Lizzie McGuire: Lizzie McGuire And Her Dad Part 4: The First Part Of Freedom
by Ambush Bug ([email protected])
I finished closing up right at five o'clock. Henry was still in the back,
working on the books, and I went to see if he was ready to go. I found him
sitting in front of his computer, rapidly punching away at the keys.
"I'm locked up," I told him from the doorway.
"Okay, sweetie," Henry said, still hitting keys. "Just give me one more
I came into his office and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. My
feet hurt from being on them for the past five hours and I casually reached
down and took my shoes off. Henry, still typing, said, "Don't stop there,
hon. Go ahead and get naked if you want."
I laughed and said, "You know, I should get a fifty dollar bonus for every
time I let you do it with me. I'd be totally rich then."
"Yeah, Lizzie, and I'd be totally broke." He looked at me and smiled. "But it
would be a very satisying broke."
Of course, it was an unspoken agreement betweeen us now that I didn't have
to screw him in order to keep my job. We'd been doing it for two months,
and what had started out as a simple business arrangement had grown into
something else. I wasn't exactly sure what, but it was obviously not the
loveless contract we'd started out with. That was one of the things on my
mind, one of the things I wanted to talk to him abobut but I couldn't
decide if I should bring it up now or wait until after we made love.
Made love. Did we do that? Had our relationship progressed beyond mere
fucking? I suspected that it had, and if I was going to mention the L word
in any way shape or form, I was going to have to wait until the afterglow.
The other thing I wanted to talk to him about would have to wait too.
Henry finished with a flurry of keystrokes, then grabbed the mouse and
started clicking. I waited with my hands in my lap. When he was finished he
shut off his computer and sat back in his chair, regarded me with a tired
but appreciative look.
"Done for the day," he said. "At least, I'm done with work. Do you want to go
"I dunno. Do you?"
Our relationship, if you could call it that, had apparently reached that
stage where neither of us could make a decision if it involved the other one
in any way. I thought that was kind of nice.
"How about dinner?" Henry asked.
"You know what I'd like?" I asked in return. "I'd like to go back to those
heady days of yesteryear when you told me we were going to dinner." That
wasn't really true; I was just fishing.
Henry got up and came around to the front of his desk and took my hand. I
stood up and he embraced me, pushed his crotch against my stomach. I put my
arms around his neck and we touched noses. He kissed me quickly on the lips
and said, "I think we both know that isn't the way it works anymore." He
kissed me again.
"How does it work?" I asked, taking a huge chance. It was very close to
asking him if he loved me. The weird thing was I wasn't exactly sure what I
wanted him to say.
Henry kissed me again, then kissed my cheek, then my neck.
"I really care for you, Lizzie," he said, his breath warm in my ear. "And I
think you might care for me too." He was caressing my back now, which was
one of the quickest ways in the world to turn me on. And his cock waill ill
pushing gently against my stomach.
"I do care for you," I said. I wanted to say more but I didn't.
We ended up going back to his place. Henry rented a small one bedroom
apartment in the heart of the downtown area. He kept it neat and clean, but
sparsely furnished, and there were no plants anywhere or pictures on his
walls. I kept telling myself I was going to do something to change that, but
had never felt comfortable enough; I was worried that he would think I was
trying to encroach too much on his life. Now, though, as we sat together on
his sofa with glasses of wine and soft music coming from his stereo, I
thought maybe he wouldn't mind. After all, we cared for each other now.
I was visualizing some leafy plants in his living room window when he set
his wine glass on the coffee table and scooted closer to me, slipping his
arm around my shoulders. He took my wine glass and set it next to his, then
embraced me and kissed my lips. I kissed him back, held him as we fell
together onto the sofa. I opened my legs and he moved between them like it
was the most natural thing in the world.
It is, though, isn't it? I thought.
We kissed feverishly for about a minute, then Henry stopped, sort of half
gasped, and whispered in my ear, "Let's go to bed, Lizzie."
It sounded like a command, but I knew it was a request. I smiled and said
okay. We went into the bedroom together and took each other's clothes off,
slowly but with a sense of purpose. We were calm and casual when we crawled
onto the bed, embraced, kissed and fondled each other, but underneath it was
something else, a kind of quiet emergency, a necessity that we knew we'd
fulfill and yet couldn't be sure about until it was done. I liked that
feeling, and the sound of the rain outside Henry's window, and the fact that
it was just a little chilly in his apartment because he hadn't turned the
heat on. It made me feel like I was really alive for the first time in my
life, that I was experiencing things and not just letting them happen.
When he entered me I was glad. I'd been waiting for this, wanting it for
such a long time. He held me and kissed me and pushed his cock into me, and
I opened up for him, moved my hips and almost drew him inside. I held him
tightly and kissed his neck, gasped in his ear, said "Yes, yes," as he
fucked me. I kept my voice light and soft, the way he liked it. I wanted to
sound as young as possible, as innocent and new as I could be. I wanted to
be his babydoll, his little girl, his child. I would have called him Daddy
if he'd asked me to.
Henry held me, his hands under my shoulder blades as he gently and
rhythmically fucked me. He kissed my face, my eyelids, my forehead, nibbled
my earlobe. He kissed my neck and my collarbone. He licked my breasts and
nipples, sucked on them. He grunted and gasped as his cock moved inside of
me. I moved with him, loving the sensation of him on top of me, inside of
me, rushing along with him toward the sweet fire of orgasm. I knew it then,
as the boiling wave of pleasure burst through me, that I was in love, and
that I wasn't going to be afraid to tell him.
In the afterglow, we lay together in his bed, our hands moving leisurely
over each other's bodies. It was still raining outside, adding a sweet sound
to our breathiand and I sighed with satisfaction. Henry kissed my cheek as
his fingers traced my spine, making me shiver. I breathed in the masculine
smell of his skin and cologne, let it out slow.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I love you too, Lizzie," he said. He caressed the small of my back, which
made me shiver some more. "And I was thinking about asking you something."
Uh oh. Was he going to ask me to marry him? I hoped not; I hadn't even moved
out on my own yet, and we'd only just now said we loved each other. It was
way too soon. Besides, I was only fifteen. I wouldn't even be legally old
enough for another four months.
"What?" I squeaked.
Henry hugged me and I nuzzled my nose into the spot where his shoulder curved
into his neck.
"Well," he said, "I know you've been wanting to move out on your own, and I
was just thinking that, if you wanted to, you could move in here with me." He
waited for a minute, then asked, "Would you like that, Lizzie?"
I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say yes, but I wasn't sure it would
be such a good idea. Okay, moving in wasn't the same as getting married, but
there were still concerns; he really didn't know me that well, didn't know
all the things about me that he should. And I was suddenly terrified of to
hug him. Because I could lose him so easily, I saw that now. One wrong
confession, one secret told too early could ruin everything. My joy suddenly
turned to frustration and disappointment.
"Okay," Henry said, "we don't have to move that fast. We can wait for a
"I'm sorry," I said, not believing I was actually having to say it. "I
just....I have things to do first, you know? It's not you, Henry, really. I
love you, I do. It's just....things are so complicated...." My dad's face
appeared in my mind and I couldn't keep myself from crying.
"It's alright, Lizzie," Henry said. He hugged me tight and stroked my hair.
"It's alright, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
I just kept crying, wishing that that was true.
I had to go home, eventually. After laying in bed together for an hour or so
we got up and ordered pizza, talked about work and other safe nonrelationship
things while we ate, then, at six o'clock, Henry grabbed his keys off the
coffeble ble and said, "Okay, I guess it's time to relinquish you back to the
care of your family."
He was just trying to be humorous, of course, but the remark gave me another
jolt of pain, and I thought, My family doesn't care about me. Which wasn't
entirely true; I knew my mom cared about me, and my dopey brother Matt cared
about me in his own ridiculous twelve year old boy way, but my dad, he didn't
care about me at all. I almost told Henry then, could feel the words pushing
up from my throat and threatening to blurt out of my mouth.
I'd gone back into his bedroom to pick my coat up from the spot on the floor
where I'd tossed it when I heard the noises coming through the wall. A girl
moaning. Then another girl moaning. Henry came in and he heard it too, looked
at me and smiled.
"My new neighbors," he said.
"What are they doing over there, having an orgy?" I asked.
"No, it's just two of of them."
"Two of them? But there's only girls' voices."
As if on cue one of the girls cried out that she was coming. I couldn't help
"Elaine and Amy," Henry said. "They moved in almost a week ago."
More passionate announcements of pleasure and impending orgasms.
"Jeez," I said, "your walls are thin. Do they do that a lot.?" I shrugged
into my coat and Henry shrugged into his.
"Only when they're awake," he replied.
"Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh God, I love you...."
"Do they know it's this easy to hear them?" I asked.
"I haven't gotten around to telling them yet." Henry took my arm and said,
"Come on, let's go before they hear you giggling."
On the way home in Henry's car I thought about his neighbors. Elaine and
Amy. Real live lesbians. They actually made love to each other. They had
a relationship. They shared things, talked about things, spent evenings
watching tv, cooked dinner together and cleaned the house together. They
slept in the same bed and woke up to the same alarm clock. And they were
"Are they pretty?" I asked as Henry drove up the main boulevard, heading out
"Who's that?" he replied.
"Your lesbian neighbors. You know, the ones who were sharing their private
moment with half the building?"
Henry smiled and said, "Yes, they're both very lovely women." He glanced over
at me. "Do they bother you?"
"Who, me? No, not at all."
"Really? Because it kind of sounds like they do."
"No, they don't, not at all. My best friend Miranda's a lesbian." I wondered
if I should tell him about her or not. After all, we were in a relationship
now, weren't we? Just like Elaine and Amy? Well, almost like them.
"Oh my God," I said, touching my forehead.
"What is it, Lizzie?"
"Henry. If we could hear them, then they could hear us. Oh my God."
Henry laughed again and said, "I don't think you should worry too much about
that, Lizzie. All of us are used to the thin walls."
"Okay, fine, but it's still embarrasssing," I said. "I mean, they could hear
everything I said."
"But you didn't say anything that they haven't said themselves." Henry turned
another corner, then slowed to a stop in front of my house. He put the car in
park and looked at me. "I mean, it's not like you shouted out any deep dark
secrets or anything."
What? Why did he say that? Did he think I had deep dark secrets? Did he know
about my deep dark secrets? Oh God, did I talk in my sleep?
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Henry asked, touching my shoulder.
"Nothing," I said. "I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow." I kissed him
quickly and got out of the car and ran up to the house, not looking back.
As soon as I got inside my cell rang and I pulled it out of my purse as I
went up the stairs. It was Miranda.
"Hey, Lizzie," she said. "Are you home from work yet?"
"Yeah, I just got home," I said. I got to the top of the stairs and went into
my room and shut the door behind me.
"Do you feel like doing something? I was thinking we could go to the mall, or
maybe the pizza parlor. I'm bored, I've been home all day and I need to get
out for a while."
"Sure, Miranda, that sound good," I said. The truth was it didn't sound good;
I was exhausted and my feet hurt and I needed to take a shower (and douche),
but I hadn't spent any time with Miranda since last weekend and I knew it was
important to see her. Our friendship hadn't been in the best shape lately; it
seemed to be kind of fading away, we were growing apart, and I knew that my
relationship with Henry had something to do with it. But there was more to it
than that; the fact that I was occasionally sleeping with Gordo didn't help
matters either, and even though I thought letting her make love to me that
one time last month would improve the situation, it seemed to have only made
God, my life needed an ambulance.
"You wanna come here first," Miranda asked, "or you wanna meet at the mall or
"Um....let's meet at the mall," I said. "That'll be quicker than going over
to pick you up."
"Kay. I'll be at the Bon. There's some new lipsticks I wanna check out. Eight
"I'll be there."
"Cool." Miranda paused, then cautiously said, "Can't wait to see you. I've
kinda missed you, you know?"
"I know. I've missed you too, Miranda."
She made a satisfied sound before she hung up. I sat on my bed and looked at
the clock on my nightstand. Just after seven, which meant I had almost an
hour to get to the mall. My shower would have to be a short one.
I went into the bathroom and turned on the water, stripped, and got in. I
lathered up real quick, rinsed, then shampooed and got out. I used a towel to
dry off, then wrapped another one around me and went back into my bedroom. I
got some clean clothes and started getting dressed, putting on my panties and
jeans, then shoes and socks. I'd just finished tying my shoes when my dad
came into my room. I was still topless, but by this time I was used to being
naked in front of my dad. It was unusual, though, that he would be coming to
me now; usually he waited until everyone was in bed.
"What is it?" I asked, thinking he might have had some other motive besides
his usual one.
"Just thought I'd come say hi," he said. "Your mother had to run to the
fabric store. She's out of material for her project." He put his hand on my
left breast. "I figure you and I have a little bit of time to play around."
I sighed and sat down on the end of my bed.
"Alright," I said, "but let's make this quick. I have to meet Miranda at the
"How is your little dyke friend doing?" he asked as he stepped closer to me.
"She's fine," I almost snapped. I didn't like him talking about my friend
that way, and I regretted mentioning her name.
I reached out and undid the snap on his jeans, pulled the zipper down,
and fished his cock out. It was only semihard and I started stroking it
automatically. I ignored his hand as it reached down and cupped my right
breast, focusing on what I had to do to get this over with. I put his
cock in my mouth and started sucking and stroking him, holding and
fondling his balls at the same time. While I worked I thought about
Henry, or about Miranda or Gordo, people I could stand, so I didn't have
to think too much about what I was doing. Eventually, Dad started moaning
and mumbling, and he put his hands on the back of my head, a signal that
he was about to come. I kept sucking him, and all at once he went off,
squirting come into my mouth. I waited until he was finished, then took
his cock out and swallowed.
"You're a good girl, Lizzie," Dad said. He bent over and kissed the top of
I didn't reply as I picked up my teeshirt and put it on, but just before he
went out the door I said, "Dad."
He turned and looked at me.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
I stood up and crossed my arms in front of my chest and said, "I want you to
stop doing this with me."
Dad feigned confusion and said, "What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. Forcing me to have sex with you. I want you
to stop it, to leave me alone. I don't like it and I don't want to do it."
Dad looked me up and down like he was sizing me up, and I felt nervous but
I wasn't going to back down. This whole thing had gone on way too long. It
should never have happened in the first place. He should have been a good
dad to me, treated me like his daughter instead of his whore. I was prepared
to say all of that if I had to. But he didn't argue with me, didn't try to
threaten or intimidate me, didn't do anything but take off his glasses, look
at me sadly, and say, "Alright, sweetheart."
Then he left my room andealiealized I was finally free. I was free.
And I discovered that freedom can be as surprising as it is wonderful. All
this time I'd been dreaming about moving out on my own, yet agonizing over
it when Henry brought the subject up. I believed that I would have to tell
Henry about my dad first, to let him know that I was damaged goods before
he got too involved with me, and part of me even believed that the incest
wouldn't stop just because I was out of the house. But as soon as I stood
up for myself and forced my dad to leave me alone, it seemed like everything
I'd believed turned out to be just the opposite of the reality. I discovered
that my dad would stop abusing me simply because I told him to, and that I
didn't have to move out if I didn't want to. But I also realized that I
really did want to, and I wanted to live with Henry because I loved him. And
I understood that it wasn't necessary to tell him about my dad first. I could
keep that secret, not because I was afraid not to, but because I wasn't
afraid. I wasn't afraid of anything anymore.
Miranda was waiting for me at the lipstick counter of the Bon, just like she
said she'd be. She saw me as I came in and gave me a big warm smile. I smiled
back, and when I got to the counter we hugged and she gave me a kiss on the
"I'm so glad you showed up, Lizzie," she said. "I've really missed you."
"I missed you too," I said. She was still holding onto me and I looked
around. "Find any good lipsticks?"
"No, nothing new, but you know what I did find? Come on, I'll show you."
Miranda took my hand and led me down several aisles until we got to Women's
Apparel. She pulled out a black silk blouse and draped it over her chest.
"Look at this," she said, "isn't it gorgeous?"
"Wow, Miranda," I said, "that's perfect for you. You look fabulous."
"I know," Miranda said with a laugh. "Unfortunately, I can't even afford to
try it on." She put it back on the rack and told me, "Don't look at the price
tag, I'd have to call 911."
"Oh, come on," I said, grabbing the blouse off the rack, "how expensive can
it be?" I looked at the price tag and saw that it was expensive, but I didn't
experience any cardiopulminary problems. I also knew that I had more than
enough money in my purse to buy it. One of the big perks of having a job. I
looked at Miranda and asked, "Do you really want it?"
Miranda's eyes got big and her mouth dropped open and she said, "Oh, Lizzie,
no, you can't...."
I smiled and said, "I can and I will. The least I can do for my best friend
in the whole world."
Miranda looked like she was about to cry. She thanked me and gave me a hug,
then took the blouse and held it up in front of her again. I led her over to
the sales girl and paid for the blouse in cash, then we went out into the
mall to look for a place to sit and talk. Miranda thanked me and told me she
loved me twice before we managed to find an empty bench in front of a
"Miranda," I said, "I kinda have something I wanna talk to you about."
"Sure, Lizzie, what is it?" Miranda asked, either not noticing or completely
ignoring the tortured look on my face.
"It's about Henry," I said. Her smile faded a little bit. "I'm in love with
him, and I think I'm going to move in with him."
Miranda's smile disappeared altogether now, replaced by an unbearably sad
frown. I tried to think of something that would lessen the blow, but all I
could come up with was, "I'm obviously going to have to break things off
with Gordo. Not our friendship, but, you know, the sleeping with him thing."
My good news had no effect. Miranda looked more sad then ever.
"Miranda," I said, touching her arm. She pulled it away and looked in the
other direction and I suddenly felt very mad. "Come on, Miranda, you're not
"So what?" Miranda replied, her voice wavering. "Maybe I don't feel like
being fair right now."
"But you're my best friend. And best friends are supposed to be glad for you
when you tell them you've found true love, not jealous and hurt. I know how
you feel about me, but it's not my fault that I can't feel the same way."
Miranda stood up and faced me.
"Then what's this all about?" she asked, holding up the bag with her new
blouse inside. "Is this just to buy me off? To keep me satisfied while you
go around acting like a total slut?"
I couldn't help it. I was so shocked by what she said that I just reacted,
slapping her face. That shocked me even more, and I opened my mouth to
apologize, but I didn't get the chance. Miranda, touching the place where
I'd slapped her, shouted, "You bitch!" and threw the bag at me. It hit me
in the chest and fell to the floor. I glanced down at it, and when I looked
back up my best friend was storming off toward the exit. I called after her
but she ignored me. I called her name louder, with tears in my voice, but
she wouldn't stop leaving, and I couldn't do anything but watch her go.
I hadn't intended to tell Gordo what had happened; I'd come to his house to
do what I'd told Miranda I was going to do, break off the sexual part of our
relationship, but the first thing out of my mouth once we were alone in his
room (his parents were out for the evening) was the scene at the mall, and
then I'd burst into tears. And poor Gordo, all he could do was sit there and
watch me. I loved him with all my heart, he was my other best friend, but he
was pretty much useless when I was crying, especially when Miranda and I were
I must have cried for about ten minutes before the waterfall let up enough
for Gordo to feel it was safe to say anything.
"I'm really sorry, Lizzie," he said. We were sitting facing each other on his
bed "I hope you and Miranda can patch things up soon. If you want me to talk
to her, I can do that. Except I don't know what I'd say to her, other than to
tell her to find some other girl to fall in love with."
It was ironic, really, because that was exactly the same advice I was
planning to give him.
"It's okay, Gordo," I told him, sniffling. "I think Miranda and I just need
time apart or something. I feel so awful, though, like I led her on. I
shouldn't have bought that stupid blouse."
"Naw, you were just buying her something cause you care about her. Miranda
just chose to make it mean something else, that's all. And you're probably
right, if you just let her cool off, she'll probably see that. You gotta
remember, she loves you, so even though she's mad at you right now, she'll
eventually wanna give you the benifit of the doubt."
Sometimes my little Gordy was so wise. For a moment I actually considered not
breaking him off. But I had to, because even though we'd set up this fuck
buddy thing, Henry was my official boyfriend now and I couldn't be unfaithful
"Gordo," I said, "I need to talk to you about something else."
"Sure, Lizzie, what is it?" he said, although he looked unsure.
"Well," I started, "you see, I'm kind of seeing this guy. You know about
Henry, my boss."
"Yeah," Gordo said, making his disappointment obvious, although it was also
obvious that he wasn't heartbroken or thinking I was a slut.
"Well, things have sort of changed. I mean, Henry and I have become something
like a couple." I sighed, frustrated with myself for not just getting to the
point. "The truth is, I think I'm in love with him. And, well, I kind of
wanna be faithful to him, you know?"
Gordo nodded, as if he had just realized something he should have known all
"You told Miranda that, didn't you?" he said. "That's why she was so upset.
Or at least one of the reasons."
"Yeah," I admitted. I wiped the remnants of tears from my face. "I dunno,
Gordo. I just feel like I've messed everything up, with Miranda, and now
with you. And all I wanted to be was happy. Henry makes me happy, but I
can't enjoy it because I'm so upset about you two guys. You guys are my
best friends and....I dunno.... I feel like I've let you both down. I'm a
Gordo surprised me by touching my hand.
"No you're not," he said, looking into my eyes. "You're a great friend,
Lizzie. It's me and Miranda, we both put in a bad position. Don't forget, we
were the ones that fell in love with you. You just tried to, you know, keep
"Well....yeah," I said.
"So don't worry about it." He squeezed my hand. "I understand. I admit,
I'm disappointed, but there are no hard feelings. And I'm sure if you give
Miranda some time, she'll come to see it the same way. She'll be grateful
that you're still her friend, like I am." I couldn't believe it. He was
being so kind, so gracious. But then, Gordo had always been that way.
"Thank you, Gordo," I said.
I hugged him and kissed his cheek, and he kissed mine, then spoke softly in
my ear, "I knew I had it too good, an. A. A great girl like you."
I let him go and got up from the bed.
"I'm sure you'll find somebody," I said, "and she'll be able to love you
back. When that happens you'll forget all about me."
"Well, I might find somebody, Lizzie, but I'll never forget about you."
"Thanks, Gordo," I said, "for everything."
We said goodbye to each other and I started for his door, but stopped when
he called my name. I turned around and looked at him.
"This thing with Miranda," he said. "You know, her being gay and everything?
Do you think that's maybe, like, just a temporary thing?"
I laughed a little and said, "No, sweetie, I don't think so. I think she's
pretty much gay for the duration."
He snapped his fingers and said, "Rats, foiled again."
This time we both laughed, then said goodbye again and I left his house. I
walked home in the cold night, alone and filled with feelings that seemed to
be going in opposite directions. I was happy but I was sad too, and a little
scared, about Miranda, about Henry, about my dad. But at the same time I
wasn't scared, because I knew that somehow it would all work out eventually.
I just had to trust this new freedom of mine, and remember that while freedom
took courage, the first part of freedom wasn't courage but yearning.