A Week of June: Friday

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.