Future of Porn

College graduation day finally arrived. When they called out “Mindy Sparks”, I proudly walked across the stage and received my diploma. Underneath my gown, I wore a light summer dress and white panties. I wasn’t wearing a bra, but I was far from naked like some of my sorority sisters.

Audrie was one of the boldest exhibitionists in the sorority house. It was quite obvious that she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on under her robe. As she pranced up to the stage, her big boobs bounced freely under her gown. The stage lights illuminated Audrie’s dark bush beneath her gold satin robe, which was acknowledged by applause and catcalls from the guys in the audience.

When Audrie reached center stage, her face became red with embarrassment. It looked as if Audrie suddenly realized how sheer her graduation robe really was. Backlighting on the stage created a nude silhouette of Audrie’s perfect body, which was viewable by everyone in attendance. This incited a collective gasp along with looks of disgust from many of the parents and grandmothers that turned out for the event. Cameras flashed throughout the arena as the barely dressed coed accepted her diploma and hurried back to her seat. I’ll bet some of the fathers took more pictures of Audrie than they took of their own son or daughter.

Even though I acted like a good girl on graduation day, that doesn’t mean I was an angel during finals week. I tried to be an angel, but once again a simple panty flash turned into a big mishap rendering me helplessly naked in front of a group of strangers.

The evening started out innocently enough. I went to a bar with my boyfriend, Vince, and I was perched on a high bar stool. Vince was playing darts with his friend, Duke, so I was left sitting alone at the bar, drinking a beer and reading my Business Studies book preparing for my last exam. I majored in Business Education with a Teaching Degree, which gives me the opportunity to teach business as well as work in an office setting.

Sitting at a table below me was a girl who looked to be in her twenties, along with two younger boys. The boys couldn’t have been more than eighteen, but the bar is pretty lenient about serving minors during finals week. I was getting bored, so I thought I’d have a little fun and put on a show for them. I had a large glass of beer in front of me, but the peanuts were in a bowl a little out of my reach. I’m just slightly over five feet tall, so I had to stand on the foot rail of my bar stool and lean forward to grab a nut. This caused the hem of my short sundress to ride up in back, exposing my pale pink panties to the group below me.

I never looked down at the boys, but from the corner of my eye I could see that they were thrilled by the vision in front of them. I could feel their hungry eyes feasting on my panty clad backside as I slowly reached for the peanut. Everyone was getting quite an eyeful because my panties were practically see-through and only came halfway up my butt. I bought the tiny underpants so that when I wear low-cut jeans, my panties wouldn’t show above the waistline. Of course, this meant that half of my butt-crack was hanging out above the thin elastic waistband and the other half was plainly visible through the very thin fabric of my little undies.

When I finally sat down, I should have stopped, but once again I let my emotions get the best of me. That’s how I always get myself into trouble. Even though I was wearing a very short and skimpy dress, I thought, “What harm could come from showing off my panties to a few strangers?”

I tried to concentrate on my text book, but I couldn’t resist the urge to let my panties pop out in public again. As I slowly leaned forward, I noticed that there was a mirror behind the bar. I was able to see the reflection of the girl and the two boys sitting with her. The girl was very cute with brown hair and a dazzling smile. The sparkle in her eyes was mesmerizing as she stared at me from behind. I hadn’t been interested in a girl since I met Vince, but my boyfriend’s lack of attention was forcing me to fulfill my needs elsewhere. After selecting a peanut, I sat back down on the stool, but my curiosity was overwhelming and I needed to find out if this beautiful girl had any interest in me.

The boys had shy nervous expressions on their faces as if they couldn’t believe what they’d just witnessed. The girl on the other hand wore a confident smile on her face. She was definitely smiling at me, but I couldn’t tell if she liked me or if she just enjoyed watching me tease the young boys.

I didn’t want any more peanuts, but the attention I was receiving from the girl inspired me to reach for another one. As I leaned across the bar, the bartender came over and asked if I needed anything. I was wearing a dangerously short white button-down dress without a bra, and the top two buttons were open. Since I’m such a diminutive and petite girl, I was forced to lean over pretty far to reach the nuts.

I might be small, but my medium-sized breasts are full and firm. As I bent forward, my dress gapped in front giving the bartender a birds-eye view of my round rosy nipples. I took my time searching for the perfect nut as the bartender positioned himself so that he had an unobstructed view of my nearly naked breasts. With my barely covered butt on display for the people behind me and my titties exposed to the bartender in front of me, I began to feel aroused. My nipples started to harden and I began to experience that all too familiar sensation of wetness between my legs.

After giving the bartender a nice long look at my puffy pink nipples, I told him that I had everything I needed and started to sit back down on the stool. Then the funniest thing happened. While slowly sliding down into my seat, the hem of my short dress got snagged on the top of the chair behind me. I pretended not to notice and continued to sit down, but I could feel that my dress was flipped up in back. My smooth tan flesh was exposed all the way up to the small of my back, revealing my little pink underpants to the young boys behind me. It sent chills up my spine because I knew that my tiny panties only concealed half of my butt-crack, but I did nothing to correct the situation.

From the reflection in the mirror, I could tell that the girl was looking at me. She probably thought that I was completely unaware of my predicament. The beautiful girl giggled as she pointed out my quandary to the boys at her table. As the bartender brought me another large beer, I continued to study while acting as though I was oblivious to the awkward circumstances.

The young boys were free to check out my nearly naked butt until my jerk of a boyfriend and his equally annoying friend showed up. My boyfriend quietly came up behind me, tugged on the waistband of my underpants and dropped an ice cube down the crack of my ass. He startled me so I quickly turned around, but he didn’t pull his finger out of my skimpy undies and I felt the thin elastic waistband of my tiny panties snap.

I sternly said, “You’re so immature” as I leaned forward on the bar stool.

I promptly lifted the back of my skirt and reached down into my underwear to fish out the cold ice cube, probably exposing most of my bare ass to the boys at the table behind me in the process. The melting ice cube left a wet spot on my panties, which only made the see-through material even more transparent. I threw the ice cube on the floor and then I examined my damaged undies. My stupid boyfriend managed to break the elastic on the thin waistband near my right hip. This is the moment when I should have collected my belongings and left the bar, but I just couldn’t resist the idea of teasing the shy young boys just a little more.

I stood up and turned my back to Duke, which forced me to face the group that had been watching me all night. In order to show Vince what he’d done to my underwear, I had to lift up my short sun dress. I may have over-exaggerated the need to raise my dress because I lifted the hem higher than my belly button. With my dress up so high, I was certain that the group could see my neatly trimmed auburn bush, which was barely hidden by my translucent panties.

I showed my boyfriend the broken elastic and said, “Thanks for ruining my underwear! I’ll bet they’re gonna fall right off.”

The eyes of the young boys lit up when they heard that statement. The girl had a big smile on her face, too. She knew that I was kicking the boys’ hormones into overdrive, and she seemed to like watching me torture them as they squirmed in their seats. The girl also gave me the impression that she liked watching me for her own personal pleasure, as she gave me a wink and licked her luscious wet lips.

With the young boys staring right at me, I wiggling my hips a little and then told Vince, “Look at my panties. You really ripped them. Now what am I going to do? See how they slide down my thighs when I move! I don’t think they’re gonna stay on much longer.”

Duke yelled, “You’re right, they won’t!”

Then Duke reached under my short dress and pulled my underpants all the way down to the floor. I stepped out of my torn undies and without thinking, I bent over to pick them up. I no longer had any panties on, so when I bent over, my bare butt cheeks were pointed right at the girl and young boys seated behind me.

Reality suddenly set in and I remembered that I was completely naked under my dress. I was mortified when I looked back and saw that the girl and her young friends had an unobstructed view of my bare ass. With my knees straight and my legs slightly spread apart, I’ll bet they could even see my tender pussy lips from behind.

I can be pretty bold when I’m wearing panties, but I’m a lot more self-conscious when I’m totally nude. Instead of directing my attention at the people behind me, I should have focused on securing my panties because Duke quickly grabbed my little undies off the floor before I had a chance to pick them up.

Duke started twirling my panties on his finger so I tried to snatch them away, but he was too quick far me and tossed them to my boyfriend. Vince held my undies high in the air, but I was determined to retrieve them. He’s six-foot-four, which is over thirteen inches taller than me, so I was forced to jump for them.

Jumping up in a short dress with no underwear on underneath was a big mistake. When I jumped into the air, my short dress flew up exposing my bare butt and hairy triangle to everyone around me. Then my dress acted like a parachute as it slowly floated down, giving the people around me an extended peek at my nakedness.

With Vince holding my panties up high, I couldn’t secure my dress and raise my arms at the same time. Therefore, I was forced to leave my extremely short sundress unrestrained as I leaped into the air. The young boys had front row seats for the spectacle and the girl sitting with them found the reaction on their faces to be priceless. I knew that the boys were getting glimpses of my ass and pussy, but I continued to act as if I was unaware of my public exposure because the cute brunette seemed to be enjoying it. She really liked seeing that I was a helpless innocent victim baring my butt and bush to a bar full of strangers. Watching me get humiliated in public looked like it was turning her on.

Finally, my boyfriend threw my panties and they landed on the bar. Duke tried to grab them, but I slapped his hand away. Unfortunately, his hand knocked over my freshly poured large glass of beer, which spilled onto the bar and ruined my text book. The beer also splashed off the bar and drenched the top of my dress. Now my nipples were even easier to see as the thin white cotton material became instantly transparent.

With everyone looking at my nearly naked breasts, I felt extremely vulnerable and held the text book in front of me. My boyfriend gave his friend a high-five as they started laughing. Duke even tried to take my book away and my drunken boyfriend made no attempt to come to my defense.

My eyes began to well up with tears as I declared, “Vince, you’ve ignored me all afternoon and when you finally showed up, you humiliated me in front of a bar full of strangers!”

He said, “Oh come on. We’re just having a little fun.”

I said, “Well the fun’s over. I’m leaving and I never want to see you again!”

He said, “Why don’t you get over yourself” as I grabbed my billfold and headed for the door with my text book clutched against my chest.

Vince tried to follow me, but Duke grabbed his arm and said, “Let her go. You don’t need her.”

I heard my boyfriend call out, “You’re right. I don’t have to put up with this crap” as I left the bar and I walked out into the night.

I began to head towards the campus when I sensed someone coming up behind me. Thinking that it was Vince, I yelled for him to go away, but it turned out to be the beautiful girl that was seated at the table behind me. She put her arm around me and gently brushed away the tears from my cheeks. Following the girl was the two young boys that had been sitting with her. I buried my head in the girl’s bosoms, trying to hide my blushing face.

Everyone was quite for a moment, then I broke the silence and meekly said, “I’m so embarrassed. I was trying mind my own business and study for my final exam, but my jerk of a boyfriend decided it would be fun to expose me to his friend and everyone else in the bar. Then a beer spilled and ruined my book. I just hope no one saw my underwear.”

The girl giggled and said, “Oh we saw a lot more than that!”

The boys snickered, and then she continued, “But you handled yourself very well. You don’t need him. By the way, my name is Jennifer. I’m a grad student in the school of business and behind you are Andy and Brad. They’re a couple of freshmen that I’m trying to tutor so that they can pass their exams.”

I introduced myself and looked back to say hello to the boys, but they were too nervous to say hello back to me. Then Jennifer and I turned our heads and gave each other endearing smiles. She continued to keep her arm around my shoulders, but she lifted my text book from in front of me and examined it.

Jennifer said, “Your book is ruined” and then she tossed it into a nearby trash can.

I screeched, “Jennifer, you can see right through my dress. I was using that book to hide my boobs.”

Jennifer replied, “I’m sorry. Hey, it’s only eight o’clock. The Business School Office is still open. I’ll bet I can find you another one. Who’s your teacher?”

I replied, “Professor Wrissley.”

She said, “I think he’s still there. Let’s stop by and find out.”

I said, “But look at me. I’m practically naked!”

With a devious smile she said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Her smile raised a red flag about her intentions for me. However, I was a little drunk and had just broken up with my boyfriend, so I continued walking with her because I couldn’t resist her sweet caring personality. As we headed towards the School of Business Building, the young boys followed close behind. They watched intensely as an occasional breeze lifted my short dress up exposing my bare butt cheeks to them.

I tried to hold my dress down, but Jennifer pushed my hand away saying, “You don’t have to guard your dress. You’re among friends. Besides, those panties you were wearing barely covered your cute little behind anyway.”

I explained, “Those panties were for my low-rise jeans so that they wouldn’t hang out above the waistline when I bent over.”

Jennifer said with a little laugh, “I solved that problem by not wearing any panties. See?”

I looked at Jennifer’s butt and noticed a little bit of her butt-crack was showing above her short white shorts.

She smiled and said, “I like showing off my butt. I work out hard to look like this, so I’m not afraid to show it off. Besides, it gets the little boys’ attention while I’m babysitting…err, I mean tutoring. It seems to drive the boys wild.”

I said, “I’ll bet it does. It’s driving me wild right now” and she responded with a hug and a smile.

Jennifer has model good looks. She’s tall and thin with long dark hair and a very pretty face. Her breasts aren’t much bigger than mine, but they look round and perky. Jennifer’s golden tanned skin was a sharp contrast to her peach tank top and flimsy white bra. She looked delicious and I wanted to eat her up.

We finally reached the Business Building and we had to climb a steep flight of stairs to get to the front door. Of course the boys followed behind, but they took their time so that they were several steps below Jennifer and me. It was obvious that they wanted to look up my dress, but neither Jennifer nor I made an issue of it. Once we were inside, Jennifer told the boys to get Professor Wrissley and then she led me into the kitchen area.

Jennifer said, “I think we need to wash off this beer. You smell like a brewery.”

I watched nervously as Jennifer lathered up her hands, and then started caressing the front of my dress until it was all sudsy. She kept moistening her hands under the warm water and then rubbing them up and down the front of me. Jennifer looked me in the eyes and smiled as she gently squeezed my breasts through the wet fabric. The sensation of her gentle hands against my nipples was getting me excited, but then Professor Wrissley suddenly entered the room. Jennifer stood up and purposely stepped aside, leaving me standing there unprotected in my soaked white sundress.

Jennifer said, “Mindy’s text book got ruined tonight. I was wondering if you had another one so she can study for your exam?”

Professor Wrissley observed my practically non-existent dress, chuckled and replied, “I have the exam on my desk. Maybe you should just take it now and get it over with.”

Jennifer said, “That’d be great!”

Then Jennifer gave me a sinful grin and declared, “Professor Wrissley, I guess you’ll need to sit and watch Mindy the whole time to make sure she doesn’t cheat.”

I squealed, “Jennifer! You know I’m practically naked” as I made a vein attempt to fold my arms across my chest.

A look of panic crossed my face as Professor Wrissley examined my sheer white dress. The dress was now sticking to me like a second skin because it was saturated with water, so Professor Wrissley had plenty to look at.

Acting like a true gentleman, he smiled and said, “No, Jennifer, I think I’ll let you keep an eye on her. I’ll be in the lounge. Let me know when you’re finished.”

When Professor Wrissley left the room, Jennifer began unbuttoning my dress so I squeaked, “What are you doing?”

She said, “I can’t get the soap out. I’m going to have to rinse your dress in the sink.”

After unbuttoning my dress, she quickly slipped it off my shoulders and in an instant I was naked in the middle of the Business School Building. As I stood there totally nude, Jennifer stuffed my dress into the sink and began running warm water over it.

I asked, “Can’t we go into the women’s restroom and do this?”

She replied, “Well, we’ve already started here, so we might as well finish up here.”

I said, “But now I’m completely naked and anyone can walk into this room at any time!”

Jennifer said, “Would you quit worrying! It’s late. There’s hardly anybody here.”

Then she turned to me and said, “I still need to get the soap off of you” and began running her slippery fingers up and down the front of my naked body.

Jennifer softly tickled my belly button and then proceeded to drag her ruby red fingernails up the front of me until she reached my taunt nipples. She used her fingertips to tease my super sensitive nipples and then she softly massaged my entire breasts. Her magic fingers felt magnificent and I was beginning to relax and enjoy the phenomenon that she was creating.

Jennifer looked down and sweetly said, “Aw, it looks like you’ve got a little soap on your girl fur. I’d better take care of that.”

Her pace was frustrating, but I knew that in her game there was no active role permitted for me. I only had two more stations left, and my desire to see the denouement was like an ache that I felt in the root of my painfully erect cock. As if drawn out by her magnetic nature, a bead of pre-cum formed at the tip of my glans. Finally, the knot of her skirt came undone, and the flap closest to me dropped down in between us.

Station number four! The student opposite us stood up to get off of the train, saw us, and dropped her book with a gasp. I made no effort to cover myself, but invited her to drink in the rude sight of my distended organ, glistening in the unflattering light. My elegant artiste was likewise unmoved by the astonishment in the young face. The poor girl, flustered, hurriedly bent down to pick up her book and barely managed to exit before the doors closed.

I returned my attention to the main attraction. As the train picked up speed en route to my destination, she, perhaps sensing the waning of our time together, quickly and facilely twitched the flap covering her lap. As I had suspected, the minx wore no undergarments. She spread her thighs apart slightly, and I could see her sex. Her mons veneris was almost entirely shaven, with but a small tuft of hair at the top of her lips. The olive color of her skin lent an exotic cast to the display, the labia engorged and spread out in her exquisitely controlled passion, the inner pink of the organ in stark contrast, highlighted by the evident moisture emanating from within.

And thus we sat next to each other, our lack of restraint in exhibiting ourselves in delicious tension with our restraint in not progressing to what might seem a logical conclusion. And yet, what could be more logical than this mutuality as an end in itself? Restraint is an essential part of exhibitionism: one does not wish to force intercourse on the observer; rather one wishes to communicate sexuality explicitly. If such a display leads to a consenting and satisfying release, that is a bonus beyond the original motivation.

As we approached Penn Station, I stood up, and gently (very gently!) covered myself once more. My penis, still raging in erection, made an unseemly protrusion in my running shorts, so I tucked the head under the waistband, and allowed my T-shirt to fall over it. As I turned to the door, I noticed that the actress was demurely clad once more, with no evidence of the trip’s debauchery. Neither of us acknowledged the other as I stepped off of the train to meet my daughter.

****

I have since had cause to wonder if the events of the following week would have come to pass had I not been in such a heightened state of sexual awareness as I walked through the underground passages of Penn Station. Every human being walking through those halls seemed to emanate erotic potential, an almost sensible aura of warmth arising from each. Without release, I was floating in a Tantric spell, the energy of my aclimacteric condition propelling me along. I felt every contact, every friction as a jolt channeling into my entrapped member.

In a few minutes, I found myself at the terminal where June’s train was due to arrive. I had to get a hold of myself. My erection still felt as massive as a baseball bat in my shorts, and the bulge it created was fairly noticeable. I sat down on a bench and closed my eyes, performing some deep-breathing exercises. In a short time, my erection had subsided, but I still felt sexually charged. Then I heard a familiar voice calling.

I turned, and there she was. Could this creature be my daughter? In the intervening two years since I had seen her last, she had developed into a ravishing being. In my heightened state, I could not help but evaluate her sexually: she was still tall, but now she had settled into her body and wore it naturally. Her honey-blond hair (still highlighted) was drawn back in a simple ponytail with a scrunchy. She wore a simple yellow sundress, halter-style with a tie around her neck. Her bust filled out the top more than admirably, the cotton material softly outlining the rounded hillocks gently swaying underneath. The style of dress combined with the freedom of movement advertised the lack of a bra. In addition, she had a purse with a long thin strap slung over her shoulder, with the strap crossing her front between those outstanding breasts, thus forcing the cloth of the dress to conform more closely to the curves they covered. The dress extended below her hips to about mid-thigh, with a slight flare. From there to the ground, her slim but muscular legs seemed to last forever, until finally they gracefully poured into a simple pair of sandals.

Every detail burned itself into my mind: with a photographer’s discrimination, I admired the flat abdomen, the curve of the hip, the long lines of the arms, one raised in greeting, the other pulling her valise behind her, the gentle golden hue of her skin. The clean unlined features of her face were so familiar: the mischievous glint in her remarkable eyes, the upturned nose, all as I remembered from the little girl I had raised. And yet, now they were transformed into a womanly whole by a mysterious element, a secret knowledge that she had not possessed when I last knew her. I felt a stir in my groin, but with a wrench, suppressed it.

All of these observations whirled through my brain in a matter of seconds, before I jumped up and embraced my daughter. I nearly melted at the onslaught of sensation brought on by that embrace: the warmth of her skin felt through two thin layers of cotton, the fruity scent arising from her hair, the sound of her voice. All brought on memories of the years we had shared together, at once pleasurable and saddening. At the same time, I was all too aware of the soft feeling of her breasts crushed against my chest, my arms wrapped around her slim waist. I felt tears in my eyes and a simultaneous rush of blood to my penis.

To hide my incipient arousal, I held June at arms’ length, and said, “Let me get a look at you.” She laughed, a girlish tinkle, and spun around daintily, ending with a mock curtsey.

“Do you like?” She asked, coyly. I chose to take her statement at face value, and laughed back at her coquettish display. I took her arm, and we started walking out of the station. She chattered away, gaily, about this and that. I just drank in her presence, punch-drunk from the fact of her, at last to have her with me again.

“What do you want to do this week?” I asked. “Anything in particular for your birthday?”

“Well,” she said, with a moue of disgust, “Mom wasn’t too happy with my going away for my birthday, but she did give me a bunch of money to have a good time here in the city, so that’s what I’m planning. I’m going shopping, we can go out for some good food, but otherwise, I just want to spend time with you, Dad.”

I felt the usual frustrated rage at the mention of her mother, but hid it. “OK, honey,” I replied, carelessly, “I’m yours for the whole week, except tomorrow morning, when I have to talk with a prospective client. Let’s go back to my place and get you settled, and then we can decide what to do with the rest of the day.”

She nodded her acquiescence, and we hailed a cab to go back uptown. I put her valise in the back, surreptitiously watching her as she got into the back seat. She moved with such effortless grace, never appearing awkward, completely in tune with big city sophistication. Truly, although only just about to turn 18, she came across as a very self-composed older woman. I sat down next to her and gave the cabby our destination. I tried manfully not to glance at her smooth, tan legs arrayed so neatly on the tough vinyl seat of the cab.

When we got back to my apartment, the air conditioning hit us like a palpable release. The relief from the overwhelming heat was enough to cause both of us to sit down, I in one of the chairs, and June on the edge of her bed. She removed the purse from over her shoulder and lay back on the bed. The movement caused the hem of her dress to sneak up her thighs, exposing almost the entire length of her legs, until it slyly stopped a scant three or four inches below where her legs met. With her eyes closed, she heaved a contented sigh at the pleasure of the cool air. Even on her back, her breasts pushed proudly at the yellow cotton, and now I could see her nipples, erect from the sudden temperature transition, making their presence known through the thin dress.

I was sitting, slumped in my chair, desperately trying not to appreciate the display of female physicality in front of me. I felt, maybe for the first time in my life, overly exposed myself. I was all too aware of my own state of undress, the small pair of shorts being all that contained my fatherly modesty. I had never had cause to worry about a physical reaction to my daughter’s femininity: I had scarcely seen her during her adolescence. In addition, as a family we had never been worried about casual nudity around the house, and I know that June had seen me unclothed even when she was eleven. Yet I had never reacted to her, had never exposed myself to her in a sexual manner, had never even felt the urge to do so. Now, I was in danger of revealing to her that I found her physical form arousing, and the last thing I wanted to do today, the first time I had seen her in years, was to disgust her, send her away. And even so, I found it impossible to tear my eyes away.

And then she stretched, her arms over her head, her back arching. The combination of movements caused her breasts to push even higher. Worse, the hem of her dress crept upwards again, daring me to glance between her legs. I stared, fascinated, hypnotized. The moment seemed to stretch out for an eternity. Did I catch a glimpse of yellow, a patch of soft material at the junction of her thighs? Or did I imagine it? In either case, my cock swelled somewhat, pushing in its own insistent fashion against my shorts. So I did what any father would do in the circumstances. I closed my eyes.

By the rustle of her movement, I could tell she sat up on the bed. I hoped my charade worked, and opened my eyes to see her smiling at me with a twinkle in her eye. All of a sudden, a strange surmise overcame me: could she have meant to expose herself to me? If so, she would only be a chip off the old log, wouldn’t she? And the off-hand manner in which she pulled it off, if that’s what she intended, implied a masterful hand that could only come with long experience. And yet, due to the ease of the supposed maneuver, I could not be sure. I would have to keep an eye on her, as it were. And I found myself thinking, “two can play at that game.”

She pushed herself up off the bed and strolled into the kitchen. I followed her with my gaze, admiring the structure and strength of her shoulders, the casually sinuous lines of her back, the skin as golden as her limbs. And, I noted, my artist’s eye once again serving me well, lacking any tan lines to mar the uniform coloration. Of course, many girls undo their bikini tops to achieve better tans, without having to sunbathe nude. This was no proof of exhibitionist tendencies. I could not stop my eye from gently wandering down to examine her butt, which, even hidden behind the soft folds of the dress, promised the same firm muscularity combined with feminine curvature displayed elsewhere on her divine form.

Returning with a glass of ice water for herself and another for me, she said, “Well, Dad, what shall we do today?”

“It’s far too hot to do anything outside, or at least for very long,” I replied. “I’d like to get over to the Metropolitan: they have a new exhibition of early photography I’ve been aching to see.”

“Sure, Dad, that sounds like fun! Let’s go.”

The rest of the day passed in relative normality. I thoroughly enjoyed myself at the museum, and recovered a modicum of my fatherly role in pontificating on the subtleties of Stieglitz and Man Ray. Remarkably, June seemed just as interested, firing back queries that denoted a subtlety of thought unusual in a girl her age. We both enjoyed a glorious series of photographs by Eugene Cuvelier, from the 1860s, of the forests near his home in Fontainebleu.

After lunch, we managed to get to the Gauguin exhibition. June commented on the natural beauty exhibited by the native women in his paintings. Unfettered by social mores, they were able to allow their bodies to remain unconstrained, and thus more in tune with their natural surroundings. My earlier thoughts returned to me, and I couldn’t help but notice that once again, her nipples poked through her dress, twin declarations of what? Passion? Or simple reaction to the air-conditioning?

The afternoon air was cooler than it had been, so we elected to stroll through the Park to get back to my apartment on the West Side. A slight breeze had picked up, ruffling June’s hair gently. We ambled aimlessly, allowing the unexpected curvature of the paths to lead us where they would. I finally got up the courage to ask June about her mother.

“Ugh. What can I say? She is as difficult as ever. Frank [her stepfather] continually argues with her. And her affairs have become more blatant than ever.” At this I gasped slightly.

“Oh, come on, Dad,” she said with a little exasperation. “You can’t think I’m that blind. I knew how she carried on when I was eight years old, for crying out loud. Ever since then, I have no respect for her at all. How could she treat you like that?”

I knew I should make an effort to defend Alice, but really, I had no wherewithal to attempt to do so. We walked side-by-side in silence for a few minutes. I felt that June had other things she wanted to say, but she was not forthcoming. All of a sudden, she ran onto the grass and twirled in a girlish pirouette.

“Oh, if only we could be like Gauguin’s women! Think, to be free of the prudery of ‘civilization’, allowed to do what we truly desire!” Her eyes shined, her hands toyed with the hem of her dress. I felt that, with but slight signal from me, she would have lifted the garment straight up. But I lacked the bravery to encourage her. Yet. I had a sense where things were going, but I needed surety before taking the risk she seemed to be daring me to take. I looked away, and in a moment, she was back at my side. We walked on, as if nothing had happened.

****

We made dinner together that evening, maneuvering around each other in the small kitchen, giggling at our awkward positions. At one point, I reached over her to get some oregano while she was stirring the pasta. My hip pushed up against her butt as I stretched forward. The firm tautness of her muscles imprinted itself on my side. It seemed as if she pushed slightly into me as if attempting to prolong the contact. I placed my hand on her shoulder to steady myself, and allowed myself to enjoy the feeling. For a quick moment, she was not my daughter; she was a woman expressing the pleasure of intimate contact with a man she loved. Then, I broke away, feeling at once aroused and ashamed of my behavior. And then, she turned her head over her shoulder, and flashed me a smile of pure happiness. Whatever her intention had been, the smile explained to me that she was not displeased with the moment.

Over dinner, I felt as relaxed and comfortable as I had with any person in my whole life. We talked about her upcoming time in college, what she wanted to study. We discussed my company, my professional and artistic aspirations. The delicious pasta and sauce, salad and wine all contributed to an informality and intimacy I had missed for too many years. As I gazed at my beautiful daughter, tears sprang to my eyes.

“What’s the matter, Dad?”

“Oh, darling. I’ve missed you so terribly. It’s been far too long, and I never want it to be that long again.”

“Me, too,” she replied seriously, an earnest set to her eyes. “Mom can’t keep me from you any more, you know. I’m all grown up now.”

And how, I thought to myself. She reached her hand across the table to me, and I took it in mine. The gentle touch communicated by her fingers was both reassuring and soothing. On an impulse, I brought her hand to my lips, and softly kissed the back of her fingers.

“Mademoiselle, I believe the time has come to retire,” I said playfully. Her eyes widened for a second, but she quickly recovered herself.

“Certainly, Monsieur,” she replied, coyly casting her eyes down. “Would you care to use the facilities first?” I laughed at her manner, and stood up, bowing.

“No, no, no. After you, I insist.” Her eyes positively gleaming, she swept before me regally into the bathroom, and winked at me before closing the door. Chortling, I cleared the dishes and cleaned up from supper. Then, I went to my room to change into my nightclothes: a pair of maroon silk boxers. In a few minutes, she emerged from the bathroom, wearing a long T-shirt that covered her from shoulder to below her butt by a few inches, her long legs free. The T-shirt seemed a little old, worn a bit in a few areas, over the shoulders, at the waist. I stepped into the bathroom, performed my ablutions before coming back out.

When I came out, I saw my daughter bent forward over the bed, folding her dress from the day. The T-shirt had lifted up over her butt. Her asscheeks, golden like her legs, were revealed, intersected by a white line of material, all I could see of a silk thong. Between her legs, the material pouched out over her sex, thoughtlessly outlining its contours more than disguising them. I could even make out the line of her lips down the center.

I cleared my throat. She looked over her shoulder and saw where I was looking. “Oops,” she giggled, and straightened up, smoothing the shirt back over the fronts of her thighs as she turned around. Her nipples, once again, shone through. I felt like I was getting to know them very well. She danced over to me, and threw her arms around my bare shoulders. She gave me a hug, molding her body to mine delightfully. I felt every curve and valley of her breasts against my chest. I felt her taut stomach against my lower abdomen and groin. I felt my dick, thickening with desire, push against her leg. I even felt warmth from her groin against my leg.

“Night, night, Daddy!” She laughed and twirled away from me, leaving me like a statue, momentarily frozen by the apparent brazen nature of her behavior. And then, a wicked smile played across my own lips as I went into my bedroom and closed the door behind me, thinking:

“Payback can be such a bitch!”

I rolled my eyes at her. Esme, meanwhile, had pulled a new pair of panties and a longer skirt from a drawer in her desk, and was busy making herself presentable again.

“OK, you two. Run along. I’ve got to get back to work here before Ms. Finzi finds out how much ‘personal time’ I’m taking.”

“See you tonight, honey,” said June, pulling me to the door. “Daddy and I are going to the movies.”

****

“Tonight?” I asked June as we left the office building and entered the glare of the busy downtown Manhattan afternoon.

“Sure,” she answered. “We’re all going clubbing tonight, of course. How else would you plan on spending a Friday evening?”

June was dressed, as usual, in clothes that left little to the imagination. Her orange t-shirt was cropped to within an inch of its life, clinging with desperation to decency by extending below the bottom curve of her breasts. The outthrust of her chest left a space between the cotton and the skin of her upper abdomen, promising glimpses of heaven if only the correct vantage point could be achieved.

Similarly, her white denim shorts bore little resemblance to the usual garment by that name. The top had been rolled down so that her hips barely gripped the cloth, the minimal friction afforded by their contact being all that kept gravity from dragging the shorts down her legs. The low-slung position revealed the beginning of the outward curve of her ass, and hinted at the top of the valley between her ass cheeks. The challenge offered by the top of the shorts was only too eagerly taken up by the bottom of them. Skin-tight, they hugged more than just her hips. The line of the hems drew diagonals across her ass, allowing people to see the lower half of each cheek. The low-slung front revealed the top of her new peony peeking out from over the denim. Surprisingly, she was wearing sensible sneakers.

I put my arm around her waist and drew her in tight against me as we walked to the subway entrance. The businessmen and women walked past us, on their way back to work from lunch, all anonymous in their standard uniforms of conservative suits. We drew more than a few stares on our walk. I let my hand creep up her side, until I could feel the warm soft underside of her right tit brush against the top of my thumb. She giggled, and pulled my hand down to safer regions.

“Not yet, silly!”

As we waited on the subway platform for the express to take us uptown, I felt a resurgence of my familiar love and lust for June. I hugged her close to me, feeling the impression of her breasts through our two cotton shirts. I looked down into her grey-green eyes, twinkling away up at me.

“Kiss me…” she whispered intently.

I obliged, lowering my face to meet hers, her tongue entering her father’s mouth to engage mine wetly. I reached down and cupped her ass, one cheek in each hand, the generous amount of exposed skin making thrilling contact with my palms. I closed my eyes, loving the intimacy and reality, the life in my daughter, the way she reached out and grabbed what she wanted with confidence. I delighted, as she did, in the fact of our making out on a subway platform, feet away from people attempting to ignore us, unaware of the truth of our relationship, our anonymity hiding the true taboo of a father and daughter engaged in sexual activity. This was a drug: addictive, physically and emotionally. If June’s plan was to bring about my downfall simply by being available whenever and wherever I wanted, it was simple yet devastating.

I pulled back from our kiss, my hands still holding her butt, dazed by her power over me. She pushed her hips into mine, her denim-clad crotch subtly grinding against mine. My cock, newly rekindled, rewarded her brazen action with betraying throbs.

“Why you dirty old man,” she breathed, smirking, “I believe there’s life in him yet!”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. The train pulled in saving me from further conversation.

****

Forty-five minutes later, I found myself at the back of a nearly deserted movie theater with June. The movie showing on the screen was Unfaithful. Diane Lane and her lover were in the process of negotiating their first intimacy. June put her hand on my thigh, and leaned over to me.

“That Diane Lane sure is hot, isn’t she? I’d love to kiss her like he’s doing.”

I looked at her, her eyes intent on the action on the screen. Her lips were parted slightly, and her cheeks flushed. Her hand stroked my thigh, reaching between my legs, brushing gently over my crotch, until she deftly unsnapped my pants. Her small hand wriggled its way inside, grasping my cock by the root and rearranging me so that I hung outside of my pants. She turned her head to look at me, and smiled mischievously. She leaned over, and took my half-tumescent member into her mouth, sucking lightly for a few seconds. I quickly gained full erection, expanding along her tongue, filling her mouth with my flesh.

“Mmmmm… tastes like Esme…” she murmured, before taking me back into her mouth again. I involuntarily thrust into her, feeling the suction of her cheeks against the sides of my cock. I stroked her back with one hand, reaching around her to unbutton her shorts. Onscreen, Diane Lane relived the passion of her union with her lover on the train back to Long Island.

I worked her shorts down over her hips, June aiding me by raising her butt off of the chair. She settled down on her knees on the seat of her chair, her back bowed over my lap, her ass, shadowy in the dark light, raised up. The sensations coming from her ministrations were ecstatic, but I had resistance born from my recent intimacy with Esme. I held the back of her head with one hand, steadying her, stroking her soft hair, while with the other hand, I explored her rear.

Oh, that ass! I had been teased by it for days now, from the first ‘accidental’ exposure to her casual display walking through New York City today. I caressed the two globes, feeling the strength of the muscles underneath, toned by endless cheerleading practices. The cleft in between invited me to explore further, and I obliged, my fingers trailing down between into that valley. I brushed across her asshole, causing a little twitch in my daughter’s body, but she resumed sucking me, now licking along the sides of my shaft, now blowing on the head.

I let my fingers dip lower, feeling the wetness of her pussy, the easy way in which her lips parted to allow me to gather lubrication from her moisture. Armed thus with the means to access, I spread the slippery stuff back up to her anus. I circled the rubbery ring, allowing her muscles there to relax in expectation of my entrance. My finger then dipped into the center of that tiny hole, the sphincter opening up to greet me. I pushed in, gently, but insistently, to the second knuckle.

“Oh!” she gasped, a shudder running through her sexy form.

“You like that?” I whispered. She nodded, her eyes hidden from me by the cascade of her hair. I pushed forward, the velvety interior of her rectum swallowing my finger. At last, my finger was fully seated within her, my knuckle pressed up against her ass. The heat and grip of her asshole was astonishing. I could only imagine what it would feel like to possess her with my cock. The idea caused even more blood to rush to my already engorged member, expanding its girth within my daughter’s mouth.

Our surroundings forgotten, we began a rhythmic movement together, she on my prick, I in her ass. Our moans mingled with those emanating from the movie. She rocked against my finger, trying to get more into her. The next time I was poised to enter her, I added my middle finger to my index. With only a slight whimper, she accomodated the new digit. I used my other hand to guide her head deep onto my cock, the tip of it now pushing against the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, but straightened her neck, and swallowed me deep into her throat. Her lips came to rest against the base of my cock, and she began a rhythmic swallowing, the muscles of her tongue and throat contracting around me, milking me, causing another tide of semen to rise from my balls and cascade down her throat. Simultaneously, remarkably, I felt her begin to shudder continuously, her anus spasming around my fingers.

She pulled her head back, disengaging my cock from her throat, and proceeded to lovingly lick my shaft down to limpness once more. Coming back to my senses, I looked at the screen, where a new scene had begun. I had lost track of the plot, but a woman a few rows ahead of us had become aware of the drama behind her. Her eyes locked into mine, and she winked, mouthing “Bravo!” I ceremoniously removed my fingers from June’s ass, and helped her up to acknowledge our admirer. A small stream of spunk had escaped her mouth, creating a trail down her chin. She nodded to our voyeur, cleaning up the semen with a finger, and sucking it dry.

****

After the movie, June and I went to Esme’s apartment. I could not believe the size of the place: a huge loft in Tribeca, tastefully decorated with modern furniture. Esme gave me a tour of the place, obviously proud. The bedroom alone was the size of my entire apartment, and the bed was enormous, a waterbed, covered with satin sheets.

“My goodness!” I said. “How does an executive assistant afford this kind of place?”

“Actually,” Esme replied, “I make quite a bit working for Ms. Finzi. But this apartment is hers. She lives in Westchester, and she likes to have a place in the city for entertaining. So, she allows her assistant to live here as long as she’s willing to host any events that take place.”

“Sounds like you’ve landed yourself a plum of a job.”

“Absolutely! I’m saving enough money to pay for college when I go in two years, with extra to invest!”

“Enough chit-chat,” June interrupted. “We’ve got work to do before we can go out tonight. Dad? Esme has a question for you.”

I raised an eyebrow at June, and then turned questioningly to her hot friend. Esme looked embarrassed.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “It can’t be anything too out there, considering what you did this afternoon.”

She giggled, regaining her composure somewhat.

“OK, you’ve got a point there. I’d like you to, um, well, to shave me. You know. Down there.”

I looked at her, astonished.

“Well, we need to be clean shaven for our plans tonight,” she said defensively.

I couldn’t believe my luck. Or was it luck? June seemed to have every move of this week choreographed to perfection. As if she knew every secret of my perverted brain. As always, however, I couldn’t resist the allure of the enchanting amusements she had planned. They were just too fun to give up. I quickly assumed the air of a professional hair stylist.

“If madam would be so kind as to step to the bathroom?”

I took note of the delighted look in June’s eyes, and Esme, set at ease almost immediately, laughed out loud. She led the way to the bathroom, a study in marble and light. I seized a fluffy purple towel and lay it on the floor. I fetched a chair from the bedroom and placed it on the towel.

“Now, madam, if you would please disrobe.”

Esme, obviously never shy, divested her body of the conservative pants suit she had changed into after the demolishment of her previous outfit. She carefully folded each piece of clothing after she took it off, showing far more care for this suit than for the last. I watched her closely, as she bared herself slowly in front of June and myself. Her dark skin stood out against her white undergarments, a white camisole and panties set, far less racy than the pair she had worn earlier. She pulled the camisole over her head, her elegant breasts standing firm on their own. I noted how in shape she was, like June, having enjoyed the legacy of cheerleading. Her flat abdomen and strong limbs made her seem like a living sculpture.

She looked at me deliberately, then turned away to peel off her panties. The cotton clung to her skin, reluctant to give up its role as guardian of her most intimate places. Finally, though, with a rush, the underwear slipped down her legs. She turned, and once again I was faced with the luxuriant bush she sported at the junction of her legs.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked softly. She nodded. I nodded back, and asked her to sit down. June handed me a washcloth that she had put in warm water. I held her eyes. She looked back at me, defiant.

I turned to Esme, and proceeded to wash her pubic hair. She had a well-maintained bikini wax, so I wouldn’t have to shave her legs. I gently pulled her knees apart, and knelt between her legs. Softly, I ran the cloth across her vulva, and then, urging her to sit forward, over her perineum and up to her anus as well. I looked up to find that June had a pair of scissors for me. Esme had her eyes closed.

With careful cuts, I trimmed her pubic hair down very short. I pulled the hair away from her skin in order to avoid any nicks. To this point, I had not actually touched her. As I worked around her vulva, I saw that her anxiety was being replaced by arousal. Her labia had separated, showing the pink inside. At the head of the slit, her clitoris was beginning to stiffen. I resisted the urge to investigate her anatomy more closely. I had a job to do, and I couldn’t afford to lose my concentration while working around such delicate skin.

Now June handed me some shaving cream in a mug, warm water creating a lather, and a brush. With careful strokes of the brush, I applied the cream to Esme’s mons and vulva. Each stroke with the bristled instrument caused her to twinge, despite my care. I finally touched her with my fingers, insinuating the cream into every crack. She certainly didn’t need any more moisture there, as my fingers slipped through the folds of her sex.

Finally, June handed me a new razor. With downward strokes, I started the process of removing Esme’s hair. Each pass of the razor revealed more skin. In only a few seconds, I had denuded her mons, and had to proceed to her vulva.

“June, could you give me a hand here?” I pulled Esme’s knees further apart to make room for June to kneel next to me.

“Please put a finger in here, and pull to your right.” June gave me a wicked smile as she saw what I had planned. She shook her head, and inserted her index finger right up into Esme’s pussy. The invasion caused her to jump and gasp out loud. I indicated to June that she needed to keep still. I didn’t want our friend’s arousal to boil over too soon.

With June gently distending Esme’s lips to the side, I was able to carefully sweep the blade across the right side of the girl’s vulva, cleaning the skin of any hairs, both inside and outside of the labia. I quickly stood up and moved around June, allowing her to pull to the left so that I could likewise shave the other side. Then, with incredible care, I pulled the skin around Esme’s clit tight. Once again, she shuddered, reaching a new plateau of excitement. I waited until she had settled down, and then drew the blade across the skin of her prepuce.

I left June’s finger inside Esme’s tunnel, and washed the area that I had shaved to this point. Esme was now quivering, visibly restraining herself from fucking herself on June’s finger. My shaving so far had been impeccable. I told Esme to stand up, which she did, on quaking legs, still impaled by June. I helped her to swivel on that digit, the poor girl now moaning continuously. I had her kneel down, her butt up in the air. June grasped one buttock, I the other, and we pulled them apart, revealing her brown asshole, winking at us in time with the convulsions racking her body. I carefully removed the few hairs that graced her perineum and around her anus. Washing off this last area, I nodded to June, who started to push in and out with her finger. I leaned down and applied my tongue to Esme’s anus, pushing in on the little hole. Between the dual assault, Esme quickly melted into a massive orgasm, there on the bathroom floor.

****

“Why did you need her to be clean-shaven?” I asked June out in the main part of the loft. We had left Esme to collect herself.

“You’ll see soon enough. I’m ordering some pizza to be delivered. We’re not going out until ten tonight.”

****

At 9:30, I finally found out the reason. I had spent the last two and a half hours watching television while the girls had been locked up in Esme’s bedroom. June had given me an outfit to wear that she had picked out specifically for me. I was wearing skin-tight black leather pants with buttons down the front and no underwear. On top, a white, loose shirt. The leather molded to my penis in a highly satisfying way.

When the two girls emerged, I could see that they had spent some time preparing themselves for a night out in NYC, but clearly that had not taken up all of the time they had been in there. Esme had her long brown hair up while June had hers all loose around her shoulders, forming a golden halo around her head. Both girls were dressed for clubbing. June was wearing a sheer black blouse, through which you could see her lacy bra, also black. She was wearing a tight black lycra skirt that reached too midthigh, and black boots with a two inch heel that laced up to mid-calf. Esme, on the other hand, had an identical sheer blouse in red, and a lacy bra in red underneath. Her skirt was white and swishy, and she had on the same boots as June, only in red.

The two were a vision of beauty, sexy and alluring. Yet, from my experience with June this week, both girls were surprisingly conservatively dressed. I was about to make a comment to this effect when I realized that something seemed a little bit off about those bras.

June saw the quizzical look on my face and laughed.

“Do you like our outfits, Daddy?” she asked as she walked across the room to me.

Now I could see what had bothered me about her bra: her breasts were moving too freely. As she approached me, I reached out and brushed my hand over one of her tits. She stood proudly, chest outthrust, hands at her sides, inviting exploration. My hand reported to my brain that my eyes had deceived me. There was no bra on that gorgeous mound of flesh. I blinked several times. The illusion was masterful.

“Body-paint,” June explained. “We’ve been taking some courses.”

I looked at Esme’s chest: now I could tell that her nipples were standing out in a way that they never could had she been wearing a bra. But at first glance, I had been completely fooled.

“It gets better,” whispered June into my ear. Esme lifted her skirt up. Underneath she seemed to be wearing a pair of hot pants in red, but the contours of her triangle (now hairless) were too smooth. Then she turned and bent forward, holding the skirt up above her ass. The faux hot-pants described arcs above her ass cheeks, the illusory material diving between the cheeks. But her legs framed a clearly visible pair of pussy-lips, despite their candy-red color.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered hoarsely. “Is this some sort of ‘anything-goes’ kind of club we’re going to?”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy,” June replied. “If it were that kind of place, where would the fun be?”

My mind goggled. Her plan was outrageous, but could work. In the dimmer lighting of the club, people wouldn’t be able to see the details that gave the illusion away.

“Let’s go,” said Esme, her eyes twinkling. She let her skirt fall back into place, and we went out the door.

The club was a few blocks away, and as we walked, I observed the free motion of the two tits on either side of me. In profile, each nipple was obvious in its erect state. And yet, unless we were directly under a street lamp, you really couldn’t tell the difference. And even in direct light, a casual glance would just assume a bra where there was none.

Seeing two such stunning ladies on my arms, the bouncer ushered us directly in, bypassing the long line of would-be club-goers. I ignored the crowd of indignant shouts and pressed a hundred bucks into the hand of the oversize man. He acknowledged my gratuity with a nod as he held the door for us.