elise

"Elise," Chapter 7 -- no sex

Sandy

So the little she-devil wanted to play that, huh? I could see we were going to have some fun with this name-calling back and forth. But, as I moved down for Zirconia's second match of the day, I knew that my chances of having my dream realized had just taken a sharp turn for the better. 18-year-old Elise was aware of my intentions toward her, and she seemed open to them. Or at least she seemed open to discussing it, and I was eager to test her tolerance for, and eagerness to learn more about, a mild BDSM lifestyle that I hoped could be a remarkably fun and meaningful education in her developing sexuality, as well as one that could fill a need of mine at the same time.

Now, as I watched her and her team play, my mind drifted off to imagine what might be. And if it happened, how soon might it happen? The last thing I wanted to do is rush things, go too fast, frighten her, turn her off to erotic possibilities that could prove fulfilling, even life-changing, for her. Although I was starting to wonder whether anything really scared this girl. She seemed so sure of herself, of her capacity to understand life, people, and all the peculiarities and flavors contained therein. I was impressed as I'd ever been with anyone, particularly one of her tender age. And that was taking in a lot of territory. My daughter was, herself, quite an extraordinary person, and I had met some of Rachel's contemporaries, as well as a few of my younger co-workers over the years, who were equally as impressive. But there was something about Elise Madrigal that somehow surpassed all of them. I knew I'd identify just what it was in due course.

One thing for sure was that, even now, I was beginning to be able to project Elise and me as sexual partners. And it frightened me, particularly because she was almost certainly a virgin. With her unquestionably bright future ahead of her, and given that she could later find the perfect man closer to her own age with whom to couple permanently, did I, at my age and so much older than her, really want the responsibility of being her first? I had no experience with virgins, as Beth had had a couple of encounters in the time before we met at college and became a couple. I had to be very sure I could handle the emotional issues, the guilt, or anything else that might come of such an experience -- for me or for her.

When I finally focused back onto the match, I realized it was almost over. The Zephyrs were on their way to a hard-fought victory in straight sets, and a few minutes later completed just that. Before I knew it, I had moved back up to the corner, away from everyone else, and Elise, with a fresh sheen of perspiration on her from her typically strenuous efforts on the court, had moved back beside me.

"Good game," I said as she sat.

"It was," she responded with a smile, "although I don't know how much of it you actually saw. You looked to be a thousand miles away at times."

"Just what were you paying attention to, sweetie, me or the game?"

"I paid enough attention to the game. We won, and Coach had no complaints. Besides, I'm fully capable of multi-tasking." She gave me a gentle elbow in my side just to emphasize that point.

"Are you hungry? I'm starting to be," I asked.

"No, not really. I don't play well on a full stomach. That concession stand down there doesn't really have anything that would help me play well. I've had a couple nutrition bars and a couple of bottles of water throughout the day. That keeps me going just fine. Besides, Daddy," she said, looking at me, "I'm more interested in continuing our fascinating conversation that was so rudely interrupted by something so trivial as a volleyball game."

I chuckled. "Very funny -- babygirl. In truth, I want to get back to it as well."

Then she turned to me, and without warning, put her arms around me and pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back, feeling her lithe body, cooled from her sweat, against mine. The thrill of the momentary feeling surged through me, and I could feel my cock stir a bit inside my loose slacks.

As she loosened her grip, I inquired, "What was that for?"

She sighed contentedly. "Oh, just getting a little recharge for the convo and the next game ahead. You didn't mind, did you?"

"No, certainly not, although I think it advisable that we look more like uncle and niece, and less like lovers, in front of the part of the world represented in this gym."

"Oh, it was only a hug. And I haven't seen my favorite Uncle Sandy in such a long time, and I'm enjoying catching up with him." Grinning, she gently elbowed me again.

"For someone who's been left alone a lot, you're turning out to be an amazingly physical person, young Elise."

"That's probably precisely because I've been left alone. Now that we've done it a few times, I can feel that I crave hugs. I'm guessing that it feels a lot like a drug habit would to someone using for the first time."

"Might well, dear. I wouldn't know about that." I turned serious. "In our time left together today, I'll be glad to answer any questions you said you had. But first, I want to know something about you."

"Anything at all, Daddy Sandy," said she with a smirk.

Ignoring Elise's rather saucy rejoinder the best I could, I inquired, "So I will know just what to tell you and how to answer your questions, I would like to have a good idea of your sexual background. Have you had a formal grounding in sexual matters?"

"We had sex ed in school, so I know all the parts and functions. In addition, my mom made sure, early on, that I knew all the rest."

"Like what? 'All the rest' takes in a lot of territory."

"Well, a long time ago, before she went to work at the hospital, Mom was a nurse in a gynecologist's office. She told me one of the most tragic and horrible things about that job was the number of 16- or 17-year-old girls they saw, who were completely ignorant of their bodies and sex, things that they should have routinely known and been comfortable with. Mom told me that she'd be damned if I was going to be one of those."

"Sounds like, in at least that respect, your mom didn't ignore you at all."

"There were several things like that where Mom has been a help. I don't agree with people who say she's completely neglected me. She has provided me with what I've needed, but maybe just not all I might have wanted. She's just been too busy to be much of a part of my life beyond that, and since she's always there when I really need her, I've accepted that. I love her for what she's done for me, and I don't hold it against her when she doesn't have a lot of time for me."

"I have a much better opinion of her already, I think."

"Yeah, she's really a pretty cool person when you talk to her. I never wondered about anything when my periods started. And when they got pretty bad, she put me on the Pill, and I've been on ever since. She made it clear that that was also to protect me from an unwanted accident that could really change my life for the worse. By the way, she was also responsible for me learning to masturbate."

I raised my eyebrows at that. She continued. "Oh, it wasn't show and tell, or anything like that. But she had all these resources she got familiar with when she worked for the gyno. She pointed me to some good instruction videos online, stuff that others might consider porn, and using them, I taught myself all about getting my pleasure by myself. In every way I could. I was jilling off regularly by the time I was 13. Having orgasms, too. It's one of my favorite things to do, and I do it a lot during all the time I have alone at home. One more reason I haven't missed boys. I don't need 'em for anything. They can't do a thing for me I can't do for myself. And I don't have to put up with their stupidity, either.

"Anyway, through that first experience with 'naughty' videos online, I found porn. I've seen videos representing every kind of sex I can find. I like getting off to some of them. I also get off reading erotica -- steamy romances and such. I have a whole collection of them on my Kindle, some of them really hot, and I read them, along with almost everything else I can find free or for just a buck or two."

"Just from the way you talk, sweetie, I guessed you are well-read."

"Oh, yes, I love to read. All the time I have alone at home is a great gift when you love reading. I learn a lot about everything, and it passes the time. And keeps me out of trouble, I might add." She winked at me. "Some of the things we cover in school, I understand quicker and more easily because I've read something about it before."

"One more question if I may, Elise. Have you had sexual activity with anyone, either in person or online?"

"No, never. I don't like the idea of online sex. I wonder if I'd even like to try it. To me, sex is so personal a thing that it should be done in person, where you can experience all the emotions you're supposed to, along with someone you care about enough to share it all with. I don't think I'd have much fun writing about it to someone online, and spreading dirty pics of myself all over cyberspace doesn't seem like a good move to me."

"I sort of agree with the online thing. I've never gotten into it. I think being selective is a good decision on your part. So my dear, all this means you're a virgin?"

She looked right at me, and matter-of-factly said, "Am I a virgin? Yes. Do I have a hymen? No. That was gone the first time I stuck a dildo inside myself at 13 or 14. I knew what to expect then, too, again thanks to Mom and reading about others' experiences, so losing it was a routine thing, a little one-time pinch of pain, not scary at all."

"Elise, baby, I'm just stunned at the way you can forthrightly share the information you have with an older man who you don't yet know very well, without a hint of embarrassment or hesitation, like it's the most natural thing in the world."

"I think I know you pretty well already, Daddy. To me it IS natural. Something everyone does, or at least should do, either by themselves or with others. I don't understand why people insist on making a big thing about it. It's not something to be ashamed of. It's something to enjoy when the right time comes."

She glanced down at the action below, all but forgotten by us during this latest conversation. "And you'll have to excuse me now, I have another game coming up. I'm going to head down. See you afterward?"

"You know it, dear."

"Good. I'll get to show you my car. I brought it today and parked it out a ways. And we can talk some more if you want. I won't need to run home right away."

"Looking forward to it, babygirl." I looked right at her when I used the word this time.

Looking right back at me, not giving an inch, she shot back, "Later then, Daddy," and sauntered down the bleachers to rejoin her team for the final time today. I shook my head in wonder. This was some young lady I had befriended. I wondered whether she'd still seem so enthusiastic after I gave her my take on BDSM and the way I practiced it.

***************

Since I was getting pretty hungry and didn't have to worry about playing, I went down and got a warmed-over hot dog and a soda from the concession stand, getting back before Elise's last match of the day started. I settled in and watched the warm-ups. I had already seen enough matches to tell that this opponent was going to be the toughest one of the day for the Zephyrs.

They proved to be exactly that. Zirconia narrowly won the first set, the first one its opponent had lost all day. But then the rest of the match went the way of the visitors, who sailed to victory in the last two sets, despite Elise's and her team's best efforts.

I climbed down after the match, waiting for Elise to emerge from the bowels of the gym. When she finally did, I realized this was the first time I'd ever seen her in pants of any type, other than when playing. She was wearing a nice pair of what looked to my untrained eyes to be designer jeans, perfectly tapered snugly to her long legs. That was accompanied by a nice knit top, which finally confirmed my initial thoughts about the modest size of her breasts.

She was visibly dragging a little as she approached. "Tough game, huh?", I said as I touched her on the shoulder.

"Yeah. We're all worn out. These tournaments are always like that. I think even Coach Nicholson was worn out. Amazingly, she didn't yell at us at all. I don't think she had the energy. Instead, she tried that old tactic that parents use when they don't know what else to do. She just went for the guilt, told us how disappointed she was in us and in the results of that last match. It was quite amusing to me. Most everyone else looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but there, but I had to stifle a giggle or two, long enough to shower and get out of there."

"Maybe she had a right to be disappointed with the result of the match, but if she was disappointed with your team, I think she was unjustified in that. You guys played hard, as always, but it was one of those times that once the other team buckled down and got the momentum, you looked a little overmatched. Like I said before, sometimes you just have to give them their due and move on."

"Yeah Sandy, I've tried to internalize some of what you said about that last week. It sure makes losing a little easier to take. Besides," she said with a smile, "I'm looking forward to finally having our conversation about BDSM," and lowering her voice, "Daddy."

I glanced about nervously. There were still players and their family members exiting the gym. The last thing I wanted is to be overheard. "Sweetie, let's continue this outside, OK?"

"Sure." She seemed to get a burst of energy just then. "I want to show you my car anyway. And we can sit comfortably and have our talk."

We walked companionably out to the edge of the parking lot nearest the road. You certainly couldn't miss her car. It did stand out. I didn't know a lot about old cars, but if Elise's dad had dubious tastes in choice of paint colors, otherwise it looked like he knew what he was doing. The vintage vehicle looked to be beautifully and lovingly restored down to the last detail.

Elise opened the driver's side door, throwing her duffel in the back seat. She got in, releasing the passenger side lock. "Get in, Sandy. We can lower the windows a little and talk. No one anywhere close."

I opened the door and slid in. It was a bench seat. I would never knock the comfort of bucket seats, but being on a bench seat brought back some fond childhood memories of sitting in the back seat of Dad's old car, driving around the countryside on a Sunday afternoon. I told Elise as much as I got comfortable.