In the morning while I am getting her ready to go to school, Laryssa seems a little preoccupied, even unfriendly, and says nothing about the events of the night. And if she doesn't want to discuss it, then neither do I! But when her friend Sophie and her mother, Mrs Collins, comes to pick her up, my granddaughter gives me a big hug and a wet kiss on the cheek and tells me she loves me. So, everything is all right between us after all.
That evening, after dinner, Laryssa has her ballet class. I drop her off and return home to clear up the dishes. She wanted me to stay and watch, but I didn't think that her dance teacher would look kindly on a 'dirty old man' leering at her nubile young charges. Laryssa kept her leotards on under her clothes after I collected her and brought her home. We watch television for a short while, while she has a cool drink; then I say to her that it is bedtime.
She gets up from her seat and tries to pull me to my feet. "Give me a shoulder carry, Grandpa," she begs, "like you used to when I was a little girl… Pleeeeze!"
"Oh, all right then, but you're getting a bit big for that kind of thing. Especially for an old fella like me!" I grumble, pretending to be annoyed. But I am secretly pleased, of course! And my pleasure grows exponentially when my granddaughter chides me and tells me I am not at all old. Plus, the clasp of her warm, smooth thighs against the sides of my neck is a bonus!
I used to lift weights and have stayed very fit all my life, so carrying Laryssa is no problem. When we get to her room, I dump my granddaughter rather unceremoniously onto her bed and turn to leave. "No, stay with me for a minute!' she wheedles. Weakly, I give in to her demands. I am ordered to: "Sit on the floor over there while I get my things ready for the morning."
I do as I am told, looking on with interest as she assembles clean panties and socks and makes sure there are no marks on her uniform shirt that would make her have to wear a clean one. My daughter made Laryssa responsible for washing and ironing her own school clothes, so she makes sure they are looked after a lot better than some other girls of her age.
Then she starts to undress. I am transfixed and utterly enchanted at the matter of fact way she takes her clothing off with me watching. But, when she gets down to her leotards, Laryssa flaps her hand in the direction of the door and says, "Time for you to go now."
"Oooooer!" I whine in a theatrical show of disappointment, which is very real inside, and start to scramble to my feet.
Laryssa puts her hand on my head and pushes me to the floor again. "Oh, I suppose you can stay, but Naughty Grandpa mustn't stare!"
She turns her back to me and strips off her leotards, taking her panties off at the same time. My granddaughter's slim bare back and firm rounded little dancer's bum are utterly captivating!
My whole insides lurch when I catch a glimpse of the small bare curves of her breasts. Unreasoning desires to reach out with my hands and touch her flood through me. How I wish I could pull her to me and turn her around to face me, to run my hands over that softness and to sniff at her wonderful girl-scent! But she dons her pyjamas in a flash and the chance, if she ever intended there to be one, is lost.
Laryssa turns around and announces, "There! All done!" and then turns and scrambles into her bed. Reluctantly, I make my creaky way to my feet. My 'little girl' makes me feel very old and very young, both at the same time. Laryssa already has her arms extended for a hug and a kiss, but her eyes are fixed on the area below my belt. The bulge in my pants does not disappoint her.
"Will you come and see me again later on tonight?" she asks me ingenuously as I turn off the light and pull her door partly closed.
"Do you really want me to?" I ask, praying for only one answer.
"Yes."
"Ok, I will."
I try to tell myself that I have no intention of doing so, but deep down inside I know that I will not be able to resist.
2.30am arrives and I cannot hold off any longer. But this time I make sure that my shorts are securely buttoned. Laryssa wakes up and stretches sleepily as I enter her room, preceded by my already swelling erection. Tonight she has not pushed her covers off. Disappointment is a cold stone in the pit of my belly. She holds her arms out to me, "Kiss, kiss."
This time I kiss her full on the lips; warm soft innocence almost breaks my heart.
She pulls her duvet to one side and moves across the bed to make room for me to half-lay beside her. Her eyes are large, black-centred violet pools in the dim light. "Can you rub my tummy, Grandpa. I've got that funny feeling in there again."
Without hesitating, I slip my hand beneath the duvet. It is like putting my hand into a furnace! Quickly I find Laryssa's silky skin. She has pulled her pyjama top high up on her chest. She flinches at the coolness of my fingers, then relaxes and lets me fondle her, gazing at my face all the while.
I trace the outlines of her ribs, go higher, and find a swelling globe topped by a tiny nipple.
"That's not my tummy, Grandpa!" Laryssa chuckles. "You are being extra naughty again!"
"Do you want me to stop?"
"Oooh no! It feels nice!"
I coax the little nubbin erect, then find the other and do the same. My hand swoops slowly down her length, over her navel to the waistband of her bottoms. Silence, ragged breathing, insistent adult caresses on an exquisitely smooth teenage body, involuntary, unknowing, innocent lifting movements of Laryssa's abdomen and, finally, expert fingers undo the protecting button.
My fingers crawl tantalisingly down her belly towards her naked, podgy mound and then the delicate upper groove of her sex.
"Grandpa," she breathes, "Grandpa, can I look at your willie again?"
I manage to croak, "Ummmm, yes, if you really want to."
"Yes, Grandpa, I do."
