I no longer drool around the gag, and I don’t have any tears left.Time passes.The only thing keeping me going is the assurance from my cold mind. It...��s positive that she will be back. She planned this out carefully. She isn’t going to stop with one orgasm.Time passes.Sudden hope surges. A distant door closed. I wait, but nothing else happens. Was it my imagination? No. Another distant sound saves me from my doubts. I wait, eager for her company. Willing to do anything for a cup of water.I’m too. "Ah! Oh. Daddy. I love it! I love you!"I turned down the radio and listened to her pluck the open strings, then a major 7th chord, then, to my surprise, "Listen to this, Daddy. Tell me if you recognize it," she began playing a personal favorite, the theme to the film "Merry Christmas, Mister Lawrence," a richly romantic Japanese love theme not written for guitar that Lizvette had obviously created her own arrangement of."Darling," I said, as much as a proud teacher as a lover of the music.. More

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