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Polly Gamey
(A Lizvette story)
This is an installment in a series of stories collectively titled "Loving Lizvette" told by William Conlin, a man of middle years who has fallen in love with, and impregnated, his daughter's young friend, Lizvette, who calls him Daddy. In this story, William feels a great need to seal his bond with Lizvette to create an enduring union, and hits upon an idea that he believes will satisfy it. Along the way, he learns more about himself as he reveals to us not only the secrets he shares with Lizvette, but also the very deep secrets he must keep from her.
This is a work of fiction. All rights are reserved. No copying to any other site including sex stories dot com is permitted.
. . .
Lyrics from "What is a Youth (Love Theme from 'Romeo and Juliet')" by Eugene Walter and Nino Rota
Lyrics from "All The Things You Are" by Gerome Kern.
. . .
For Lizbeth, on the occasion of her wedding, with wishes for every happiness, and with enduring affection. You are forever my muse.
. . .
"Three fair-cheeked Graces, from whose eyes as they glanced flowed love that unnerves the limbs, and beautiful is their glance beneath their brows." - Hesiod
. . . . . .
1. Preludio
"Mr. Conlin, what is polly gamey?"
"What, Lizvette?
"The headline on the TV says, 'Is polly gamey next?' "
She was seated in my living room in her guitar chair looking up from her lesson, a piece of music I had written myself in college called "The Three Graces," a three movement piece, framed by a prelude which repeated in developed form as a finale, and which was inspired by my three older sisters, but which was ostensibly based on the ancient Goddesses. I was teaching Lizvette the prelude, an easy enough section for a beginning player to master, and one she enjoyed when I played it for her ten weeks ago in that same room, as she danced naked for me.
On the muted television screen, where her eyes now rested, a cable news program was airing a discussion of marriage law.
"Oh. puh-LIH-guh-mee," I corrected. That's when a man has more than one wife."
"Why would he have more than one?
The only answer that occurred to me, without having to explain the Mormons to her, or entering into a deeper discussion on how a man can love more than one woman (which we both knew was possible, as our love proved) was, "Because he's nuts."
From the top of the stairs, Bethie yelled, "Daddy! You know you love being married! Don't say such things."
"Well. I think people should be able to marry who they want," Lizvette said resolutely.
"They can already," I said. "It's just a question of whether the state recognizes the marriage. If a guy wanted to marry his parakeet I'm sure he could find someone to perform the ceremony."
"But I'm not talking about crazy people," Lizvette said, with some dismissiveness.
Bethie appeared from the stairway in a short tight little dress that hugged her teenage-woman curves and featured what looked like small eastern symbols in black on white. Her figure was so shapely and so alluring I had to hide my reaction from Lizvette. "Bethie!" I gasped, wanting to appreciate, but instead choosing to scold, for appearance's sake. "That's a little short, isn't it?"
"Yes it is." She stood over me and leaned down to give me a little goodbye peck, on the cheek instead of the lips, considering we had company. With a whisper she added, "And you love it."
She walked toward the front door and said, "I made you a tossed salad and there is some grilled chicken ready to go in the fridge. Please don't wait up for me? I may be later than usual. We're going to a party after the concert."
"How late is later than usual? I never know." That was sincere.
Lizvette tried to save her. "You are so beautiful, Lizbeth!" I was sure she was sincere, too, and I was equally sure she was changing the subject to help Bethie avoid my question.
Bethie placed a hand on a hip and thrust it sideways, and said to Lizvette, "Thank you, dahling." Lizvette laughed and Bethie continued, to me, "Probably not before 2 o'clock, but with Mom gone overnight I know you won't want to go to bed. Promise you will." She was telling me that when she eventually gets home, she will be too tired to spend any time with me and will want to go straight to bed.
"As you wish, baby," I promised.
Lois was staying overnight with a cousin, about a three hour drive away. I had awakened that morning, after she left, to a note taped to the bathroom mirror. "So hard to leave such a handsome sleeping man. I love you." I had slept very soundly after giving her a much appreciated pussy licking. Her scent was rich on my face still as I read her note. The scent of love.
So with my loving daughter out late, and my loving wife away, my loving Lizvette and I planned to spend a loving evening together. We were anxious to be alone but trying not to show it. As far as Bethie knew, Lizvette was there for her bi-weekly guitar lesson.
"Amber is waiting out front," Bethie said at the doorway. "I have to go."
Lizvette called after her, "Have fun! Don't go backstage! It's a trap!" Bethie smiled and gave me a kissy face as she closed the door.
Lizvette looked at me. In her quiet flirty little voice, she said, "Well, Mr. Conlin, we seem to be alone." She plucked an A minor chord and played the opening notes of one her favorites, the love theme from the film Romeo and Juliet. "Whatever shall we do?"
. . . . . .
2. Andante
Lizvette wore a long, loose fitting white cotton top, decorated in white embroidered designs and lacy patches here and there, very delicate, sleeveless and with a low neckline that gave me a pretty view of her cleavage as she held the guitar close to her body. It was long enough to appear to be a short dress, and beneath it, she wore black stretch maternity shorts. Her tummy was protruding just enough to give her a little cherub look when she stood, and her hair was up and swept away from her face. She glowed. I know that word is always used to describe an expectant mother, but in Lizvette's case, it was so true. She was the picture of love.
With the music of Romeo and Juliet playing in my head, I stood and held my hand out to her. She took it, and held it, waiting for me to guide her. "Let lips do what hands do," I quoted Romeo, and led her wordlessly to my bedroom.
Upstairs, I sat her on the edge of the bed, positioned a pair of pillows behind her, and laid her back. I knelt at her knees and reached for her little shorts to pull them down, with her panties. "Put your feet on my shoulders, darling."
"But Daddy. I should shower first if you want to kiss me there."
"No baby, I need it. Now." I lifted her feet for her, kissed each as I held them one at a time in my hand, and rested them on my shoulders.
"But Daddy I'm not..."
"Shhh baby. This is what I need now," I assured her. "I love you so."
It was true. I needed to taste her, as she was then, nothing to mask her natural scents and flavors. It was a sacrament I needed to perform. I craved intimacy and oneness with her. We had not been intimate for weeks and in that time a growing and nagging sense of unfullfilment had come over me. I needed to know she was my own and that I was hers. We needed to share something even more personal than we had already.
Her pussy was smooth and freshly shaved. She had prepared that much for me, though she knew I liked shaving her myself. I looked closely at her little pink petals peeking at me from between the plump folds of her lips, which were themselves snuggled between her caramel baby soft thighs. I felt my cock let out a small serving of pre-cum into my shorts. I leaned in to kiss her.
She was salty, with a tart scent that excited me. This at last was the flavor of my angel. I pressed my nose gently into her, and felt the heat and dampness emanating from within her. Her little body shuddered as I felt her hands caress my head. I began to lick hungily, careful not to let my drool mix with her pussy. I wanted to taste only my Lizvette.
Then, I heard again in my mind her words from downstairs. "People should be able to marry who they want." The thought of making her my bride, not an adopted daughter, but my bride, overcame me. That was the bond I wanted with her. Something pure, eternal.
I gave her a long, deep, loving lick, from between her ass cheeks up to her clit, wet and hard. She pulled my head into her body, pressing her feet harder into my shoulders. Her pussy was flowing now, salty and sweet at once. I felt her hips rising and falling beneath my face, and could breath only through her, only when her body allowed.
As she came to orgasm her sighs deepened. I reached beneath her top and held her breasts over her bra, squeezing them. I kissed her inner thighs, giving each a gentle bite. Then, sucked one last time at her clit before pressing my face hard into her pussy. Into her flesh, I said, inaudibly to her but very clearly to myself, "Marry me, Lizvette."
She tensed and held my head tight between her thighs, and so closely against her pussy breath was impossible. "Uhhhh! Oh God! Yes! Yes Mister Conlin! Yes!"
. . .
I lowered her feet gently from my shoulders and let her legs fall freely over the bedside as she caught her breath, licking her lips and waving away wisps of loose hair from around her face. I stood and stepped to my nightstand, where I kept the coconut oil bottle. I unzipped my shorts and let them fall. I pulled my briefs down and off. My cock bobbed up and down like a freshly sprung jack-in-the-box. I looked at Lizvette to see if she was watching. Her eyes were fixed on my dick and unblinking. Good. I got harder.
I opened the bottle and poured enough oil to fill my palm. I stood facing Lizvette and soaked my shaft from tip to base. I was surprised myself at how hot it was. I looked at Lizvette and saw her eyes go from my cock to my face as her wide, bright smile appeared. "Nnnnggg hehe! That's what I was ready for, daddy."
Her feet were now back on the bed and her hands, one under each thigh, gently opened and let close her round, supple ass cheeks. Teasing me with a little peekaboo play, the dark cleft where her asshole waited now in, then out, of sight. But she didn't have to tease. I was aching for her and had been for days. I took my position between her open knees and lowered my own onto the edge of the mattress.
"Baby?" I rubbed my arched cock into the crevice of her pussy lips. "You know I can't leave Lois and Bethie ..."
"I would never ask you to."
"I know darling. I know. But ..."
She lifted her feet and pressed them comfortably against my chest, then pushed against me enough to lift her ass up and open for me.
"If I can find someone to perform a ceremony, one just for us..."
I tucked the head of my cock carefully between her cheeks, feeling the hollow opening where her asshole waited.
"Will you..."
"Daddy..."
I plunged in hard and fast and watched her back arch.
"... marry me?"
Her ass was so slickened and so silky around my cock I thought for a second or two that I was in her pussy. Had she lubed herself for me before coming over? Only the tight grip of her rim on the base of my dick confirmed I was deep up her little bubble butt.
"Baby?"
Her eyes were shut tightly and she was working to control her breath, enjoying the pleasure and coming to terms with the pain. I knew she would not be able to speak for a little while yet. I pulled slowly out to just below the tip, then plunged back in, reigniting in her the pleasure and pain cycle she loved. Again she labored to keep her breath rate down. She was so beautiful. So vulnerable, taking at once my cock where it didn't belong, and my proposal of illegitimate marriage.
Her muscles loosened after a few more pokes and thrusts and we settled into a rhythm that was very much like pussy-fucking. My cock felt as if it were electrified and her rim opened wider and wider for me. I could feel my balls hanging low and feeling so good pressed between the opening of her soft cheeks, damp and gingery-smelling.
She spoke at last in rhythm to our lovemaking.
"Be ... your ... daugh ... ter ..."
"You are my daughter, baby." Just speaking the words quickened my approaching orgasm. Just the word daughter did it. It always did.
"And ... your ... wife..."
"We can, baby. We can." My nuts were pulsing, ready to erupt, and my heart was pounding.
I saw a smile cross my Lizvette's face at last, and she sang, "Yes Daddy darling yesssss!"
I let my cum shoot into her ass as she panted. "My Daddy. ... My husband. ... My beautiful ... Darling ... William." At last I was empty. I lowered myself over her to kiss her face. As my lips touched her cheek, she whispered, "Yes, Daddy. I will marry you."
. . .
"You in a poker tournament? Bill, do you even know what a full house is?"
I had just informed Lois that I agreed to a two-night trip to Las Vegas with friends from the office who found a discount deal on airfare and hotel accommodations for four. "Paul and Don will play the poker. Chris and I will probably spend most of the time in the Keno lounge. Free drinks as long as we look like we're gambling, you know."
"You'll be in the strip joints ogling naked 20 year olds. I know you," she said with one eyebrow arched. "They're going to love you, too! Cute old man. They'll see dollar signs in your eyes."
"Whatever. I'm 50 years old. I'm way over that, dear." Images of the naked 15 year old I would actually be with filled my mind, her swaying bare breasts with nipples like chocolate kisses and an ass so ready and open my cock twitched at the memory of fucking it. "I would like to see Vegas again though. And this is not the first time they've asked me."
"Oh go ahead. You haven't had any time with your friends in a while, I know. Enjoy. Just remember. Look but don't touch!"
. . . . . .
Lizvette's getaway story was safe enough to avoid anyone coming looking for her, I thought. I instructed her to tell her parents that she was invited to spend the weekend with her boyfriend and his parents at his grandmother's home, where she would meet all of her future in-laws. Her parents believed that the father of her baby was a very shy 16 year old boy named Johnny, who was in fact truly in love with Lizvette, even to the point of agreeing to marry her and adopt the baby after high school. Lizvette had concocted on her own a lurid tale for Johnny that she had been d**gged and date-****d by a college boy whom she could not identify. "Johnny has loved me since we were little. He will really marry me! But I'll let him off the hook before then, Daddy," Lizvette had told me.
Our plans for the baby were still taking shape. I knew I would adopt, but I had yet to get Lois's agreement. I suspected she would accept the idea, once she saw that I was serious. But there was still plenty of time to plan all that. Till then, and especially at that point, a more immediate need for me was finding a way to seal my bond with, and my love for, Lizvette. I needed a ritual, a ceremony, a symbol for our love, something eternal and unbreakable. And, I believed, our c***d deserved it, too.
On the plane, Lizvette captured the attention of the flight attendant right away. "Oh! Are you cleared for take-off, Mom? How far along are you?" Lizvette wore a pale pink maternity blouse over white stretch pants. On the blouse, over her tummy, was an embroidered image a sleeping baby, making her condition quite obvious. Lizvette assured her all would be well as she slipped passed the aisle seat the attendant pointed out for her and settled in by the window. "Oh this is like the chair in your den Daddy! Soft leather." I took my seat next to her and nodded to the attendant. "She'll be fine."
We arrived, after a rather bouncy flight that kept the attendant nervous about Lizvette and the baby, at McCarran airport. The attendant ushered Lizvette and I off the plane before the others, and was very relieved to tell us "bye bye." In the terminal, as we rode down the escalator to the baggage claim - Lizvette packed way too much for two nights, I thought - I saw again the small Cessna suspended from the ceiling, an icon of Las Vegas history. "That's cute. A big toy airplane!"
We retrieved Lizvette's bags, picked up our rental car, and drove to our first destination, a small wedding chapel outside of town that catered to a very specific clientele. Driving the opposite direction from the strip confused Lizvette, who thought we were going straight to the Bellagio. "Are we going the right direction? All the hotels are behind us." Soon, I pulled into a lot and parked. She read the sign. "Secret Hearts Wedding Chapel."
She looked at me. "But Daddy I'm not in my gown! I thought we were marrying tomorrow?"
"We have to meet with the minister first, baby. I bought the deluxe package. We get the full ceremony with music and witnesses. We have some arrangements to make."
Her lips parted as she looked at me. "Oh Daddy. It really is happening." She held her cheek and took a deep breath. "I'm going to be your wife."
Was she having second thoughts? Had she thought this was all a silly joke?
"I'm so happy!" She took my hand and kissed it. Then, she looked at me suddenly and with some alarm asked, "But can I still call you Daddy?"
. . .
We entered the lobby of the chapel and were greeted by a pretty little girl of maybe 10 or 11, dark-complected and quite slim wearing a colorful dress of green and orange and red, with a white Hawaiian lei around her neck. "Welcome! Are you here to witness for Candy and Kit?" She was disappointed to hear that we were not. She asked us to wait, then disappeared into a side door, leaving us in the foyer. Beyond two opened double doors was the chapel, where a young man of about 22 or 24 stood waiting in a black jacket and a blue and white striped tie. Kit, I assumed. Chatting with him was, I recognized from his photograph on the website, Piero Cahuaya, minister of the Church of Spiritual Unification and proprietor of the Secret Hearts Wedding Chapel.
The girl reappeared from behind the door and hurried to Kit and the minister. They spoke briefly, then, all at once, looked in our direction. The girl stepped toward us and asked, "The couple wishes for you to witness their ceremony. Will you consent?"
"Oh yes! We would be thrilled!" Lizvette actually hopped with excitement.
To Lizvette, the girl said, "Perhaps you will like to assist the bride in her preparation? Please come this way." The girl led Lizvette to the adjoining room, while the minister motioned for me to enter the chapel.
"Oh yes, Mr. Conlin. Of course. We are running a little late. Our couple's witnesses ran into some difficulty, it seems." The minister spoke with a South American accent, but very softy and distinctly. Meester. Leetle. Weetneses. Deefeeculty. I told him we were a little early and expected a wait, but that Lizvette was very excited by the opportunity. "Your little girl is charming," he said. "Please meet Kit Donnelly. He and his natural sister Candy will be unified today. Mr. Donnelly, this is William Conlin."
Kit watched my face as I weighed the words I had just heard. He was marrying his sister. If he expected shock from me, he shouldn't have. "Oh," I smiled, understanding. "You must be very much in love. It is a very pure love, I know. Like no other." And I did know, of course. My own first loves had been my three sisters, my Three Graces. Often I thought, as I matured, that if they had not had husbands, I might not have needed, or wanted, a wife.
Kit offered his hand and I noticed it was quite warm and damp. He was a handsome young man, quite tall, very slim, with dark wavy hair and almond shaped eyes that seemed more focused on the chapel entrance than on anything else. Clearly he was anxious to be unified. His facial features were quite soft, almost feminine, but were contradicted by his dark beard, not quite manicured, that leant his face a boyish ruggedness.
Lizvette appeared from the doorway. "Daddy?" She turned toward us. "I need the car key. I need to get something out of my bag for Candy!" I gave her the key and told her to slow down. "There is no rush darling." Kit cleared his throat audibly at that. Lizvette looked at him. "Wait till you see her! She's beautiful like a model!"
It occurred to me then that Candy had been changing into her bridal clothes in the other room and that Kit would be seeing her in them for the first time. The same pleasure awaited me tomorrow, I thought, and I became a little anxious myself.
The minister said to Kit, "Mr. Conlin will unite with his young love tomorrow."
"She's cute. Congratulations," Kit said, quietly. I thanked him and said, "She has brought me so much. I am very happy I found Secret Hearts." I didn't feel comfortable then and there discussing my deeper motivations, so to make small talk, I almost asked how he and Candy met, but stopped myself before creating an awkward moment. Instead, I said, quite sincerely, "I'm sure you are going to be very happy."
"I've wanted this day all my life. I didn't dream it would really come," he stammered. "Well I mean I dreamed it. Of course, but I thought it would only, you know, just always be a dream." The minister chuckled. "Love should never have to remain a dream when it is within reach, my sons." Lizvette reappeared through the front door and vanished into the dressing room before I could yell, "Slow! Down!"
After a few minutes, the girl reappeared from the dressing room. "We are ready father." She dimmed the chapel lights so that only the alter where the minister now stood, and a pathway for the bride to walk, were lit. Organ music began and I noticed behind me a dark woman, of middle years, dressed in colors similar to the girl's, sitting at the keyboard. Only then did the tropical Hawaiian decor accenting the room become apparent to me. The girl stepped toward me with a blue lei. "Bend, please." I obeyed as she placed it around my neck. Around Kit's neck, she placed a white lei decorated with flowers of white petals and yellow centers.
Lizvette appeared, still dressed in her stretch pants and maternity top, but with a blue lei around her neck. She stood in the foyer looking into the dressing room, smiling, as Candy made her entrance. As Lizvette promised, she was beautiful like a model.
She wore a short white gown that hugged her torso closely, with an open neckline that showed her clear, brown eggshell-colored skin and her rather modest bustline. Around her narrow waist was a sash of blue and white stripes, mirroring Kit's tie. She wore sheer white stockings on her long legs, and white open-toed heels. As she came closer, I saw the same delicate features I had noted in her brother's face. Noticeably, her deep blue eyes differed from her brother's, piercing and bright, and her hair did not wave. It was long, lustrous and silky as it d****d one bare shoulder. Around her forehead, she wore a band of the same white and yellow flowers that decorated Kit's lei, and in her hand she held a matching bouquet.
I guessed her to be not much older than 30, but still quite youthful and, seeing her now from behind, quite shapely from the waist down. Her gown was gathered upward in the back, with the sash tied into a large bow. The design allowed a generous view of her legs and flattered a very pretty, very round bottom that sat nicely atop her long legs. At one point, she stooped forward just slightly, concealing a giggle at Kit's amazement at her, and I was treated to the sight of the tops of her stockings, including the blue and white garter peeking out from her right inner thigh.
"Christopher James," the minister spoke, "Will you now, in this sacred place, before these witnesses, pledge your physical and spiritual fidelity, forever more, to Candice Donna, having no other commitments before her, and promise to accept no others after her, for the remainder of this earthly life and the next?"
Candy look up at him, and again her pursed lips betrayed a concealed grin at his helplessness. "Yes. For forever. Yes," he said. Again her body bent slightly forward in concealed laughter. Candy's happiness at her brother's stupefication called memories of my middle elder sister Liliana to mind. How I loved her perfectly round heart-shaped ass. And how she loved teasing me, with playful peeks and flashes, like lifting her dress to show me her panties only to drop it after a second's worth of fun, or sitting on the living room chair with her knees tucked under her chin, her feet apart and her panties visible only to me, on the floor in front of her, always for her own amusement. I imagined Candy subjecting Kit to the same games. I remembered Lili's lingering caresses when she might surprise me from behind at the refrigerator in the kitchen, or at the washing machine in the laundry room, when she would squeeze between my legs, clawing with her long red nails at my balls, my ass, then laughing at my speechless shock as I hoped for more but could not ask for it. But Lili was never so cruel as to give me nothing, and never so generous to me as the night, not long after I turned 14, when after my shower I opened the bathroom door to find her waiting in the hallway in her double slit nightgown, blocking my path. She reached behind me, beneath the towel around my waist, patted my ass, kissed my lips, and lead me by the hand to her bed, where I was taught new lessons in lovemaking. That Candy loved Kit every bit as much was obvious and I could not help but smile at them, with memories of Liliana in my heart.
At last, when the minister put the sacred question to her, Candy's countenance grew solemn. She lifted Kit's hand to her heart, looked him deeply and earnestly in the eyes, and said, "I do."
"I pronounce you, Christopher and Candice, 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."
As Kit leaned down and pressed his lips to his wife's, I saw Candy's eyes close. A tear appeared beneath her long lashes, catching the light. As the meaning of the vows they had just taken washed over me, the vows I and Lizvette would exchange tomorrow, I watched another tear form and escape down Candy's cheek, before Kit's hand could wipe it away.
I turned to see Lizvette, now beside me, with a similar tear trail glistening on her little round cheeks. I held her face in my palm and bent to kiss it. I tasted again her salty flavor on my lips and I remembered the night I proposed to her, remembered the scents and tastes and sounds of her as I kissed her unwashed body, asking for her promise to be my wife. I licked now the salty liquid on my lips, savoring the memory, savoring the moment, savoring the very taste of joy.
. . . . . .
(A Lizvette story)
This is an installment in a series of stories collectively titled "Loving Lizvette" told by William Conlin, a man of middle years who has fallen in love with, and impregnated, his daughter's young friend, Lizvette, who calls him Daddy. In this story, William feels a great need to seal his bond with Lizvette to create an enduring union, and hits upon an idea that he believes will satisfy it. Along the way, he learns more about himself as he reveals to us not only the secrets he shares with Lizvette, but also the very deep secrets he must keep from her.
This is a work of fiction. All rights are reserved. No copying to any other site including sex stories dot com is permitted.
. . .
Lyrics from "What is a Youth (Love Theme from 'Romeo and Juliet')" by Eugene Walter and Nino Rota
Lyrics from "All The Things You Are" by Gerome Kern.
. . .
For Lizbeth, on the occasion of her wedding, with wishes for every happiness, and with enduring affection. You are forever my muse.
. . .
"Three fair-cheeked Graces, from whose eyes as they glanced flowed love that unnerves the limbs, and beautiful is their glance beneath their brows." - Hesiod
. . . . . .
1. Preludio
"Mr. Conlin, what is polly gamey?"
"What, Lizvette?
"The headline on the TV says, 'Is polly gamey next?' "
She was seated in my living room in her guitar chair looking up from her lesson, a piece of music I had written myself in college called "The Three Graces," a three movement piece, framed by a prelude which repeated in developed form as a finale, and which was inspired by my three older sisters, but which was ostensibly based on the ancient Goddesses. I was teaching Lizvette the prelude, an easy enough section for a beginning player to master, and one she enjoyed when I played it for her ten weeks ago in that same room, as she danced naked for me.
On the muted television screen, where her eyes now rested, a cable news program was airing a discussion of marriage law.
"Oh. puh-LIH-guh-mee," I corrected. That's when a man has more than one wife."
"Why would he have more than one?
The only answer that occurred to me, without having to explain the Mormons to her, or entering into a deeper discussion on how a man can love more than one woman (which we both knew was possible, as our love proved) was, "Because he's nuts."
From the top of the stairs, Bethie yelled, "Daddy! You know you love being married! Don't say such things."
"Well. I think people should be able to marry who they want," Lizvette said resolutely.
"They can already," I said. "It's just a question of whether the state recognizes the marriage. If a guy wanted to marry his parakeet I'm sure he could find someone to perform the ceremony."
"But I'm not talking about crazy people," Lizvette said, with some dismissiveness.
Bethie appeared from the stairway in a short tight little dress that hugged her teenage-woman curves and featured what looked like small eastern symbols in black on white. Her figure was so shapely and so alluring I had to hide my reaction from Lizvette. "Bethie!" I gasped, wanting to appreciate, but instead choosing to scold, for appearance's sake. "That's a little short, isn't it?"
"Yes it is." She stood over me and leaned down to give me a little goodbye peck, on the cheek instead of the lips, considering we had company. With a whisper she added, "And you love it."
She walked toward the front door and said, "I made you a tossed salad and there is some grilled chicken ready to go in the fridge. Please don't wait up for me? I may be later than usual. We're going to a party after the concert."
"How late is later than usual? I never know." That was sincere.
Lizvette tried to save her. "You are so beautiful, Lizbeth!" I was sure she was sincere, too, and I was equally sure she was changing the subject to help Bethie avoid my question.
Bethie placed a hand on a hip and thrust it sideways, and said to Lizvette, "Thank you, dahling." Lizvette laughed and Bethie continued, to me, "Probably not before 2 o'clock, but with Mom gone overnight I know you won't want to go to bed. Promise you will." She was telling me that when she eventually gets home, she will be too tired to spend any time with me and will want to go straight to bed.
"As you wish, baby," I promised.
Lois was staying overnight with a cousin, about a three hour drive away. I had awakened that morning, after she left, to a note taped to the bathroom mirror. "So hard to leave such a handsome sleeping man. I love you." I had slept very soundly after giving her a much appreciated pussy licking. Her scent was rich on my face still as I read her note. The scent of love.
So with my loving daughter out late, and my loving wife away, my loving Lizvette and I planned to spend a loving evening together. We were anxious to be alone but trying not to show it. As far as Bethie knew, Lizvette was there for her bi-weekly guitar lesson.
"Amber is waiting out front," Bethie said at the doorway. "I have to go."
Lizvette called after her, "Have fun! Don't go backstage! It's a trap!" Bethie smiled and gave me a kissy face as she closed the door.
Lizvette looked at me. In her quiet flirty little voice, she said, "Well, Mr. Conlin, we seem to be alone." She plucked an A minor chord and played the opening notes of one her favorites, the love theme from the film Romeo and Juliet. "Whatever shall we do?"
. . . . . .
2. Andante
Lizvette wore a long, loose fitting white cotton top, decorated in white embroidered designs and lacy patches here and there, very delicate, sleeveless and with a low neckline that gave me a pretty view of her cleavage as she held the guitar close to her body. It was long enough to appear to be a short dress, and beneath it, she wore black stretch maternity shorts. Her tummy was protruding just enough to give her a little cherub look when she stood, and her hair was up and swept away from her face. She glowed. I know that word is always used to describe an expectant mother, but in Lizvette's case, it was so true. She was the picture of love.
With the music of Romeo and Juliet playing in my head, I stood and held my hand out to her. She took it, and held it, waiting for me to guide her. "Let lips do what hands do," I quoted Romeo, and led her wordlessly to my bedroom.
Upstairs, I sat her on the edge of the bed, positioned a pair of pillows behind her, and laid her back. I knelt at her knees and reached for her little shorts to pull them down, with her panties. "Put your feet on my shoulders, darling."
"But Daddy. I should shower first if you want to kiss me there."
"No baby, I need it. Now." I lifted her feet for her, kissed each as I held them one at a time in my hand, and rested them on my shoulders.
"But Daddy I'm not..."
"Shhh baby. This is what I need now," I assured her. "I love you so."
It was true. I needed to taste her, as she was then, nothing to mask her natural scents and flavors. It was a sacrament I needed to perform. I craved intimacy and oneness with her. We had not been intimate for weeks and in that time a growing and nagging sense of unfullfilment had come over me. I needed to know she was my own and that I was hers. We needed to share something even more personal than we had already.
Her pussy was smooth and freshly shaved. She had prepared that much for me, though she knew I liked shaving her myself. I looked closely at her little pink petals peeking at me from between the plump folds of her lips, which were themselves snuggled between her caramel baby soft thighs. I felt my cock let out a small serving of pre-cum into my shorts. I leaned in to kiss her.
She was salty, with a tart scent that excited me. This at last was the flavor of my angel. I pressed my nose gently into her, and felt the heat and dampness emanating from within her. Her little body shuddered as I felt her hands caress my head. I began to lick hungily, careful not to let my drool mix with her pussy. I wanted to taste only my Lizvette.
Then, I heard again in my mind her words from downstairs. "People should be able to marry who they want." The thought of making her my bride, not an adopted daughter, but my bride, overcame me. That was the bond I wanted with her. Something pure, eternal.
I gave her a long, deep, loving lick, from between her ass cheeks up to her clit, wet and hard. She pulled my head into her body, pressing her feet harder into my shoulders. Her pussy was flowing now, salty and sweet at once. I felt her hips rising and falling beneath my face, and could breath only through her, only when her body allowed.
As she came to orgasm her sighs deepened. I reached beneath her top and held her breasts over her bra, squeezing them. I kissed her inner thighs, giving each a gentle bite. Then, sucked one last time at her clit before pressing my face hard into her pussy. Into her flesh, I said, inaudibly to her but very clearly to myself, "Marry me, Lizvette."
She tensed and held my head tight between her thighs, and so closely against her pussy breath was impossible. "Uhhhh! Oh God! Yes! Yes Mister Conlin! Yes!"
. . .
I lowered her feet gently from my shoulders and let her legs fall freely over the bedside as she caught her breath, licking her lips and waving away wisps of loose hair from around her face. I stood and stepped to my nightstand, where I kept the coconut oil bottle. I unzipped my shorts and let them fall. I pulled my briefs down and off. My cock bobbed up and down like a freshly sprung jack-in-the-box. I looked at Lizvette to see if she was watching. Her eyes were fixed on my dick and unblinking. Good. I got harder.
I opened the bottle and poured enough oil to fill my palm. I stood facing Lizvette and soaked my shaft from tip to base. I was surprised myself at how hot it was. I looked at Lizvette and saw her eyes go from my cock to my face as her wide, bright smile appeared. "Nnnnggg hehe! That's what I was ready for, daddy."
Her feet were now back on the bed and her hands, one under each thigh, gently opened and let close her round, supple ass cheeks. Teasing me with a little peekaboo play, the dark cleft where her asshole waited now in, then out, of sight. But she didn't have to tease. I was aching for her and had been for days. I took my position between her open knees and lowered my own onto the edge of the mattress.
"Baby?" I rubbed my arched cock into the crevice of her pussy lips. "You know I can't leave Lois and Bethie ..."
"I would never ask you to."
"I know darling. I know. But ..."
She lifted her feet and pressed them comfortably against my chest, then pushed against me enough to lift her ass up and open for me.
"If I can find someone to perform a ceremony, one just for us..."
I tucked the head of my cock carefully between her cheeks, feeling the hollow opening where her asshole waited.
"Will you..."
"Daddy..."
I plunged in hard and fast and watched her back arch.
"... marry me?"
Her ass was so slickened and so silky around my cock I thought for a second or two that I was in her pussy. Had she lubed herself for me before coming over? Only the tight grip of her rim on the base of my dick confirmed I was deep up her little bubble butt.
"Baby?"
Her eyes were shut tightly and she was working to control her breath, enjoying the pleasure and coming to terms with the pain. I knew she would not be able to speak for a little while yet. I pulled slowly out to just below the tip, then plunged back in, reigniting in her the pleasure and pain cycle she loved. Again she labored to keep her breath rate down. She was so beautiful. So vulnerable, taking at once my cock where it didn't belong, and my proposal of illegitimate marriage.
Her muscles loosened after a few more pokes and thrusts and we settled into a rhythm that was very much like pussy-fucking. My cock felt as if it were electrified and her rim opened wider and wider for me. I could feel my balls hanging low and feeling so good pressed between the opening of her soft cheeks, damp and gingery-smelling.
She spoke at last in rhythm to our lovemaking.
"Be ... your ... daugh ... ter ..."
"You are my daughter, baby." Just speaking the words quickened my approaching orgasm. Just the word daughter did it. It always did.
"And ... your ... wife..."
"We can, baby. We can." My nuts were pulsing, ready to erupt, and my heart was pounding.
I saw a smile cross my Lizvette's face at last, and she sang, "Yes Daddy darling yesssss!"
I let my cum shoot into her ass as she panted. "My Daddy. ... My husband. ... My beautiful ... Darling ... William." At last I was empty. I lowered myself over her to kiss her face. As my lips touched her cheek, she whispered, "Yes, Daddy. I will marry you."
. . .
"You in a poker tournament? Bill, do you even know what a full house is?"
I had just informed Lois that I agreed to a two-night trip to Las Vegas with friends from the office who found a discount deal on airfare and hotel accommodations for four. "Paul and Don will play the poker. Chris and I will probably spend most of the time in the Keno lounge. Free drinks as long as we look like we're gambling, you know."
"You'll be in the strip joints ogling naked 20 year olds. I know you," she said with one eyebrow arched. "They're going to love you, too! Cute old man. They'll see dollar signs in your eyes."
"Whatever. I'm 50 years old. I'm way over that, dear." Images of the naked 15 year old I would actually be with filled my mind, her swaying bare breasts with nipples like chocolate kisses and an ass so ready and open my cock twitched at the memory of fucking it. "I would like to see Vegas again though. And this is not the first time they've asked me."
"Oh go ahead. You haven't had any time with your friends in a while, I know. Enjoy. Just remember. Look but don't touch!"
. . . . . .
Lizvette's getaway story was safe enough to avoid anyone coming looking for her, I thought. I instructed her to tell her parents that she was invited to spend the weekend with her boyfriend and his parents at his grandmother's home, where she would meet all of her future in-laws. Her parents believed that the father of her baby was a very shy 16 year old boy named Johnny, who was in fact truly in love with Lizvette, even to the point of agreeing to marry her and adopt the baby after high school. Lizvette had concocted on her own a lurid tale for Johnny that she had been d**gged and date-****d by a college boy whom she could not identify. "Johnny has loved me since we were little. He will really marry me! But I'll let him off the hook before then, Daddy," Lizvette had told me.
Our plans for the baby were still taking shape. I knew I would adopt, but I had yet to get Lois's agreement. I suspected she would accept the idea, once she saw that I was serious. But there was still plenty of time to plan all that. Till then, and especially at that point, a more immediate need for me was finding a way to seal my bond with, and my love for, Lizvette. I needed a ritual, a ceremony, a symbol for our love, something eternal and unbreakable. And, I believed, our c***d deserved it, too.
On the plane, Lizvette captured the attention of the flight attendant right away. "Oh! Are you cleared for take-off, Mom? How far along are you?" Lizvette wore a pale pink maternity blouse over white stretch pants. On the blouse, over her tummy, was an embroidered image a sleeping baby, making her condition quite obvious. Lizvette assured her all would be well as she slipped passed the aisle seat the attendant pointed out for her and settled in by the window. "Oh this is like the chair in your den Daddy! Soft leather." I took my seat next to her and nodded to the attendant. "She'll be fine."
We arrived, after a rather bouncy flight that kept the attendant nervous about Lizvette and the baby, at McCarran airport. The attendant ushered Lizvette and I off the plane before the others, and was very relieved to tell us "bye bye." In the terminal, as we rode down the escalator to the baggage claim - Lizvette packed way too much for two nights, I thought - I saw again the small Cessna suspended from the ceiling, an icon of Las Vegas history. "That's cute. A big toy airplane!"
We retrieved Lizvette's bags, picked up our rental car, and drove to our first destination, a small wedding chapel outside of town that catered to a very specific clientele. Driving the opposite direction from the strip confused Lizvette, who thought we were going straight to the Bellagio. "Are we going the right direction? All the hotels are behind us." Soon, I pulled into a lot and parked. She read the sign. "Secret Hearts Wedding Chapel."
She looked at me. "But Daddy I'm not in my gown! I thought we were marrying tomorrow?"
"We have to meet with the minister first, baby. I bought the deluxe package. We get the full ceremony with music and witnesses. We have some arrangements to make."
Her lips parted as she looked at me. "Oh Daddy. It really is happening." She held her cheek and took a deep breath. "I'm going to be your wife."
Was she having second thoughts? Had she thought this was all a silly joke?
"I'm so happy!" She took my hand and kissed it. Then, she looked at me suddenly and with some alarm asked, "But can I still call you Daddy?"
. . .
We entered the lobby of the chapel and were greeted by a pretty little girl of maybe 10 or 11, dark-complected and quite slim wearing a colorful dress of green and orange and red, with a white Hawaiian lei around her neck. "Welcome! Are you here to witness for Candy and Kit?" She was disappointed to hear that we were not. She asked us to wait, then disappeared into a side door, leaving us in the foyer. Beyond two opened double doors was the chapel, where a young man of about 22 or 24 stood waiting in a black jacket and a blue and white striped tie. Kit, I assumed. Chatting with him was, I recognized from his photograph on the website, Piero Cahuaya, minister of the Church of Spiritual Unification and proprietor of the Secret Hearts Wedding Chapel.
The girl reappeared from behind the door and hurried to Kit and the minister. They spoke briefly, then, all at once, looked in our direction. The girl stepped toward us and asked, "The couple wishes for you to witness their ceremony. Will you consent?"
"Oh yes! We would be thrilled!" Lizvette actually hopped with excitement.
To Lizvette, the girl said, "Perhaps you will like to assist the bride in her preparation? Please come this way." The girl led Lizvette to the adjoining room, while the minister motioned for me to enter the chapel.
"Oh yes, Mr. Conlin. Of course. We are running a little late. Our couple's witnesses ran into some difficulty, it seems." The minister spoke with a South American accent, but very softy and distinctly. Meester. Leetle. Weetneses. Deefeeculty. I told him we were a little early and expected a wait, but that Lizvette was very excited by the opportunity. "Your little girl is charming," he said. "Please meet Kit Donnelly. He and his natural sister Candy will be unified today. Mr. Donnelly, this is William Conlin."
Kit watched my face as I weighed the words I had just heard. He was marrying his sister. If he expected shock from me, he shouldn't have. "Oh," I smiled, understanding. "You must be very much in love. It is a very pure love, I know. Like no other." And I did know, of course. My own first loves had been my three sisters, my Three Graces. Often I thought, as I matured, that if they had not had husbands, I might not have needed, or wanted, a wife.
Kit offered his hand and I noticed it was quite warm and damp. He was a handsome young man, quite tall, very slim, with dark wavy hair and almond shaped eyes that seemed more focused on the chapel entrance than on anything else. Clearly he was anxious to be unified. His facial features were quite soft, almost feminine, but were contradicted by his dark beard, not quite manicured, that leant his face a boyish ruggedness.
Lizvette appeared from the doorway. "Daddy?" She turned toward us. "I need the car key. I need to get something out of my bag for Candy!" I gave her the key and told her to slow down. "There is no rush darling." Kit cleared his throat audibly at that. Lizvette looked at him. "Wait till you see her! She's beautiful like a model!"
It occurred to me then that Candy had been changing into her bridal clothes in the other room and that Kit would be seeing her in them for the first time. The same pleasure awaited me tomorrow, I thought, and I became a little anxious myself.
The minister said to Kit, "Mr. Conlin will unite with his young love tomorrow."
"She's cute. Congratulations," Kit said, quietly. I thanked him and said, "She has brought me so much. I am very happy I found Secret Hearts." I didn't feel comfortable then and there discussing my deeper motivations, so to make small talk, I almost asked how he and Candy met, but stopped myself before creating an awkward moment. Instead, I said, quite sincerely, "I'm sure you are going to be very happy."
"I've wanted this day all my life. I didn't dream it would really come," he stammered. "Well I mean I dreamed it. Of course, but I thought it would only, you know, just always be a dream." The minister chuckled. "Love should never have to remain a dream when it is within reach, my sons." Lizvette reappeared through the front door and vanished into the dressing room before I could yell, "Slow! Down!"
After a few minutes, the girl reappeared from the dressing room. "We are ready father." She dimmed the chapel lights so that only the alter where the minister now stood, and a pathway for the bride to walk, were lit. Organ music began and I noticed behind me a dark woman, of middle years, dressed in colors similar to the girl's, sitting at the keyboard. Only then did the tropical Hawaiian decor accenting the room become apparent to me. The girl stepped toward me with a blue lei. "Bend, please." I obeyed as she placed it around my neck. Around Kit's neck, she placed a white lei decorated with flowers of white petals and yellow centers.
Lizvette appeared, still dressed in her stretch pants and maternity top, but with a blue lei around her neck. She stood in the foyer looking into the dressing room, smiling, as Candy made her entrance. As Lizvette promised, she was beautiful like a model.
She wore a short white gown that hugged her torso closely, with an open neckline that showed her clear, brown eggshell-colored skin and her rather modest bustline. Around her narrow waist was a sash of blue and white stripes, mirroring Kit's tie. She wore sheer white stockings on her long legs, and white open-toed heels. As she came closer, I saw the same delicate features I had noted in her brother's face. Noticeably, her deep blue eyes differed from her brother's, piercing and bright, and her hair did not wave. It was long, lustrous and silky as it d****d one bare shoulder. Around her forehead, she wore a band of the same white and yellow flowers that decorated Kit's lei, and in her hand she held a matching bouquet.
I guessed her to be not much older than 30, but still quite youthful and, seeing her now from behind, quite shapely from the waist down. Her gown was gathered upward in the back, with the sash tied into a large bow. The design allowed a generous view of her legs and flattered a very pretty, very round bottom that sat nicely atop her long legs. At one point, she stooped forward just slightly, concealing a giggle at Kit's amazement at her, and I was treated to the sight of the tops of her stockings, including the blue and white garter peeking out from her right inner thigh.
"Christopher James," the minister spoke, "Will you now, in this sacred place, before these witnesses, pledge your physical and spiritual fidelity, forever more, to Candice Donna, having no other commitments before her, and promise to accept no others after her, for the remainder of this earthly life and the next?"
Candy look up at him, and again her pursed lips betrayed a concealed grin at his helplessness. "Yes. For forever. Yes," he said. Again her body bent slightly forward in concealed laughter. Candy's happiness at her brother's stupefication called memories of my middle elder sister Liliana to mind. How I loved her perfectly round heart-shaped ass. And how she loved teasing me, with playful peeks and flashes, like lifting her dress to show me her panties only to drop it after a second's worth of fun, or sitting on the living room chair with her knees tucked under her chin, her feet apart and her panties visible only to me, on the floor in front of her, always for her own amusement. I imagined Candy subjecting Kit to the same games. I remembered Lili's lingering caresses when she might surprise me from behind at the refrigerator in the kitchen, or at the washing machine in the laundry room, when she would squeeze between my legs, clawing with her long red nails at my balls, my ass, then laughing at my speechless shock as I hoped for more but could not ask for it. But Lili was never so cruel as to give me nothing, and never so generous to me as the night, not long after I turned 14, when after my shower I opened the bathroom door to find her waiting in the hallway in her double slit nightgown, blocking my path. She reached behind me, beneath the towel around my waist, patted my ass, kissed my lips, and lead me by the hand to her bed, where I was taught new lessons in lovemaking. That Candy loved Kit every bit as much was obvious and I could not help but smile at them, with memories of Liliana in my heart.
At last, when the minister put the sacred question to her, Candy's countenance grew solemn. She lifted Kit's hand to her heart, looked him deeply and earnestly in the eyes, and said, "I do."
"I pronounce you, Christopher and Candice, 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."
As Kit leaned down and pressed his lips to his wife's, I saw Candy's eyes close. A tear appeared beneath her long lashes, catching the light. As the meaning of the vows they had just taken washed over me, the vows I and Lizvette would exchange tomorrow, I watched another tear form and escape down Candy's cheek, before Kit's hand could wipe it away.
I turned to see Lizvette, now beside me, with a similar tear trail glistening on her little round cheeks. I held her face in my palm and bent to kiss it. I tasted again her salty flavor on my lips and I remembered the night I proposed to her, remembered the scents and tastes and sounds of her as I kissed her unwashed body, asking for her promise to be my wife. I licked now the salty liquid on my lips, savoring the memory, savoring the moment, savoring the very taste of joy.
. . . . . .
Annalisa
- 29.04.2020
- 31
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