Mouse Bk. 02 Ch. 03

<8 An Unexpected Guest

Mouse was up early, while Michael slept in, spent and content. He opened his eyes when she came back into the sunny bedroom wearing a tight black leotard. She sat beside him on the bed, and allowed his hand to glide up the smooth form fitting fabric, caressing her from her thigh to her breast, where he paused to lightly stroke her nipple. He lay back and watched contentedly as it quickly hardened under his touch.

"I don't have time, I have a dance class," she told him. "Now everyone's going to see that," she reprimanded, but with a smile. She bent over to kiss him on the forehead.

"Can't I come and watch?" he asked, breathing into her neck as she held her lips against him. His hands found her narrow waist and held her a moment longer.

She pulled back, beaming. "Sure. I'd like that," she said. "You'll have to hurry, I don't want to be late. This is the best exercise I get all week."

She got up and headed out of the room.

"Usually," she added over her shoulder, with a grin.

* * *

A sprinkle of sweat gave Mouse a soft sheen around her hairline when she had finished. Michael had thoroughly enjoyed watching her, and the other dancers, go through their routines, Mouse noticed. Some of the moves were very erotic, and she enjoyed watching his reactions.

She even enjoyed having him watch the other women, slyly checking them out when he thought neither they nor she was looking. She knew he didn't want them, he only wanted her. She noticed that a few of them sensed and enjoyed the secret attention, too, but they were no threat.

"What do you want to do with the rest of the day?" she asked as they stepped onto the street after the class. She looked at the whiskers on his cheeks and chin, left there when he'd had to hurriedly dress to join her in time. She had since asked him not to shave at all today. A days worth of short growth made him look older, and sexier, to her. She liked thinking of him as a bit of a rogue.

"I think I wore you out too much to spend all day in the Mouse Hole," she suggested. They held hands as they walked.

"Want to act like kids?" he asked.

Mouse glanced sidelong at him, wondering what he meant by that.

"Would you like Daddy to take you to the zoo?" Michael asked a bit nervously, his eyes focused uncertainly on nothing in particular straight ahead of them.

Mouse hesitated. She looked at him steadily as they walked, her slightly furrowed brow demonstrating confusion and curiosity that she didn't really feel. She knew what game he wanted to play. It sent a quick thrill through her. She was surprised at his audacity.

She slid closer to him, slipping her hand under his arm, holding it near the elbow. "Sure, Daddy. Sounds like fun," she answered in a little girl voice, playing along.

* * *

The zoo was just a short walk from her apartment. It was a small affair in the middle of Lincoln Park, near the lake, right in the midst of an array of high rise apartment buildings. Not far from there Clark Street offered an array of shops and eateries.

They made a long, simple day of walking around, giggling at things. He called her "sweetie" and "princess" and "little girl", and she called him "Daddy". Not often enough, or loud enough, to draw too much attention, but the game was constantly being played.

It was a cool, overcast day, an early sign of fall. The weather gave a somber, urgent feel to everything they did. Low, uneven clouds of shifting shades of gray cruised rapidly by overhead. They were a high ceiling of anger and sorrow and urgency personified. They made it seem as if everything was in motion, everything was alive and racing.

Throughout the day Mouse kept stopping complete strangers, asking them to take pictures of Mouse and Michael together, as if they were tourists. She got pictures of them standing arm in arm at the zoo in front of the elephants, holding hands in front of the boats in Diversey Harbor, mugging in front of the place they stopped for hot dogs. They took a perfunctory one in the park with the city skyline in the background. They took one with her securely nestled and snuggling under both of his arms at the rocks on Lake Michigan. She couldn't wait to see that picture, with the gray sky and the angry, dark, churning gray-green lake behind them.

Mouse also found a wonderfully rewarding variation on the "Daddy" game when she found a dress she really liked.

"Will you buy it for me, Daddy?" she asked sweetly.

"Do you like it? Okay, then. Anything for you, princess," was Michael's easy reply.

By the third outfit, he tried to change the rules.

"I think you have enough clothes for one day, don't you, little girl?" he asked. She pouted and pretended to a throw a small tantrum, and he eventually gave in. But she didn't ask for any more clothes after that. Three was enough. For one day, at least.

Late in the day, as the light was fading from the cloudy sky, they wandered into a used bookstore near her apartment, just to kill some time. Mouse immediately hunted down the trashy romance novels. She eagerly flipped through them, reading the juicy bits out loud, to Michael's discomfort. She found it funny, especially his embarrassment as she continued to call him "Daddy" between readings. "Listen to this, Daddy," she cooed, or "Ooooh, Daddy, here's a good part."

The public setting gave it an edge that she pushed to the limit with her little girl voice. He was listening between the lines, too, she realized, replacing in his mind the romantic, indirect descriptions as they were written with the colorfully vulgar language he'd read last night. She was sure he was adding even more words to fill in the the blurry implications with the sharply focused truths of his experiences. She felt a warm wetness spreading in her panties by the time she'd grown tired of the game.

She had to get him alone.

As they left the shop, a sudden downpour hit them from a storm that had barreled in quickly, in typical midwest fashion, while Mouse had been reading melodramatically to Michael about "creamy thighs" and "burning kisses". As the first large drops hit them, Michael ducked under an awning, trying to pull Mouse with him. She fought back, laughing, tugging him out into the rain with her.

"Come on, Daddy, let's run, it's not far," she shouted, giving his arm a jerk. He gave in readily. They both ran like children, laughing, hand in hand down the street. Occasionally Mouse opened her mouth to catch the drops on her tongue.

It was farther than she'd said, and the rain came down in sheets. By the time they reached the foyer of her building they were utterly drenched. Mouse's hair was even darker now, almost black, matted against her head with thick wet strands falling across her eyes. Her face glistened with small, shimmering droplets. She felt soaked.

Michael was no better. He stood face to face with her, looking down first at her eyes, then at her chest. Mouse glanced down to see her thin white shirt soaked and clinging to her breasts. Their outline was now obvious against the fabric. The full circles of her dark nipples showed clearly, too. The tips stood out like erasers, hard, erect and mercilessly beckoning to him.

Knowing the effect it would have, she inhaled deeply, letting the intake of breath push her chest up and out, expanding it, making her tits stretch her shirt further. Her tits grew before his very eyes. The nipples were reaching out to touch him, begging him to touch them. She giggled inside at the effect she was sure this was having on him.

She let her eyes rise up to study his face, while he was still entranced with her breasts. The look on his face consumed her. She was filled with lust for him. She felt her own face flood with the feeling, unable and unwilling to control it. His eyes came up to meet hers, and recognized her passions immediately. He reached out to her, putting his hands on the small of her back to pull her against him. He lifted her gratefully into a deep, passionate kiss.

They were still locked in the kiss and the embrace when they heard the security door click, as someone else exited the building. They broke apart suddenly, caught off guard. Both turned to see a young blonde, Mouse's immediate neighbor, walk by them and out with a slightly embarrassed smile on her face. Mouse brazenly called her back to ask her to take a picture of them, soaking wet, there in the foyer. As soon as she had her trophy and the woman was gone, Mouse took Michael's hand to pull him with her toward her waiting apartment.

* * *

Mouse left Michael to close the door as she scurried, dripping, into her bathroom.

"I'll be right back. Don't sit on anything! Don't get anything wet," she yelled out.

As quickly as she could, she stripped herself naked. Grabbing a towel, she dried her body. She started to dry her hair, then caught her own reflection in the mirror. She decided she liked the wet, tousled, unkempt look. It made her look vulnerable. She stopped there and took the towel with her into the bedroom.

She pulled on a new pair of white panties, and a short, tight t-shirt, one that she'd cut off half way, so the bottoms of her breasts showed. She pinched her nipples, to be sure they were firm. Lastly, she grabbed a dress shirt and tie from Michael's bags, and the towel, and hurried out to him.

He stood in the middle of the room, having taken her quite literally, refusing to sit down. She threw the towel to him, giggling.

"Here, dry off," she ordered, then threw his shirt and tie onto the couch. "Then put these on."

"What, no pants?" Michael asked with a smile.

Mouse's only reply was a tight-lipped smile of her own, and a silly wiggle of the eyebrows.

"And no more lingerie?" Michael added. "I'm very disappointed."

"Nice girls don't wear lingerie in front of their daddy's, silly," she said, returning to their game. With that, she padded into the kitchen while he changed.

"Would you like some coffee to get warm?" she yelled out. When she didn't get a reply, she began making enough for both of them.

As he came in, she purposely turned her body halfway away from him, to face the cabinet with the cups. She stood on tip toe, reaching, letting her ass protrude nicely and letting the too short t-shirt rise, exposing the bottoms of her nipples. She made a show of being unable to reach the cups.

"Can you help me, Daddy?" she asked in a sweet little voice.

Mouse looked askance at him briefly, admiring how sexy he looked in the shirt and tie, with no pants. His cock had obediently followed her lead. It was hardening and lengthening at the sight of her. She smiled to herself as she went back to rummaging in the cabinet.

She listened to Michael's bare, wet feet as he stepped on the kitchen tiles. His cock felt wonderful pressing against the top of her ass and the small of her back as he reached over her to take out two cups and saucers. Still on tip toes, Mouse looked up over her shoulder at him with her best big brown eyes.

"Thank you, Daddy" she said smiling, then shyly dropped her eyes to his tie. Unable to restrain herself, her gaze immediately fell further down to his cock. She let herself touch it once, quickly, with only two fingers. She spun completely around so that it pressed against her belly, and in a moment of further weakness she bent her knees, lowering herself just far enough to let it slide up under her half shirt, into the space between her breasts.

She raised and lowered herself several times, enjoying the feel of its hot, hard skin against her smooth, soft tits. For her last stroke she squeezed her her own breasts together with two hands, tightening their grip on his cock. She looked up at him, again giving him her best big, brown eyed, little girl look. He was smiling contentedly, looking down on her, enjoying the show and the sensation.

Mouse planted a loud kiss on his shirt, right in front of her face, then another slightly higher. She worked her way up his shirt, leaving a trail of light, noisy kisses. When she was finally upright and on her toes again, she slid her arms around his neck. She gave him a peck on the neck, then the cheek, and then finally found her way to his lips.

He kissed her hard, surprising her. She responded immediately, opening her mouth to his tongue and moaning into him. His mouth was so much larger than hers, their lips touched, but his seemed to consume hers entirely, and then some. The feel of his beard scratched her chin. His tongue was huge, too. Instead of waiting for hers to find and caress it, it impatiently forced its way past her lips, pushing her own tongue aside, then circling it like an angry, spiraling bird of prey.

He smelled like a father, too, she thought, a mix of natural musk and "old man" cologne. She needed to buy him something better, she thought, but for tonight this was perfect. She melted into his arms and his mouth, losing herself in her game.

Abruptly, she pushed him away and strode out of the kitchen.

"I'm tired, Daddy," she said without looking back. "I think I'm going to bed."

He didn't follow her immediately, but instead stood in the kitchen, enjoying the sight of her tempting walk.

"Remember to come tuck me in, Daddy," she called to him, as she disappeared into the hallway.

* * *

Mouse lay on the bed on her back to wait. She positioned herself with her knees over the edge of the bed, so her lower legs hung down toward the floor. She spread her thighs, opening and exposing her crotch. Her half shirt was purposely pulled up, to expose the points of her nipples. While she waited she slipped her own hand into her wet cunt, more as an erotic tease for him than because she wanted to touch herself. She'd done this enough over the long years. She wanted him.

Before long Michael appeared in the doorway.

He looked handsome and mature in the shirt and tie, with a full day's growth on his face. There was a lot of gray in his beard, something she had never noticed because he kept his head shaved bald, to mask the paucity of hair there. It reminded her how old he was, that in some ways he was almost old enough to be her father. It was exciting.

His cock stuck out between the front tails of his shirt, like a dinosaur poking its head out of a cave. Mouse almost giggled at the thought, then caught herself, afraid of ruining the mood. But little girls do giggle, she thought, and so she let it out.

"Do you know how to fuck, Mona?" the man asked from the door.

"Show me, Daddy," was her instant reply. "Teach me how to fuck."

"You want me to, Mona? You want daddy to teach his little girl how to fuck?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Michael stood over her, right at the edge of the bed. He leaned over and reached out with one hand to rub the outside of her panties, feeling the soft folds of her pussy through the fabric.

"Take your hands out of your panties, Mona," he ordered.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whimpered, jerking her hands out quickly. She brought a wet hand up to her mouth, first sucking on the finger tip, then opening her mouth in a smile and biting it lightly, seductively with her teeth.

She closed her eyes as Michael's hand explored her cunt briefly. She wiggled and squirmed, just a bit, pretending it was too sensitive to be touched. Soon he impatiently slipped thick fingers into the waistband to pull them down past her ankles.

He looked at her a moment, admiring her. She peeked at him slyly through half closed lids, enjoying the dawning realization on his face that she'd shaved herself clean there, for him. She had done it on a whim that morning, when dressing for dance class, against her better judgement.

It made her look younger, like a teenager, and that went against her own carefully crafted self-image, and her dislike for her already childlike body. But it did add a titillating edge to things, a virginal look that was hard to beat and sure to excite him in the right context. And the daddy-daughter game they'd been playing all day was certainly the right context. It now achingly promised to give Mouse an exquisite conclusion.

"Daddy has to kiss you now, baby," he said, then lowered his mouth to her cunt lips. She felt the abrasive scratch of his short whiskers against her inner thighs, then the sudden bathing warmth as his mouth tried to take her whole pussy in like a woman swallowing a cock. His tongue snaked out and flicked around the edges, then drove briefly into her wet hole and out again. It finally worked its way up the folds of her slit toward her swollen clitoris. When Michael found it, he hesitated.

"Holy shit, Mouse!" he whispered, hovering just inches above it, eyes locked on the spot. "It's almost huge!"

Mouse laughed, then lifted her hips off the bed to push her clitoris against his mouth.

"Do you like it, Daddy? It's big and hard. It's my little mouse cock, and it wants to fuck your mouth," she said with a playful squeak, still using her little girl voice. She maneuvered her swollen clit up into the crease of his lips, then vibrated her hips quickly, making small, sharp thrusting motions into his mouth, fucking him just as she'd said. He grabbed her ass in his strong hands to help hold her up, and responded to her fucking by massaging her cunt around the clitoris with his lips, and by driving his tongue hard against her clit itself.

"Oh, yes, Daddy. I like that. Is this fucking, Daddy, are we fucking now?" she asked demurely.

With this he forced her hips back down to the bed with his mouth and face. He hungrily devoured her pussy, sometimes wandering wetly and aimlessly over it with his mouth, other times carefully but energetically playing with her amazing clitoris with his tongue, and still other times just kissing the flesh around it, softly saying "Daddy loves you, baby, Daddy loves you very much."

Mouse lay on her back, lost in the dream world of her brother-father's mouth and her sister-daugher cunt, both hot and wet, each fucking the other. That dream shattered when she felt his hands grip her hips firmly, lift her and almost violently spin her over onto her stomach. She giggled and squealed at the shock. Once on her belly, she squirmed invitingly, knowing he must be looking with longing at her adorable, little girl ass. She raised her hips a few inches off the bed, opening her cunt to him, giving him a clear invitation.

"Put it in me, Daddy," she pleaded. "Please put it in me now."

She held her body like that, with her ass up, her cunt wide and greedy, for what seemed an eternity. He waited, torturing her, letting her continue to offer herself to him, and to beg.

"Please, Daddy? Please? Put it in now, please?" she squealed.

And suddenly he was in her, not gently, not slowly, but driving deeply into her, up to the hilt, all at once. It was painful at first, though more of a shock than physical discomfort. She felt the full girth of his cock stretch her cunt lips in a way she didn't remember. She had thought her cunt was slippery and ready, that she'd had him fully inside her a half dozen times in delight, yet this time she felt like he might split her.

The length of it shocked her too. It felt as if it had entered her more deeply than he ever had, than any man ever had. The slight bend in his cock took her differently this way, from behind, driving up and into the wet hot flesh at the back of her hole, touching her in ways and places he never had. It stretched and it hurt and it filled her, until finally it felt right, it felt like it belonged, like it was a perfect fit.

"Oh, yes, Daddy," she squealed. "Yes, yes, yes, that's..."

And then it was gone. He'd pulled out of her, leaving her feeling empty and lonely. Her eyes opened wide in confusion. She stared at the headboard, her body as tight as a board itself, waiting for him to return.

"Where are you, Daddy? Put it in me again, please. Please, I need you in me again, Daddy."