pressed in hard at her clit. She little out a little yelp, and I eased the pressure, then diddled her gently, pinching and tugging at her nipples all the while. Her eyes closed again and she collapsed forward, onto my chest. Her breathing was fast and deep, and her little body quivered in my arms. Her skin was so hot I was sure she had a fever.

I took her ass in my hands again. I was still sitting with my legs stretched lengthwise. I bent my knees to get my feet flat on the floor. I began bucking her hard. I wanted to slap her her ass but feared she might wake Bethie if I excited her too much. I put my hand on the back of her head, where she rested it on my shoulder. She seemed about to scream, or yell out. "Shhh shhh baby." I pressed her head into my neck to muffle her cries and whimpers. I bucked hard in rhythm. I bounced her upward and she came down harder on my nuts with each buck. I reached under her stomach and stretched a finger between us to tickle her clit. "Its hap...pen ning.... Da .... dee...oh... ow." I pressed her face hard into my neck to quiet her panting. I rocked her on my cock softly and pressed hard at her clit. I heard her shiver and felt her muscles suddenly collapse in her body as she gasped. I released the pressure on her clit and listened to her soft breathy moans as she was cumming.

I pushed her back upright in my lap. "Lift it, baby." She lifted her top again to show me her tits. In my hands they were so small, but on her chest, so full, and so beautiful, and, I considered with fascination, still developing. My lovely little Lizvette. I stared with loving eyes at her young breasts as I squeezed her ass, moving closer to orgasm at the feel of her soft, teen, and I now knew, virgin pussy. Her ass was hot and damp and felt so perfect in my hands, just as I had thought in the pool. Holding it now, with my dick oozing cum into her pussy, fucking Lizvette felt like the most natural thing in life to me. She was made for my cock, my hands. I held her butt more firmly and with my middle fingertips teased her asshole. She involuntarily flinched at that, which only excited me more. Now that I had made her pussy mine, I must have her ass next, then her mouth. My eyes went from her jiggling young tits with their huge dark nipples, to her pretty, girlish face, innocent and expectant, as she held her top up and waited for me to cum. I leaned forward as closely as I could and put my mouth on her nipples. I sucked at one, then the other, taking her entire breast into my mouth. "That feels sooo good Daddy." Her voice was now controlled and cool.

"Kiss me," she said. I let go of her ass and took her face into my hands, "Lizvette.. I..." Her lips pressed against mine as her hands gripped my head, pulling me toward her, before I could tell her what I wanted to say. As we kissed, I thought again of the Cupid's bow shape of her mouth and took a loving bite of her pouty lower lip. It was as firm as a g**** between my teeth. I could no longer hold back. My cock began pumping cum into her. She sensed it and with alarm tried to raise herself off of me. I held her down by her shoulders at first, but she tried to wriggle free with her hips. I lifted my pelvis to keep her in place, impaled on my cock and seated hard on my balls. "No! Be still!" I demanded. She struggled more but finally she knew it was too late. My balls were empty, and her pussy was filled with my cum. She rested her head on my shoulder and I patted her bottom as my dick slowly went limp inside of her. She sighed and in a humorously scolding tone, her voice muffled as she talked into my neck, said "Daddy," as if to say I'd just done something really stupid.

'You're so beautiful, sweetheart. I couldn't stop myself. I needed to cum inside you or this would have meant so much less." She lifted her head to face me, and said, "I know." She kissed my lips. "But you probably shouldn't have squirted your sperm in me." She kissed me again, longer. I held her face and told her, "You don’t know how happy you make me." She smiled and whispered, "You seem pretty happy already." She kissed me again, just a little peck, and raised herself off me. "I like the pictures you took of me. You took a lot more than you showed Bethie, didn't you?" She gave me a smile that seemed to say, Naughty Daddy. "I like you having pictures of me." She found her panties on the floor and began putting them on. "No!" I stopped her by grabbing her wrist. "Leave them for me, baby."

"Daddy!" She whispered, in stunned surprise. "I can't go back to bed with no panties!" She giggled and added, "I'll leave them tomorrow." She bent to kiss me again. "Don't worry." She pulled them up and tip toed to the door. She opened it slowly, turned to blow me a kiss, and mouthed, "Night Daddy," then, as quickly and magically as she had appeared, she vanished.

. . . . . .

I waited to give her time to get safely back downstairs and under the covers next to Bethie. I shut down the PC and turned off the desk lamp and walked down the stairs to the kitchen for more wine. There would be no reason to even try to sleep. On the stairs I stopped and raised my wine glass to my lips to sip the last drops from my glass, and doing so I inhaled not the bouquet of the wine, but, on my fingertips, the rich, crisp, gingery sweet scent of Lizvette's ass and pussy. I held them to my nose and savored her, letting the dreamy reality that I had just fucked her sink into me. I was in a quiet, blissful state, enjoying the serenity that only satisfied love can bring. Downstairs I, passed the girls on the pallet, happy to see Bethie still sleeping deeply and undisturbed in the same position I had seen her in. Lizvette, I assumed, was simply being quiet. In the kitchen I opened a fresh bottle and took it with me to the den, where I would sit peacefully in the chair I had just fucked Lizvette in, and relive the day, up to the moment I held her hips tightly against mine, with her young pussy engorged with my cock as it gushed my cum into her.

I heard water running in the downstairs lavatory, directly below me. Then I heard footfalls on the stair steps. I took Lizvette's image off my monitor and watched the open den doorway to see who would appear. "Daddy?" Bethie stood, squinting through her tussled brunette hair, eyes not yet adjusted to even the dim light of my desk lamp. "I saw your bedroom door open. You're still up?" She muttered, half asleep. She ambled to my chair in her sleep shirt, an old pinstriped dress shirt of mine she has slept in since she was thirteen or so, with long tattered tails that showed off her pretty legs. She wore a pair of pale pink panties with it, and as she sat on my lap and I held her against me, I found, nothing else. "You're not going to drink that whole bottle, are you?" She put her head on my shoulder and tucked her legs up against me.

"No, sweetheart, just a short glass or two. Having some quiet time." I patted her bottom and enjoyed the soft warm satin of her panties. "Did you have a good day, baby?" I kissed the top of her head.

She yawned and I felt her muscles, tensing and flexing under my hands, then relaxing again on me. "Mmm hmm." She put her arms around my neck. "Thank you for letting me have a friend over. She's kind of going through something right now and needed to talk to me."

"What is it, sweetie? Tell me." I wondered if Lizvette's home life was alright. "Is everything okay with her? Her family?"

Bethie sat up and looked at me, a little more wakeful. She reached behind her and took my wine glass off my desk. She took a sip and handed it to me. "Yes her family is nice. Except for her man-hating dyke sister, mad at the world, but that's not it. No its just boy troubles. You remember how that was with me, right?"

"You were always very sensible about that, baby. I never had to worry about you being foolish." That was true. I partly credited myself for that, by seeing to it that she got all the love and affection from me that I could possibly give. She looked at me and smiled.

"Well maybe you don't know everything," she said with an air of mystery. "I don't want to turn your hair too white before its time." She giggled. "But no, I'm teasing, Daddy. She's okay. She's just pretty and girls are jealous, boys want her, that's all I meant." Yes. The jealous girls and the horny grab-ass guys at school. I remembered. Then she said, with some humor, "She sure likes you. She said your sweet and caring." Bethie smiled at that, as if she knew better. I was pleased at hearing it but was careful to hide my excitement. I played it cool.

"You don't agree, Missy?" I teased, and gave her bottom a little pinch. Bethie replied with a mild slap of my hand and replied indifferently with one of our inside jokes, "Stop or I'll tell." She snuggled her head between my neck and shoulder as I put her hand to my lips and kissed it, my usual reply to her empty threat, an act to make it all better.

"Well. She chose the right girl to come to for advice." I put my hands on her cheeks to clear the stray strands of hair that hid her face. "You got some good sun today, baby. You look so rosy."

She focused squarely on me. "You're not disappointed that we didn't have a night together, Daddy?" She waited innocently for an answer that seemed very, very important for her to hear.

"Well. I was at first. You know I was looking forward to us being alone together." Another truth. I changed to a mock scolding tone. "And that little trick of yours, asking me right in front of her, knowing I would have to say yes." Bethie made a "Sorry, Daddy" face. "But you seemed to have so much fun, and now that I know Lizvette needed it, too, no baby. I'm not too disappointed." An understatement, spoken from the very chair I had just fucked her little houseguest in.

She smiled and put her forehead against mine and whispered, with eyes half shut, "We'll have tomorrow afternoon. I'll make you lunch and there will be lots of light in my room to take pictures. Okay, Daddy?"

I scratched the back of her neck and said, "That will please me very, very much, darling." She kissed my lips with a little peck, as we did in those moments alone. I let my hands caress her body under the cotton shirt as she rose to leave me, and felt again the soft fullness of her breasts beneath it. "I love you, baby. Goodnight."

From the doorway she said, "Only one more, okay? You'll be too sleepy otherwise. Goodnight Daddy. I love you too."

. . . . . .

I moved to my reading chair and stretched my legs over the ottoman, dazed but euphoric. I put the stereo on low to listen to some music that fit my mood. I thought, if Lizvette were music, what would she sound like? I chose Vivaldi's Concerto in D for Guitar, the slow middle section, a simple but beautiful piece, very graceful, very touching. I played it and replayed it while I finished my glass of wine, thinking of how perfectly Lizvette's lines matched the melodic shape of Vivaldi's masterwork, and I wondered if it wasn't the form of a beautiful young girl he had in mind when he composed those lines.

It was quite late and I wanted to be up early enough to make a nice breakfast for the girls when they woke. The thought of serving Lizvette pancakes and sausage links was a pleasant one, leading to mental pictures of syrup on her chin while she teased me by holding sausages to her pretty lips, sucking at them and tearing gently at them with her teeth. I rose and shut off the lamp and the stereo. Closing the door to the den behind me I heard a light zing ring out from my guitar downstairs. I remembered I left it on its stand beside the spot where Lizvette lay. Her hand or toes must have strummed across the strings as she turned in her sleep. I tiptoed down the stairs and peeked in at the girls.

Lizvette popped her head up in the darkness and whispered, "I didn't mean to make a noise. That was pretty music."

I stepped over to where she lay and leaned down. "It's my favorite. Rest now and I'll make you sausage and pancakes in the morning." I looked down into her face as she rested her head sleepily on the pillow. By the night light coming from the kitchen I saw her excited smile. "Okay...Daddy." I touched my fingers to my lips and then put them to hers. She kissed them back with a soft, almost silent smack. Bethie moaned and stirred in her sleep and muttered something that sounded like, "I'll just wear these and that's all." I looked down at Lizvette to exchange surprised looks with her. "She talks a lot in her sleep," Lizvette whispered. I considered the possibilities of things she might hear and said, "She has crazy dreams. Don't mind her." Lizvette kissed her fingertips and raised them to my lips. The rich scent of her pussy was fresh on her fingers. I held her wrist still in my hand and kissed them back. I licked at them lightly, hoping for a taste of her juice. I opened her palm and kissed it, too. As she caressed my cheek, she said softly, "Daddy...." I put my hand on her cheek and patted it. "Goodnight sweetheart."

I went upstairs to bed and fell asleep quickly, in spite of my eagerness for the sun to rise. I dreamed of Lizvette's body in a hundred different ways, flowing over me like water, then melting into me from the fire that consumed us. I saw us together laying naked and entwined in deep sleep, her hair enclosing us, pop swirling around our bodies. I saw her in my tub as I bathed her, lit in a golden glow. I saw her floating over me like a guardian angel, tethered to my cock, now in her pussy, then in her mouth, her bottom. I saw her covered in my cum as if frosted. I saw her with our baby on her knee, freshly sprung from her almost immaculately. I saw her opening her legs to let me in, and I felt myself slipping away into another world, taking her with me as we became one and something wholly other.

I slept deeply, drowning in dreams of her, only to be awakened rudely by pounding on my bedroom door. "Daddy wake up. I need the keys. Daddy!" Bethie, from behind the door roused me at 7:00 saying Lizvette had to leave now, her parents needed her home for a car trip they were taking, to her grandmother's. Something about having to pick up her sister in the opposite direction because she didn't come home from a girl scout meeting and was at her troop leader's house. I cursed her sister, the girl scouts, her mother. I told Bethie the keys were in the den on my desk but to wait and I would drive Lizvette myself. "She has to leave now, Daddy. Her mom said there is a storm coming later and they want to beat the weather." I cursed the weather. Bethie was running back downstairs while I took a fresh shirt from the closet and gargled a shot of mouthwash. I heard the car starting. "I said wait dammit!"

In my shirt and nothing else I peeked through the blinds into the driveway. Lizvette sat in the passenger seat, watching my window and saw me. "Wait!" I saw her lips say. She opened the car door and jumped out, and to Bethie said, "I forgot something!" She ran through the gate, the backdoor, and up the stairs to my room and burst in. I stood in only a pullover shirt as she rushed to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, "Daddy! I'll never forget this!" She kissed me hard and sloppy a dozen times. "Baby let me call your mom and tell her you can stay here."

"No. It's okay. I'll be back soon. I promise!" I held her close, not wanting to let her go, even as she tried to pull away. I loosened my hold and watched her fall to her knees. "Daddy, remember me, till I can come back." She held my balls in her little hand and kissed them. "I adore my daddy so." She kissed again as my cock began to harden. I knew she meant to make me feel better but the kiss only made her leaving worse. The car horn sounded. Damn Bethie! She rose and ran to the door and turned again to face me one last time. I must have been a memorable site to her, standing in a polo shirt, my cock pointing at her, my mouth open in shock. "Don't look so sad! I will be back! I promise!" She blew me a kiss and ran downstairs. Behind her she yelled, "I left you a surprise! Try to find it before we see each other again!"

I heard the car pull out and wondered what she meant, about her return, about the surprise, and where it could be. I remembered begging for her panties after we fucked. That must be what she meant. Oh no, I thought. I hoped she hid them well. Hers would be the only pair of size L3 panties in the house. That would be an awkward discovery to explain to my wife and daughter.

I decided to worry about it later. She was a clever girl after all. I plopped back onto the bed, my cock bobbing and throbbing, my balls still tingling from her kisses. I wanted only to sleep. For hours. And dream it all again. I wondered at the unreality of it all. Had it been only a dream? I touched my freshly shaved balls to feel the dampness left by her kisses and knew it was real. I felt the smile on my face and the ticklish feeling in my heart. I gripped my cock and gave it a squeeze and, taking advantage of the time I had alone before Bethie's return, replayed all the moments we shared. In a matter of seconds I felt my own hot cum exploding onto my chest as I repeated her name. I thought of her promised return and knew she must have a plan. I would wait patiently, and until then, content myself with her pictures, my vivid memories, all the beautiful dreams to come of the two us together, and all the joys I would soon know, of having Lizvette.