Polly Gamey 1 Preludio and 2 Andante
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4. Largo
Lizvette was silent as we drove from the hotel to the chapel. For most of the trip, she held my right hand clasped between hers in her lap, freeing it only when I needed to turn. I enjoyed the feel of her firm thighs under the snug white cotton leggings she wore. Her gaze, serene and contented, alternated between the road, the unfamiliar sights, and me. At one point she smiled and lifted my hand to kiss it, when I sang along with Frank Sinatra on the radio,
"And someday I'll know
that moment divine
when all the things you are
are mine."
We drove through the open gates of the Secret Hearts parking lot and I saw Kit and Candy emerging from their car, a sporty apple red hatchback that seemed to be made for Kit. He wore dark sunglasses and a wool blend jacket with a purple tie. With his slim build, dark wavy hair and beard, he looked every inch a European movie star. I half expected an Italian or a French accent when he smiled and extended his hand to me and said, "You picked a beautiful day to marry your beautiful girl." The charm, the aura around this k**, was irresistible. Yesterday, he was a lovestruck puppy, barely able to keep his knees from buckling. Today, he was winsome and confident, with the easy manner of a young man who had just spent hours making love to the woman of his dreams. Kit could have won with a word any girl he wanted, and he wanted and won his older sister. I looked at Candy as she helped Lizvette with her things, and understood why. Like me, he had found love where it wasn't supposed to be, forbidden and unknowable, then he found a way to keep it. I felt a genuine connection to him, and to his sister, and I was happy they were there.
To me, Candy asked, "Did you enjoy the Bellagio last night?" Her tone, slightly flirtatious, slightly teasing, told me she already knew the answer. She too wore sunglasses on that bright desert afternoon, with her hair pulled back in a long ponytail that flowed down to the top of her ass, which swayed prettily under her loose linen dress with each step she took.
"We had an unforgettable evening," I told her. I watched her lips form the same crooked smile in the same semi-concealed laughter I saw yesterday as her brother stammered his vows to her. I added, "Thank you, Candy." She took my hand and squeezed it as Kit held open the chapel doors.
"I'm so glad," Candy said. "You were like angels from heaven yesterday. Our friends had to cancel and we really wanted witnesses. Witnesses who weren't being paid to be here. And Lizvette was just too precious."
We stepped into the foyer and were greeted by the young girl from yesterday, the minister's daughter. Candy and Lizvette smiled at her and said together, "Hello, Luna." Luna opened the door to the bride's room and motioned for Lizvette and Candy to enter. Lizvette turned and looked at me, with her garment bag folded over her arms in front of her. She started to speak but instead stepped toward me quickly. She reached up with one arm and pulled me toward her for a kiss. It was like she was saying goodbye. In a way, this was an ending, and she sensed it before I did. We kissed, looked into each other's eyes, neither of us knowing exactly what to say but both of us well aware that one part of our lives was now ending, and another was about to begin. She turned and walked past Candy, who followed her into the bridal room. Luna closed the door and motioned toward the opposite end of the foyer to another room, where she led me and Kit.
Piero joined us almost immediately. "Good day, Mr. Conlin. Oh, Mr. Donnelly. Good day to you!" He seemed surprised to see Kit. Had he forgotten I arranged before leaving yesterday for Kit and Candy to serve as our witnesses? He adjusted the bill, I knew. "The chapel is prepared and we are waiting only for your bride to dress. I understand you have prepared your own vows, and I will ask you to recite yours first, then your bride. Will you exchange rings?"
"Not a ring, from me, no. But I do have a gift for her. It will require me to kneel. Do you have anything like a foot stool?" I asked him. He said he was sure he could find something suitable, then excused himself to meet with the bride before opening the chapel doors.
Soon, I stood where Kit had stood a day before, at the altar in the chapel, decorated now with Roman arches and columns, probably made of styrofoam, but to the eye appearing almost ancient. The chapel smelled richly of the various herbal plants that adorned the altar and the bridal walkway. The minister entered, with the organ lady from yesterday, his sister Analisa, who greeted me before taking her seat at a full sized harp situated beside the organ. Pluck, pluck zing, went the strings, very harmonously and filling the room with centuries old Italian music, transcribed from guitar at my request. She played beautifully.
The harp music stopped, and a recording of Ave Maria, sung in a rich baritone, began. Luna then appeared in the foyer, now dressed in a simple gown of pink pastel, so sheer the outline of her little body was visible beneath it as she walked through the light of the chapel. Having no breasts, she needed no bra, though her brown nipples protruded faintly through the fabric. Only the visible line of the elastic band of her flesh colored panties told me she wore any at all. Seeing her and the beauty of her youthful innocence made me think of how I must have appeared, at an even younger age, to Dawn, my eldest older sister. Did Dawn look at me and see the same beauty I now beheld in Luna, the night I felt her first touch? I replayed the scene in my mind, as I had thousands of times since, and saw Dawn enter the bathroom as I bathed. She knelt beside the tub, wet a wash cloth and scrubbed my neck, my shoulders, my chest, my legs, then let the cloth fall into the water, and with her hand between my thighs, rubbed me gently, pressing in places that no one else had ever touched. Sensations I never knew suddenly filled me, electrified me, and they seemed to flow directly from Dawn's hand. She became the beautiful source of magical delights for me, and wonderous unspeakable secrets no other boy knew. She always spoke of me as the most beautiful c***d she had ever seen.
Now I watched Luna walking toward me and understood how Dawn could have been so taken. On Luna's head lay a garland of pink petaled flowers and green leaves. She carried in her hands two more garlands. She asked me to bend for her as she placed one on my head, and then did the same with Kit. "Thank you my precious," the minister said to her as she returned to the bridal room.
With no mirrors, Kit and I looked at each other to check how well the garlands suited us. "Yeah. Nice. Not bad. Cool," we agreed. Candy appeared from the room next, in a garland identical to Luna's, and stood in the foyer, looking into the bridal room. Luna dimmed the lights as Analisa began to play, at Lizvette's request, the Largo movement from Vivaldi's Concerto in D for lute and strings,
Lizvette appeared, in profile at first, her eyes cast downward, and with the same serene smile she had worn since we left the hotel. Her hair was braided and coiled on her head, which was adorned with the garland of yellow and white flowers Candy had worn yesterday. She wore a simple floor length gown of white muslin, sleeveless and covering her from neckline to ankles, except for the slit on each side, which allowed a view of her legs with each step, up to mid thigh. I had described such a gown to her, but did not tell her on whom I had seen it before. On her feet she wore ballet slippers, with silk strands enwrapping her ankles and climbing upward. Around her waist, above the baby, a white braided rope of cloth was tied, accenting the round suppleness of her breasts, which jiggled gently with her movement. In her hands she held a bouquet of the same herbal plants that surrounded us, which I could not name then, but now know to have been marjoram, rosemary, lavender, sage, and myrtle. As she came to the mid point of the bridal path, stepping in waltz time to Vivaldi, her eyes looked upward and ahead, but not yet into mine. She was from another time, it seemed, and was almost another girl, though still very much, especially in comparison to Candy the woman, and Luna the girl who walked behind her, the eternally desirable, purely beautiful woman-girl I so deeply loved.
The music ended and the minister began. "Friends, today we come together, in the sight of the God of Abraham, of Jesus, of Muhammad, in the spirit of every lover from ancient times to present day, to celebrate the love shared by Lizvette and William, to unify them eternally in their devotion to one another, now and ever after.
"William, will you now look into the face of your beloved and speak your vows to her?"
I turned to face her and saw her at last looking into my eyes, expectant, trusting, so intimate she seemed unaware we were not alone. It was the look I saw from her only, I realized, when we made love. "My love for you, Lizvette, is the deepest love I have ever known." My voice was low, as if we were making love. "You are the first thought I have each day when I wake, you are the last thought I have before I sleep, you are every thought in between and you are the dreams I dream. I am filled with you. Let me forever belong to you, not only as your protector, your teacher, your lover, but as your husband. I want the rest of my life to be filled with you and the love that we share. Let it grow, and deepen and make us one. I am yours now and forever. And we are our own."
Her lips parted as she silently spoke, "Oh daddy."
"Now, Lizvette, will you, before these witnesses, speak your vows to William?"
"Daddy," her voice was soft and low, speaking only to me, "on the day we met I knew that love would find us. I knew that I would to belong to you. But I didn't know that every day would be more beautiful than the one before. You have given me happiness I didn't know I could feel. I will spend the rest of my life devoted to making you as happy. And I will be your little girl, your daughter, your lover, and your wife, to serve you and know that you will love me, nurture me and guide me. I am yours, Daddy."
I felt my lips respond, "My baby."
"William, will you now give to Lizvette the symbol of your union."
Luna appeared with a small, upholstered footstool and placed it between us. Lizvette was unsure what to do, not expecting this. I kneeled and held her right ankle, and lifted it onto the stool. Doing so, I caught a glimpse of the blue garter she had let Candy borrow the day before, that she had blindfolded me with last night, and that she now wore on her right thigh. With her foot placed on the stool, I turned to Kit who handed me the tiny box that held the symbol of our marriage. I opened it to reveal for Lizvette a small diamond set on a gold heart. I fastened it to her anklet, and, feeling moved enough by our vows to show my complete devotion, leaned forward to kiss the exposed portion of her shin.
I rose and the minister continued. "Lizvette Drew Feliciano, do you now, in this sacred place, before these witnesses, pledge your physical and spiritual fidelity, forever more, to William Entworth, having no other commitments before him, and promise to accept no others after him, for the remainder of this earthly life and the next?"
She looked at the minister and said, "I do."
"William Entworth Conlin do you now, in this sacred place, before these witnesses, pledge your physical and spiritual fidelity, forever more, to Lizvette Drew, while keeping only your prior legal obligations, and promise to accept no others after her, for the remainder of this earthly life and the next?"
"I do," I said to Lizvette.
"I pronounce you, William and Lizvette, to be husband and wife in the eyes of this church, with all the rights and obligations to one another that attend your sacred vows. And now with a kiss, let them be sealed."
Lizvette lifted her face to me as if she could not have waited another second for our kiss. As I felt the softness of her lips on mine, the warmth of her cheek in my hand, I heard Candy sniffle. The scent of the herbs filled my nose and the harp swelled, playing a traditional Italian wedding piece called "Caro Mio Ben" ("My Dear Beloved").
I held her face in my hands. "I love you, Lizvette Conlin. I will love you as long as I live."
. . . . . .
"Oh! Look at us feeding the cake to each other! That really makes it official, Daddy!" She put her phone right in front of my face from behind me as I sat in the hotel room easy chair, watching the fountain outside and enjoying my new status as her quasi-husband. "Aw and there's little Luna. I love her hair. Isn't she the most adorable little thing you ever saw?" I tilted my neck back and rested my head on the top of the recliner to face directly upward at Lizvette as she looked down at me. Her twin braids fell on either side of my face. I lifted one to my lips and kissed it. I could feel her breasts, so soft and firm under her muslin gown, pressing against my scalp. "Mmm here is a close up of us kissing. You have such pretty lashes, Daddy." I tugged at her braids to bring her lips to mine.
Her kiss tasted of the sugary cake frosting she had been nibbling at, and the non-alcoholic champagne she had been sipping since we returned from the chapel. "I love you, Mrs. Conlin," I said. She said she liked the sound of that, but returned quickly to the wedding photos. I stood and went to the dresser to pour myself another glass of champagne, from a bottle of the real thing I had decided to treat myself to, and looked at her from across the room, in profile as she leaned over the back of the recliner. The slit of her gown opened to show the front of her legs. I saw the muslin fabric d****d over her ass and filling the line that separated her cheeks. Her hips swayed slowly back and forth as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her breasts fell down and forward, tucked and billowing between her upper arms, straining her gown. If she had been a picture, I would have jacked off. I gulped the champagne in one swallow and went to her.
Behind her, I kneeled to kiss her butt through the soft fabric. I held her hips in my hands and rubbed my face against her ass, my cheeks against hers. I wanted to see it closely, to memorize the vision. I faced her ass squarely to admire how the fabric hugged it as she bent forward over the chair, how it flowed into the crevice at the top and outlined her, heart-shaped and firm. As I leaned into her to press my nose into the underside of her ass, she slowly but forcefully thrust it into my face. "Daddy wants some Vettiecake, doesn't he?" Her voice was cool, low, and controlled. "Is there a word for Daddies who love eating their little girls' butts?" She pressed her ass more firmly against my face as she reached behind my head and held it against her. "Is there?" She insisted on an answer. "Teach me."
I reached into the slits on either side of her gown to get at her panties. I felt her free hand slap my wrist, and take hold of it. "Tell me, Daddy. What are they called?" I was loving the feel of her warm ass covered in the softness of her gown, like a cushion of flesh pressed into my face, and I was willing to play her little game.
"Daughter butt-munchers" I said into her ass. She let go of my wrist and I went for her panties quickly to tug them down and off. She cooperated, stepping out of them, still in her slippers. She spread her feet further apart and grabbed again the back of my head. She pushed my face back into her ass, but I was already trying to get my nose into her pussy.
"My Daddy is a butt eater. I'm so lucky." With her free hand she began lifting one side of her gown, exposing more leg till her thigh and the underside one cheek was visible. "And what is the name for little girls who like it, Daddy?" She held her gown in place at that point, exposing no more for me. "Tell me, Daddy? What am I?"
"My angel," I said, more with breath than voice.
Her hand slapped the back of my head! "Angels let their Daddies eat their butts? No. What am I Daddy?" She was in her controlling mode, guiding me somewhere.
"My Vettie cake," I guessed.
Another slap!
"My daughter-whore."
Her hand stroked my hair and scratched my scalp, very pleasingly. "I like that Daddy. But what kind of daughter-whore? If I like my Daddy's tongue up my ass..."
The answer to this one I remembered from last night. My mouth watered anticipating my reward. "My beautiful daughter anal whore." She pulled her gown up and aside in one swoop of her hand and exposed her ass for me. With her thumb she opened her cheeks to show me her pretty pink puckered hole, and below it, her pussy glistened, waiting it's turn.
"I like being my butt eating Daddy's daughter anal whore. Taste me, Daddy." My tongue squished into her ass as her thumb teased the tip of my nose. Was she hinting at something by that? I grasped the top of her thigh with my hand, and with the tip of my index finger teased her pussy, coaxing her lips to unfold, until her clit would appear.
"Oh god Daddy. Yes." She was my little girl again. She lifted the back of her gown and d****d it over my head. Light from the open window and the lamp beside the chair, seeped easily through the muslin and I could see every inch of my baby's smooth ass and pussy. I licked her asshole in long, slow, drenching wet slurps. She tasted rich and sweet and so very, very young.
"Daddy," she paused and when she spoke again, her little girl voice was gone, and I knew I was again with her controlling alter-ego. "Did you like the way Luna looked?"
I remembered, as I licked my baby bride's puckered pink and brown hole, and inhaled the richness of her dampening pussy, Luna's little nipples protruding just slightly through her gown, sitting on top of her tiny mounds, precious little buds of flesh that would barely fill my palms, and of course the loving memory Luna triggered. "Did she remind you of anything, anyone?" Lizvette lifted herself just slightly up and away from my face, waiting for the answer. "Tell me." Lizvette knew nothing of my relationships with my sisters. No one did. What was she referring to?
I remembered then the photograph she had sent me a few weeks before, an old one she had taken on her sister's phone when she was ten, before she had her own phone. She stood in front of her sister's bedroom mirror, while Luci was bathing, with her tee lifted high and tucked under her chin, her arms together, pushing her little mounds inward and upward, smiling at the sight of her enlarged brown nipples growing wider and fuller.
"My little Lizvette. Luna was like my baby when she was that age," I breathed my answer into the space between her legs, admiring the sight of her caramel ass cheeks and her pink lips opening and shining for me, still so young and girlish. That vision mixed with the memory of her young girl's nipples pointing outward, erect and ready for their first kisses. How I wish I could have given them to her then. I pushed my tongue into her ass deeply, till I felt the muscles in my mouth stretching and aching. I pressed my finger into her pussy.
"Yes, Daddy. I told her not to wear her little cami." Lizvette giggled, out of tune with the cool womanly control she had been speaking in. "I told her it makes unflattering lines, as you would say. I wanted you to see her and think of me." She flattened her feet back on the floor and settled her pussy again on my face. "I wish I had known you then, Daddy," she sighed. Her little girl voice had returned and her body was telling me she was about to cum. "Mmm. ... You would have loved having me then, I know." The controlling dominatrix was gone now. My kitten with a whip was again simply my kitten.
I considered her words and knew they were true. She would have charmed me at that age, certainly, just as she did five years later when I first saw her. It would have been a different kind of love, but still very likely, love, just as my love for Bethie had taken on its own meaning for the two us about that time, love for Lizvette would have begun it's course then, too.
"But," she continued, turning her body toward me, and pushing my head away, "this is nice too, isn't it Daddy? Watching me become a woman?" I was now kneeling at her pregnant tummy, my hands gripping her ass anxiously, wanting more of it's musty sweet flavor, as she held my face tilted upward. I saw over her belly and between her muslin-covered breasts her smiling face beaming down at me. "Aren't my boobies more fun now that they're almost grown?" With her left hand she squeezed a breast, forcing her stiff nipple to push into the thin fabric. She smiled at my reaction. "Be still. Watch me, Daddy."
She tucked her thumbs beneath the braided seam above her belly. I heard the sound of Velcro unfastening. The top of her dress suddenly became a vest, now loosened from the bottom half, and the undersides of her breasts were visible to me. "You like me as a big girl, too, don't you Daddy?" She lifted the vest off of her shoulders. A length of thin cloth like a strap went from between her breasts where it attached to the gown, which was now an inverted V, and rose to her neck where it encircled her like a choker. Her bare breasts hung heavy and full, and so grown-up, above her stomach. Her braids fell beside them, framing them. Her nipples were swollen and pointing slightly upward and away from each other. Images of the little girl she had been gave way to the woman she was becoming. "Mommy boobies are pretty, too, aren't they Daddy?"
I rose to my feet, eager to get my mouth on them. Standing, I towered above her tiny body and had to bend awkwardly to suck her. "Daddy should be comfortable now. He's had a long day." She held my hands to keep them off of her and led me around to the chair and sat me down. She was in a sort of mommy mode, very nurturing, very soothing, bringing memories of Dawn, and her mothering, placating ways. I faced the open window and the dancing fountains and she pulled the ottoman closer and sat in front of me. She squeezed a nipple between her fingers and said, "Kiss it, Daddy."
I leaned forward, on the edge of the chair and put my mouth on her nipple. I sucked as she stroked my hair and said, in a very calm and almost relieved voice, "Oh that feels nice. Finally. I've needed this all day." I sucked, gently but firmly, knowing it was a comfort for her, not entirely sexual. She had grown used to nursing me when we were alone. It was relaxing for both of us. I switched to the other nipple after a few minutes. "I love you Daddy," she said, not teasingly, or dramatically as if in the tumult of lovemaking, but as a calm, simple statement of fact.
I reponded by cupping each breast in one hand and holding them together from below. I pressed my face between them to feel their soft, pillowy comfort. "I love you so much, Lizvette. I ... " Words failed me always at some point in our lovemaking. I would simply become dazed with sexual love and longing, as I was now, and could express myself to her only physically. I felt a kiss on top of my head. "Daddy."
She let me caress her breasts with my face for a few minutes while she stroked my hair and let out pleased sighs and amused little giggles. "You're so cute when you're like this, Daddy," she said at last. "But it's time for your present now. You have to let me up for a minute." I held her closer, saying no, I can't. "Just for a minute Daddy. I will sit back down. Just like this. I promise, baby." I relented and begged her to hurry.
. . . . . .
Lizvette was silent as we drove from the hotel to the chapel. For most of the trip, she held my right hand clasped between hers in her lap, freeing it only when I needed to turn. I enjoyed the feel of her firm thighs under the snug white cotton leggings she wore. Her gaze, serene and contented, alternated between the road, the unfamiliar sights, and me. At one point she smiled and lifted my hand to kiss it, when I sang along with Frank Sinatra on the radio,
"And someday I'll know
that moment divine
when all the things you are
are mine."
We drove through the open gates of the Secret Hearts parking lot and I saw Kit and Candy emerging from their car, a sporty apple red hatchback that seemed to be made for Kit. He wore dark sunglasses and a wool blend jacket with a purple tie. With his slim build, dark wavy hair and beard, he looked every inch a European movie star. I half expected an Italian or a French accent when he smiled and extended his hand to me and said, "You picked a beautiful day to marry your beautiful girl." The charm, the aura around this k**, was irresistible. Yesterday, he was a lovestruck puppy, barely able to keep his knees from buckling. Today, he was winsome and confident, with the easy manner of a young man who had just spent hours making love to the woman of his dreams. Kit could have won with a word any girl he wanted, and he wanted and won his older sister. I looked at Candy as she helped Lizvette with her things, and understood why. Like me, he had found love where it wasn't supposed to be, forbidden and unknowable, then he found a way to keep it. I felt a genuine connection to him, and to his sister, and I was happy they were there.
To me, Candy asked, "Did you enjoy the Bellagio last night?" Her tone, slightly flirtatious, slightly teasing, told me she already knew the answer. She too wore sunglasses on that bright desert afternoon, with her hair pulled back in a long ponytail that flowed down to the top of her ass, which swayed prettily under her loose linen dress with each step she took.
"We had an unforgettable evening," I told her. I watched her lips form the same crooked smile in the same semi-concealed laughter I saw yesterday as her brother stammered his vows to her. I added, "Thank you, Candy." She took my hand and squeezed it as Kit held open the chapel doors.
"I'm so glad," Candy said. "You were like angels from heaven yesterday. Our friends had to cancel and we really wanted witnesses. Witnesses who weren't being paid to be here. And Lizvette was just too precious."
We stepped into the foyer and were greeted by the young girl from yesterday, the minister's daughter. Candy and Lizvette smiled at her and said together, "Hello, Luna." Luna opened the door to the bride's room and motioned for Lizvette and Candy to enter. Lizvette turned and looked at me, with her garment bag folded over her arms in front of her. She started to speak but instead stepped toward me quickly. She reached up with one arm and pulled me toward her for a kiss. It was like she was saying goodbye. In a way, this was an ending, and she sensed it before I did. We kissed, looked into each other's eyes, neither of us knowing exactly what to say but both of us well aware that one part of our lives was now ending, and another was about to begin. She turned and walked past Candy, who followed her into the bridal room. Luna closed the door and motioned toward the opposite end of the foyer to another room, where she led me and Kit.
Piero joined us almost immediately. "Good day, Mr. Conlin. Oh, Mr. Donnelly. Good day to you!" He seemed surprised to see Kit. Had he forgotten I arranged before leaving yesterday for Kit and Candy to serve as our witnesses? He adjusted the bill, I knew. "The chapel is prepared and we are waiting only for your bride to dress. I understand you have prepared your own vows, and I will ask you to recite yours first, then your bride. Will you exchange rings?"
"Not a ring, from me, no. But I do have a gift for her. It will require me to kneel. Do you have anything like a foot stool?" I asked him. He said he was sure he could find something suitable, then excused himself to meet with the bride before opening the chapel doors.
Soon, I stood where Kit had stood a day before, at the altar in the chapel, decorated now with Roman arches and columns, probably made of styrofoam, but to the eye appearing almost ancient. The chapel smelled richly of the various herbal plants that adorned the altar and the bridal walkway. The minister entered, with the organ lady from yesterday, his sister Analisa, who greeted me before taking her seat at a full sized harp situated beside the organ. Pluck, pluck zing, went the strings, very harmonously and filling the room with centuries old Italian music, transcribed from guitar at my request. She played beautifully.
The harp music stopped, and a recording of Ave Maria, sung in a rich baritone, began. Luna then appeared in the foyer, now dressed in a simple gown of pink pastel, so sheer the outline of her little body was visible beneath it as she walked through the light of the chapel. Having no breasts, she needed no bra, though her brown nipples protruded faintly through the fabric. Only the visible line of the elastic band of her flesh colored panties told me she wore any at all. Seeing her and the beauty of her youthful innocence made me think of how I must have appeared, at an even younger age, to Dawn, my eldest older sister. Did Dawn look at me and see the same beauty I now beheld in Luna, the night I felt her first touch? I replayed the scene in my mind, as I had thousands of times since, and saw Dawn enter the bathroom as I bathed. She knelt beside the tub, wet a wash cloth and scrubbed my neck, my shoulders, my chest, my legs, then let the cloth fall into the water, and with her hand between my thighs, rubbed me gently, pressing in places that no one else had ever touched. Sensations I never knew suddenly filled me, electrified me, and they seemed to flow directly from Dawn's hand. She became the beautiful source of magical delights for me, and wonderous unspeakable secrets no other boy knew. She always spoke of me as the most beautiful c***d she had ever seen.
Now I watched Luna walking toward me and understood how Dawn could have been so taken. On Luna's head lay a garland of pink petaled flowers and green leaves. She carried in her hands two more garlands. She asked me to bend for her as she placed one on my head, and then did the same with Kit. "Thank you my precious," the minister said to her as she returned to the bridal room.
With no mirrors, Kit and I looked at each other to check how well the garlands suited us. "Yeah. Nice. Not bad. Cool," we agreed. Candy appeared from the room next, in a garland identical to Luna's, and stood in the foyer, looking into the bridal room. Luna dimmed the lights as Analisa began to play, at Lizvette's request, the Largo movement from Vivaldi's Concerto in D for lute and strings,
Lizvette appeared, in profile at first, her eyes cast downward, and with the same serene smile she had worn since we left the hotel. Her hair was braided and coiled on her head, which was adorned with the garland of yellow and white flowers Candy had worn yesterday. She wore a simple floor length gown of white muslin, sleeveless and covering her from neckline to ankles, except for the slit on each side, which allowed a view of her legs with each step, up to mid thigh. I had described such a gown to her, but did not tell her on whom I had seen it before. On her feet she wore ballet slippers, with silk strands enwrapping her ankles and climbing upward. Around her waist, above the baby, a white braided rope of cloth was tied, accenting the round suppleness of her breasts, which jiggled gently with her movement. In her hands she held a bouquet of the same herbal plants that surrounded us, which I could not name then, but now know to have been marjoram, rosemary, lavender, sage, and myrtle. As she came to the mid point of the bridal path, stepping in waltz time to Vivaldi, her eyes looked upward and ahead, but not yet into mine. She was from another time, it seemed, and was almost another girl, though still very much, especially in comparison to Candy the woman, and Luna the girl who walked behind her, the eternally desirable, purely beautiful woman-girl I so deeply loved.
The music ended and the minister began. "Friends, today we come together, in the sight of the God of Abraham, of Jesus, of Muhammad, in the spirit of every lover from ancient times to present day, to celebrate the love shared by Lizvette and William, to unify them eternally in their devotion to one another, now and ever after.
"William, will you now look into the face of your beloved and speak your vows to her?"
I turned to face her and saw her at last looking into my eyes, expectant, trusting, so intimate she seemed unaware we were not alone. It was the look I saw from her only, I realized, when we made love. "My love for you, Lizvette, is the deepest love I have ever known." My voice was low, as if we were making love. "You are the first thought I have each day when I wake, you are the last thought I have before I sleep, you are every thought in between and you are the dreams I dream. I am filled with you. Let me forever belong to you, not only as your protector, your teacher, your lover, but as your husband. I want the rest of my life to be filled with you and the love that we share. Let it grow, and deepen and make us one. I am yours now and forever. And we are our own."
Her lips parted as she silently spoke, "Oh daddy."
"Now, Lizvette, will you, before these witnesses, speak your vows to William?"
"Daddy," her voice was soft and low, speaking only to me, "on the day we met I knew that love would find us. I knew that I would to belong to you. But I didn't know that every day would be more beautiful than the one before. You have given me happiness I didn't know I could feel. I will spend the rest of my life devoted to making you as happy. And I will be your little girl, your daughter, your lover, and your wife, to serve you and know that you will love me, nurture me and guide me. I am yours, Daddy."
I felt my lips respond, "My baby."
"William, will you now give to Lizvette the symbol of your union."
Luna appeared with a small, upholstered footstool and placed it between us. Lizvette was unsure what to do, not expecting this. I kneeled and held her right ankle, and lifted it onto the stool. Doing so, I caught a glimpse of the blue garter she had let Candy borrow the day before, that she had blindfolded me with last night, and that she now wore on her right thigh. With her foot placed on the stool, I turned to Kit who handed me the tiny box that held the symbol of our marriage. I opened it to reveal for Lizvette a small diamond set on a gold heart. I fastened it to her anklet, and, feeling moved enough by our vows to show my complete devotion, leaned forward to kiss the exposed portion of her shin.
I rose and the minister continued. "Lizvette Drew Feliciano, do you now, in this sacred place, before these witnesses, pledge your physical and spiritual fidelity, forever more, to William Entworth, having no other commitments before him, and promise to accept no others after him, for the remainder of this earthly life and the next?"
She looked at the minister and said, "I do."
"William Entworth Conlin do you now, in this sacred place, before these witnesses, pledge your physical and spiritual fidelity, forever more, to Lizvette Drew, while keeping only your prior legal obligations, and promise to accept no others after her, for the remainder of this earthly life and the next?"
"I do," I said to Lizvette.
"I pronounce you, William and Lizvette, to be husband and wife in the eyes of this church, with all the rights and obligations to one another that attend your sacred vows. And now with a kiss, let them be sealed."
Lizvette lifted her face to me as if she could not have waited another second for our kiss. As I felt the softness of her lips on mine, the warmth of her cheek in my hand, I heard Candy sniffle. The scent of the herbs filled my nose and the harp swelled, playing a traditional Italian wedding piece called "Caro Mio Ben" ("My Dear Beloved").
I held her face in my hands. "I love you, Lizvette Conlin. I will love you as long as I live."
. . . . . .
"Oh! Look at us feeding the cake to each other! That really makes it official, Daddy!" She put her phone right in front of my face from behind me as I sat in the hotel room easy chair, watching the fountain outside and enjoying my new status as her quasi-husband. "Aw and there's little Luna. I love her hair. Isn't she the most adorable little thing you ever saw?" I tilted my neck back and rested my head on the top of the recliner to face directly upward at Lizvette as she looked down at me. Her twin braids fell on either side of my face. I lifted one to my lips and kissed it. I could feel her breasts, so soft and firm under her muslin gown, pressing against my scalp. "Mmm here is a close up of us kissing. You have such pretty lashes, Daddy." I tugged at her braids to bring her lips to mine.
Her kiss tasted of the sugary cake frosting she had been nibbling at, and the non-alcoholic champagne she had been sipping since we returned from the chapel. "I love you, Mrs. Conlin," I said. She said she liked the sound of that, but returned quickly to the wedding photos. I stood and went to the dresser to pour myself another glass of champagne, from a bottle of the real thing I had decided to treat myself to, and looked at her from across the room, in profile as she leaned over the back of the recliner. The slit of her gown opened to show the front of her legs. I saw the muslin fabric d****d over her ass and filling the line that separated her cheeks. Her hips swayed slowly back and forth as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her breasts fell down and forward, tucked and billowing between her upper arms, straining her gown. If she had been a picture, I would have jacked off. I gulped the champagne in one swallow and went to her.
Behind her, I kneeled to kiss her butt through the soft fabric. I held her hips in my hands and rubbed my face against her ass, my cheeks against hers. I wanted to see it closely, to memorize the vision. I faced her ass squarely to admire how the fabric hugged it as she bent forward over the chair, how it flowed into the crevice at the top and outlined her, heart-shaped and firm. As I leaned into her to press my nose into the underside of her ass, she slowly but forcefully thrust it into my face. "Daddy wants some Vettiecake, doesn't he?" Her voice was cool, low, and controlled. "Is there a word for Daddies who love eating their little girls' butts?" She pressed her ass more firmly against my face as she reached behind my head and held it against her. "Is there?" She insisted on an answer. "Teach me."
I reached into the slits on either side of her gown to get at her panties. I felt her free hand slap my wrist, and take hold of it. "Tell me, Daddy. What are they called?" I was loving the feel of her warm ass covered in the softness of her gown, like a cushion of flesh pressed into my face, and I was willing to play her little game.
"Daughter butt-munchers" I said into her ass. She let go of my wrist and I went for her panties quickly to tug them down and off. She cooperated, stepping out of them, still in her slippers. She spread her feet further apart and grabbed again the back of my head. She pushed my face back into her ass, but I was already trying to get my nose into her pussy.
"My Daddy is a butt eater. I'm so lucky." With her free hand she began lifting one side of her gown, exposing more leg till her thigh and the underside one cheek was visible. "And what is the name for little girls who like it, Daddy?" She held her gown in place at that point, exposing no more for me. "Tell me, Daddy? What am I?"
"My angel," I said, more with breath than voice.
Her hand slapped the back of my head! "Angels let their Daddies eat their butts? No. What am I Daddy?" She was in her controlling mode, guiding me somewhere.
"My Vettie cake," I guessed.
Another slap!
"My daughter-whore."
Her hand stroked my hair and scratched my scalp, very pleasingly. "I like that Daddy. But what kind of daughter-whore? If I like my Daddy's tongue up my ass..."
The answer to this one I remembered from last night. My mouth watered anticipating my reward. "My beautiful daughter anal whore." She pulled her gown up and aside in one swoop of her hand and exposed her ass for me. With her thumb she opened her cheeks to show me her pretty pink puckered hole, and below it, her pussy glistened, waiting it's turn.
"I like being my butt eating Daddy's daughter anal whore. Taste me, Daddy." My tongue squished into her ass as her thumb teased the tip of my nose. Was she hinting at something by that? I grasped the top of her thigh with my hand, and with the tip of my index finger teased her pussy, coaxing her lips to unfold, until her clit would appear.
"Oh god Daddy. Yes." She was my little girl again. She lifted the back of her gown and d****d it over my head. Light from the open window and the lamp beside the chair, seeped easily through the muslin and I could see every inch of my baby's smooth ass and pussy. I licked her asshole in long, slow, drenching wet slurps. She tasted rich and sweet and so very, very young.
"Daddy," she paused and when she spoke again, her little girl voice was gone, and I knew I was again with her controlling alter-ego. "Did you like the way Luna looked?"
I remembered, as I licked my baby bride's puckered pink and brown hole, and inhaled the richness of her dampening pussy, Luna's little nipples protruding just slightly through her gown, sitting on top of her tiny mounds, precious little buds of flesh that would barely fill my palms, and of course the loving memory Luna triggered. "Did she remind you of anything, anyone?" Lizvette lifted herself just slightly up and away from my face, waiting for the answer. "Tell me." Lizvette knew nothing of my relationships with my sisters. No one did. What was she referring to?
I remembered then the photograph she had sent me a few weeks before, an old one she had taken on her sister's phone when she was ten, before she had her own phone. She stood in front of her sister's bedroom mirror, while Luci was bathing, with her tee lifted high and tucked under her chin, her arms together, pushing her little mounds inward and upward, smiling at the sight of her enlarged brown nipples growing wider and fuller.
"My little Lizvette. Luna was like my baby when she was that age," I breathed my answer into the space between her legs, admiring the sight of her caramel ass cheeks and her pink lips opening and shining for me, still so young and girlish. That vision mixed with the memory of her young girl's nipples pointing outward, erect and ready for their first kisses. How I wish I could have given them to her then. I pushed my tongue into her ass deeply, till I felt the muscles in my mouth stretching and aching. I pressed my finger into her pussy.
"Yes, Daddy. I told her not to wear her little cami." Lizvette giggled, out of tune with the cool womanly control she had been speaking in. "I told her it makes unflattering lines, as you would say. I wanted you to see her and think of me." She flattened her feet back on the floor and settled her pussy again on my face. "I wish I had known you then, Daddy," she sighed. Her little girl voice had returned and her body was telling me she was about to cum. "Mmm. ... You would have loved having me then, I know." The controlling dominatrix was gone now. My kitten with a whip was again simply my kitten.
I considered her words and knew they were true. She would have charmed me at that age, certainly, just as she did five years later when I first saw her. It would have been a different kind of love, but still very likely, love, just as my love for Bethie had taken on its own meaning for the two us about that time, love for Lizvette would have begun it's course then, too.
"But," she continued, turning her body toward me, and pushing my head away, "this is nice too, isn't it Daddy? Watching me become a woman?" I was now kneeling at her pregnant tummy, my hands gripping her ass anxiously, wanting more of it's musty sweet flavor, as she held my face tilted upward. I saw over her belly and between her muslin-covered breasts her smiling face beaming down at me. "Aren't my boobies more fun now that they're almost grown?" With her left hand she squeezed a breast, forcing her stiff nipple to push into the thin fabric. She smiled at my reaction. "Be still. Watch me, Daddy."
She tucked her thumbs beneath the braided seam above her belly. I heard the sound of Velcro unfastening. The top of her dress suddenly became a vest, now loosened from the bottom half, and the undersides of her breasts were visible to me. "You like me as a big girl, too, don't you Daddy?" She lifted the vest off of her shoulders. A length of thin cloth like a strap went from between her breasts where it attached to the gown, which was now an inverted V, and rose to her neck where it encircled her like a choker. Her bare breasts hung heavy and full, and so grown-up, above her stomach. Her braids fell beside them, framing them. Her nipples were swollen and pointing slightly upward and away from each other. Images of the little girl she had been gave way to the woman she was becoming. "Mommy boobies are pretty, too, aren't they Daddy?"
I rose to my feet, eager to get my mouth on them. Standing, I towered above her tiny body and had to bend awkwardly to suck her. "Daddy should be comfortable now. He's had a long day." She held my hands to keep them off of her and led me around to the chair and sat me down. She was in a sort of mommy mode, very nurturing, very soothing, bringing memories of Dawn, and her mothering, placating ways. I faced the open window and the dancing fountains and she pulled the ottoman closer and sat in front of me. She squeezed a nipple between her fingers and said, "Kiss it, Daddy."
I leaned forward, on the edge of the chair and put my mouth on her nipple. I sucked as she stroked my hair and said, in a very calm and almost relieved voice, "Oh that feels nice. Finally. I've needed this all day." I sucked, gently but firmly, knowing it was a comfort for her, not entirely sexual. She had grown used to nursing me when we were alone. It was relaxing for both of us. I switched to the other nipple after a few minutes. "I love you Daddy," she said, not teasingly, or dramatically as if in the tumult of lovemaking, but as a calm, simple statement of fact.
I reponded by cupping each breast in one hand and holding them together from below. I pressed my face between them to feel their soft, pillowy comfort. "I love you so much, Lizvette. I ... " Words failed me always at some point in our lovemaking. I would simply become dazed with sexual love and longing, as I was now, and could express myself to her only physically. I felt a kiss on top of my head. "Daddy."
She let me caress her breasts with my face for a few minutes while she stroked my hair and let out pleased sighs and amused little giggles. "You're so cute when you're like this, Daddy," she said at last. "But it's time for your present now. You have to let me up for a minute." I held her closer, saying no, I can't. "Just for a minute Daddy. I will sit back down. Just like this. I promise, baby." I relented and begged her to hurry.
. . . . . .
Fawn
- 04.07.2022
- 51
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