Look Good Naked

"Okay, I've got an idea. Wait there."

I ran out to the kitchen, and returned a minute later with a clean short glass I usually used for Baileys, with a couple of ice cubes swirling in the bottom.

"Oh no you don't," she laughed, catching sight of the glass and shaking her head.

"Pinch or chill, Love: what's your pleasure?" My nineteenth century Cockney was first class.

Phoebe's smile was resigned. The flush in her cheeks was growing, and I could tell she was getting excited by the prospect of either. Her nipples were already noticeably longer. She pressed her lips together, lifted her chin, and looked directly into my eyes with as much dignity as she could muster. Then she crossed her arms under her breasts and exhaled audibly, filling the air with the scent of sweet, pre-mixed vodka.

"Okay," I breathed, taking a slippery ice cube from the glass.

Phoebe's breath hitched as the frozen cube touched the end of her left nipple, and I could see it lengthen before my eyes. My own breath wavered, and I looked up to see her blush deepen as she looked down at herself.

I looped the cube around her hardening nipple, leaving a glistening trail on her engorged flesh. The backs of my numb fingers occasionally grazed her nipple as I spun the ice around and around, and I was losing myself. It only got worse when I reached her dark pink, almost purple areola. I must have completed at least half a dozen laps.

I was in awe of Phoebe's nipple, now standing out nearly two inches from her ripe breast. It was unusual, to be sure. I'd certainly never seen anything like it before. And there was something aesthetically jarring about the unfamiliar sight.

But at the same time, it was the most sexy thing I had ever seen. I just wanted to suck it, more than anything in the world.

I broke away, taking the dripping ice cube across to her right breast. Her other nipple was almost fully erect anyway, but I still repeated the process, until it was nice and shiny., and we were both breathing heavily.

"Oh, Phoebe, you have the sexiest nipples," I gasped. I was actually getting really hard. what

"Yeah," she scoffed. "You're my dad. You're supposed to say that."

"Phoebe, the last thing I'm supposed to be commenting on, is how sexy your nipples are."

She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes brimming and her cheeks still flushed. Then she bit the side of her bottom lip. "You know, you can stop rubbing them with the ice if you like."

"Oops," I laughed. "See what I mean? Sweety, your nipples are gorgeous. I can't help myself."

"So are you going to stop rubbing ice on them?" she chirped.

Her giggle turned mischievous, then she snatched the glass containing the other two ice cubes, pulled out the waistband of my tracksuit pants and poured in the icy contents.

I recoiled back in shock, desperately fishing the freezing cubes from my undies. We were both howling with laughter.

"Seems ice has the opposite effect on boners," she teased, with her hands on her hips.

"So it does." I cleared my throat. "Your still not convinced you've got great nipples?"

She wasn't having it. And with the reaction of the dumb shit she'd been with earlier that night, I honestly couldn't blame her. So I thought back to what the Fairy Gokmother would do.

"Okay, I've got an idea," I started. "Remember the show? He puts a photo of the woman's bangers up on the side of a building..."

"We're not doing that!" she squealed.

"Yes, because I know just how to arrange that," I said sarcastically. "All that outdoor projection experience I have. And don't forget my billboard contacts..."

"All right!" She tilted her head with a pout. "What are you thinking?"

"We take a photo, and instantaneously put it out there on the line, and share it with other people." I was quoting The Internship we'd watched together the week before, but she didn't laugh. "I'm sure there's sites out there where you can put up nude photos and get comments."

"Are you serious?" She was frowning.

"We won't show your face or anything. Just a shot of your breasts. Completely anonymous. Just so you can see the comments."

"I don't know." Her face softened.

"Look," I reassured. "We'll just start with the photos, and see how you feel after that. Okay?"

She reluctantly agreed, and I went and got the camera from the study. She stood stiffly in the centre of her bedroom as I snapped away at her from various angles, gritting her teeth and blushing.

"That's it, Love." Gok was back. "Give me another sigh. Perfect! Now give me another one, but this time, roll your eyes too. Really throw them back, yeah?"

Phoebe started giggling, and the tension evaporated. I was bouncing around the room, clicking away like a madman and tearing the ass out of the cockney photographer routine. She played along, striking poses and blowing kisses, and generally getting caught up in the horseplay. But the wheels eventually fell off when my Gok Wan impersonation somehow morphed into Richard Simmons screaming, "Like a pony! Like a pony!"

Phoebe doubled over with laughter, her beautiful breasts jiggling hypnotically. I stood from my crouch on her floor and cleared my throat, trying in vain to recapture some of my respectability.

We hurried into the study to hook the camera up to the computer. Phoebe pulled a spare chair up next to mine, and it was then that I noticed that she was still topless, wearing nothing but those skimpy little panties.

"Hey, I'm up here, perv," she grinned.

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment at being caught looking. "You know what? I think we should make a new house rule: you're not allowed to wear a bra at home anymore. Your nipples are just too beautiful to be hidden away."

"Yeah, right." She snorted. But this time, her smile didn't fade.

We shared a brief look, then turned our attention to the screen. I'd taken a hundred and twenty-seven photos of her, which made us both laugh out loud. We scrolled through them quickly, shortlisting possibles into a separate folder. The first thirty or so captured all the awkwardness and discomfort of the moment, but as she loosened up, the photos came to life. Another fifty or so showed her face.

"Hey!" Phoebe slapped my arm as we scrolled through half a dozen shots tightly framing her perfect ass stuck out at the camera. One of which showed her pulling the waistband down over her hip, and another with her spanking herself.

"I'm an artist." I shrugged my shoulders, and blushed again.

In the end, we ended up with three photos. One was a full body shot, with her hands on her hips and her turned face hidden by her hair. The second was a upper body shot of Phoebe lifting her hair above her head, with one breast in profile and the other directly facing the lens. And the final tightly cropped shot showed her lifting and squeezing her breasts together, giving the best view of her nipples.

It didn't take long to find a nude version of instagram, with a Google search for "naked selfies" spitting out over a million results. We quickly registered and uploaded the photos, adding the tag line, "What do you think of my nipples?"

"Now we wait." I sat back in the chair, letting my eyes fall once again to Phoebe's lovely chest.

She cocked her head at me and smiled, the faintest hue returning to her cheeks. "I should put something on." She stood and strode from the room.

"Just remember the new house rule," I called over my shoulder.

Phoebe turned on her heel in the doorway and blew me a kiss, then disappeared with a giggle. I took the opportunity to get something to drink.

I called out, "Phoebe, Sweetheart? I'm making some hot chocolate. Do you want one?"

"Yes please, Daddy. Thanks."

When I returned to the study with the two steaming mugs, Phoebe was still in her room. I crossed the hall and found her standing in front of the mirror with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a tight white Hello Kitty t-shirt that didn't quite come all the way down to the waistband of her panties. She turned and pouted at me. Her nipples were stretching her top out in a taut circus tent across her chest.

"You're going to ruin that shirt," I chuckled.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I don't think your new rule is going to work out.

I stepped over to her, and took the hem of her t-shirt, whispering, "Revision to the rule:" I lifted the thin fabric up her body. "You have to be topless at home."

"Okay," she smiled at me in the mirror. "But so do you." With that, she spun around and lifted my own t-shirt up. "One in, all in," she grinned.

We started giggling, like a couple of schoolgirls. Then Phoebe quickly reached up and playfully tweaked my nipples. I jumped at the electric shock, then launched my own counter attack. When she covered her breasts, I started tickling her around the ribs, which soon degenerated into a squealing wrestling match.

Phoebe tried to escape across her bed, crawling frantically away from me. I caught her ankle and dragged her back towards me. She tried to roll off to the side, but I pounced on top of her, pinning her busy hands above her head. Her body heaved with fits of laughter, her excited nipples at full mast inches in front of my face.

I couldn't help myself. I lowered my face and sucked her right nipple into my mouth.

With my lips at the base, kissing her areola, I sucked hard on the full length of her oversized nipple. My tongue licked and sucked at her engorged flesh, bending the shaft as it swirled around.

I pulled back in shock at what I had just done. She was my daughter!

I gaped at Phoebe, her own face frozen, her eyes wide. We stared at each other for an eternity. The silence was deafening. Excruciating.

"What about the other one?" Her rasp was barely audible above the heartbeat thundering away in my ears.

My entire body flushed with an incredible warmth, with the heat at its most intense in my nose and gaping lips. Phoebe twisted her upper body slightly to the right, offering up her left breast. Her eyes were glazed over in a hopeful, forbidden lust.

I involuntarily sank back down onto her, cupping her tender breast in my hand. I lapped at her soft flesh, licking around the base of her nipple, then slowly up its incredible length. Swirling my tongue around as I went, I sucked it into my mouth like my life depended on it.

Phoebe moaned, arching her back to press more of her breast into my mouth. It was obvious from her reaction, and her insecurities, that she'd never experienced this sensation before.

In my own lust and confusion, I wanted to give my baby girl that experience, that pleasure. But it was ironically that thought that snapped me back to reality, again forcing me to throw myself back off her.

I cleared my throat after a few seconds trying to catch my breath. "Our hot chocolate's going cold."

"Uh-ha," she breathed, sitting up. "We should check on those comments anyway."

We sheepishly padded back into the study to check the comments on the photos, and hide behind our hot chocolates. When our eyes met, we both blushed and looked anywhere else. But very quickly, that cheeky little smile overtook us, causing to steal a glimpse of each other again.

"Holy shit!" I half coughed up my drink. "You've already had one thousand two hundred and twenty-nine views! And most people are scoring you five out of five. Look." I pointed at the voting results on the screen.

"How many comments are there?" Her tone was so timid.

The profile page indicated forty-eight comments, displayed across separate pages of twenty. We started reading the first page, which although fairly crass, was entirely positive.

"Oh my God!" Phoebe held her hand across her mouth to cover an astonished laugh, her eyes bulging.

I caught up to where she was. "'Your tits are so fucking hot. The only thing that would make them look better, is if they were covered in my cum.'" I couldn't help but laugh. "What a wordsmith."

"Real charmer," she giggled.

We continued reading, clicking onto the next page. As we did, the number of views refreshed itself to over fifteen hundred, and the comments spilled over onto a fourth page.

"Oh, that one's really sweet," I smiled, pointing at the screen.

"'Your breasts are so lovely. I have nipples like that too. I only wish I could be as confident as you showing them off. You make them look sexy. You've really made me feel better about mine. Thank you.' Oh, Daddy." Phoebe's hand went back across her mouth, but this time her eyes welled.

The comments kept coming, When I clicked on the fifth page, a hyperlinked "Next" appeared at the bottom of the page, indicating more than a hundred. Most of them were simple sentence fragments about how hot Phoebe's nipples were. There were plenty of incredibly graphic statements of intent, which were, in their own way, positive. And most powerful of all, were about half a dozen or so really touching messages. Phoebe was overwhelmed by the feedback, and she struggled to swallow down the lump in her throat.

I stroked Phoebe's silky smooth thigh. "Now do you believe me?" I whispered.

She nodded, pressing her lips together to try and stop herself from crying. She slowly closed her big, dewy eyes and kissed me softly on the lips. "Thank you."

I put my arm around her naked shoulders, squeezing her into me for an awkward, seated hug, and kissed the top of her head. We sat there together like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying the moment and finishing the last of our hot chocolate.

"So shall we keep going?" Phoebe sat upright, her expression hopeful.

"Sure," I smiled.

We sidled back into Phoebe's room, with my hands on her hips the entire way. As we stood in front of the mirror, I marvelled at the last thread of clothing she wore in the reflection: those tiny, black lace panties.

Her shoulders slouched slightly as she sighed. But she held my gaze in the mirror. I placed my hands lightly on her bare shoulders, conscious that I didn't have a shirt on either.

I kissed her ear and whispered, "It's okay."

Phoebe hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. She hesitated a second, then slowly pulled them down over her subtle hips. A dark thatch of pubic hair came into view as her panties collapsed into a thin line across her sex, before continuing down. She bent over in front of me to guide her underwear down her gorgeous thighs, her naked ass pressing back into the hardness in my tracksuit pants. At her knees, she let her panties drop the rest of the way to the floor, then straightened again.

Completely naked, my daughter was a vision. An absolute vision.

I could see her throat tensing as she searched my reflection for reassurance. She didn't know what to do with her hands, and her fingers ended up lightly tracing the gentle ridge of her hip bones.

"Sweetheart, you're stunning."

"You can't see my clit?" she squeaked nervously.

"Not from this angle, Sweety." I slid my hand around her hip and ran my fingers through the thick pubes on her mound. "Then again, with this Don't Mess with the Zohan bush of yours, it's a little hard to see anything."

She half turned and slapped my arm in retaliation. But she was still smiling.

"Here." I pointed. "Come over and sit on the bed."

I guided her over to her bed by her hips. She spun out of my grip and sat on the edge of her bed, her long legs pressed tightly together. I could still see that dark tuft at the apex of her thighs as she sat there looking up at me, her hands resting on her knees.

I pulled the stool from her dressing table over and sat in front of her, our knees touching. Then gently laying my hands on hers, I breathed, "Are you able to show me?"

Phoebe gave me the sweetest smile, almost pleading with me not to hurt her. I returned the most reassuring look I could, and with that, I felt her knees part beneath our hands.

Honestly, I was shocked. It took everything I had not to flinch at the sight. It looked like a little finger, about two inches long, surrounded by a dark forest of pubic hair.

"What do you think?" Her tone was painfully insecure.

"I can see what you're trying to do. But I think you might be making it worse trying to cover it up." I reached out slowly towards her. "Here, let me..."

I gently brushed back her pubes, bringing her labia into view. Her lips were long, soft pink petals, hugging the sides of her clit, the creases between them forming an elongated "V". Her inner labia protruded slightly at the bottom, a darker shade of pink, and shining slightly from her earlier arousal. And there was that sticky, earthy smell.

I don't know how long I looked at my daughter's vulva, but the strain in my back from leaning forward so long finally forced me to stop. When I sat up, Phoebe stared into my eyes expectantly, her cheeks still flushed.

I smiled, my own eyes welling with tears. "Sweety, you are so pretty down there."

Phoebe's chin trembled. A few tears started leaking from the inside corners of her eyes. She wanted to believe me so much.

"I think if we trim back your pubes, it'll look a lot nicer," I reassured softly. Then I went Goktastic again, "At the moment, Love, you're all bush and clit. Let's hack that back and let everyone see how gorgeous it is underneath, yeah?"

Phoebe started laughing, her whole body rocking in bouncing fits. "Okay. I trust you."

I took her hand and led her into my ensuite. Sitting her on a folded towel on the edge of the bath, I got my beard trimmer and reset the length of the comb to about a centimetre and a half. My George Michael designer stubble look wasn't quite what she needed.

"When did you and Mum know I had an enlarged clit?" Phoebe broke in.

"I suppose we found out when you were born. Before then, we actually thought you were a boy from the ultrasound."

"That's why my room was blue for so long?" she smiled.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "We didn't have a lot of money back then, and we couldn't afford to re-paint."

With a low, high-speed hum that made us both giggle, I mowed the pubic hair on her mound in long, slow strokes. Then repeated the process, going back the other way. Little dark curls fell to the floor between her feet, contrasting heavily with the white tiles.

"So you guys were expecting a boy?"

"Yeah," I snorted a laugh. "We had a name picked out and everything. We were going to call you Edmond, after your mum's grandfather."

Her bush was already beautifully shaped to fit nicely into those skimpy little panties she wore. And now the length made her muff look much neater. Much sexier.

"that must have been a shock?"

"Not at all. We both secretly wanted a girl. And when we found out, we both started crying." My eyes brimmed at the memory. "You were perfect."

I dialled the comb down to its shortest setting, only about a millimetre, then slowly ran it through the long, uncontrolled pubes running down either side of her labia. The clippers crackled through her hair as I very carefully traced the contours of her vulva. More and more, her pretty pussy came into view, framed only by short stubble.

"Careful there," she giggled. "That's not the buzzing down there I'm used to."

"I bet," I laughed.

We shared a knowing grin as I tapped the last of her pubic hair from my trimmer. I told her to stay put, and quickly retrieved a bowl from the kitchen, and a dustpan and brush from the hall cupboard. She was still sitting spreadeagle on the edge of the bath when I returned, and after tidying up the mess on the floor, I filled the bowl with warm water. Then I sat down on the tiles between her legs with my shaving supplies.

"So you knew I wasn't normal when I was born?" she continued.

"Oh, Sweety," I sighed. "You're normal. You just have a bigger clit than most girls. I think it's called something like clitomania, or clitoromegaly, or something. We got you checked out, and you were perfectly healthy."