Sixth Form Slimmer - A Friend in Ne

Whatever it was, Becky lay, naked, caressed by something or someone unknown. Almost as if relearning an inborn instinct, the fingers of one of her hands reached up to tease already erect nipples atop her AA cup, firm breasts. Each touch sent tingles, each tingle relaxed her more, each wave of relaxation brought even more pleasant feelings of arousal. She was engrossed in her own world of new sensations, oblivious to all around her.

The fingers of her other hand reached down to seek out her highly sensitive clit. She was wet. Very wet.

-----

Ryan had been awake for a while now. His mom had long since given up expecting him to come down for breakfast much before noon. He, too, had a full bladder, but holding his piss added to the very pleasant feeling of a full erection.

He knew, from the after-soccer team showers, that his cock was neither the biggest nor the smallest of his team mates. But it was ample. And just as now, when it filled to near bursting, it was more than ample to entertain whichever of the team's groupies he cared to hang out with. Girls talked amongst themselves. There was always competition to be with him ... always a desire to check out for themselves the size of Ryan's engorged cock, touch, caress, test it to the limit. It made them, and Ryan, feel good.

Several of the girls at school and several others - friends, family and more - followed the team home and away, ferried around by parents - fathers who enjoyed the football and mothers who acted as unpaid taxis. The choice of girls was there, every week during term time, for Ryan to pick as he pleased. Sometimes just a kiss and grope, sometimes a blowjob, sometimes freshly worn panties to bring home, sometimes much, much more.

Ryan heard his sister go to the bathroom but thought nothing of it. Listened to her pee noisily, for in her rush she hadn't closed the bathroom door. Sometimes she did that, closing it only if she knew Ryan or her daddy were around. Was it odd for a brother to enjoy listening to his sister pee?

One of the soccer groupies, Suzanna, had let him look, satisfied his curiosity. Such a small hole, hidden away, a little way below her love-button She'd giggled when Ryan had explored there with his tongue. Suzanna was good for a kiss, good for a grope. She sucked him off real good, even though she almost choked! Good for a dare and, if she really liked you, good for a fuck.

They'd got together at Ryan's 18th birthday party, a few weeks before the school summer break, Suzanna had wrapped herself around him most of the evening. What started off a just a birthday kiss had ended up with much more. During the following weeks they'd hardly been apart – then Suzanna, like many of the groupies, beacme discarded in favour of a new girlfriend.

Finally, parted from his reverie, his need to pee became too much. Reluctantly he had to move from his comfy bed. Passing Becky's room he stopped in his tracks. Her door had blown open just sufficient for him to see inside. Unusual ... her door was normally snecked shut.

What he saw was beyond belief: Becky, naked as the day she was born, niftily, swiftly moving fingers here and there; fingers that seemed to moving of their own accord, fingers that knew exactly where to go. Becky, his shy, dowdy, slightly tubby sister wasn't like that, surely? He'd heard the stories at school - big sis knew nothing about sex, never talked about sex, had only one boyfriend ... for two days.

So why the fuck was she laid there now, showing him her all?

Suzanna and the other soccer team groupies totally forgotten, his need to pee put further on hold, Ryan gazed wide-eyed. His jaw dropped. This wasn't a soccer girl he only half knew. This wasn't a girl who just wanted his attention. This was his sister. His cock regained its fullness, tenting his boxers.

With one hand Becky was caressing her tiny titties, now pulling her nipples enough to hurt. With the other hand she was rapidly fingering her clit. Soft moans came from her mouth. Her eyes were shut tightly.

The fine blonde hair that barely covered her mound hid nothing. Very neatly curved, thought Ryan, just a split mound ... a split widened by busy fingers. The glistening juice on her fingers and slowly running from her love cave was inviting. Even her tiny titties looked deliciously perfect. Ryan's cock was now firm within his fist ... his rapidly moving fist. Bringing him closer and closer.

Fuck. Just as his sister gave out a very satisfied moan of pleasure, a gallon of Ryan's jizz shot out, some splashing and running down Becky's bedroom door, some landing in a pool on the carpet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Despite all the speed of mopping up with tissue there remained small telltale damp patches. Ryan just hoped beyond hope they wouldn't be noticed. Hoped he hadn't been noticed, but Becky was lost in a dream of her own.

She slipped quickly into a deep sleep. She awoke later feeling in absolute bliss, deeply relaxed, still horny and with the vivid memory of an erotic dream ... a very vivid dream about her brother. On the spur of the moment she sought out her favourite panties, short denim skirt and a thin white tee-shirt. Perhaps her brother might realise it was he who had made her so horny and it was he, running naked on a football pitch, who featured in her dream.

She was totally unaware that he'd already had a private viewing.

-----

So when I'm lying in my bed,
Thoughts running through my head
And I feel that love is dead
I'm loving angels instead.

-----

Becky hadn't felt this good for quite some time. All day long her nipples stood proud and even the slightest movement of the thin cotton against them gave her pleasurable sensations. She couldn't remember when her microtits had felt so sensitive.

Her brother noticed ... too damn right he noticed. AA cup or not, her nipples told the plain truth; she was horny. Even her daddy noticed when he returned from work. Damn what he thought. Damn what her brother thought. Becky still felt horny that night when she went to bed.

During the day, try as she might, Becky just could not get one other thought out of her head. She rang Emily but there was no reply. She sent her text after text asking when she could see Gordon. Emily replied each time that her daddy was at work. It just wasn't possible for a candle session before Saturday. Period.

Meanwhile, I had been quizzing Emily. Becky, now I knew, had been bullied at school for her shyness and small size, her tiny breasts ... even her choice of clothes She was shy and a comfort eater, didn't have a boyfriend ... didn't even know what a blowjob was. Her brother was the total opposite but looked after his 'little' sister, taking on the bullies one by one. Their ages caused some confusion but I now knew Becky was the elder by just 13 months.

-----

That night, Ryan just couldn't get to sleep. Not only had his sister given him a premiere Oscar winning performance but she'd walked around all day, seemingly without a care, with two coat peg nipples pushing against what was a very thin tee-shirt. Like many teens, Becky had favourite clothes. Comfortable, well-worn casual clothes like her well washed tee-shirt that was becoming thinner and thinner with every wash.

What did her daddy think? Neither Ryan nor Becky had heard him say anything but his eyes told all, following Becky as she walked round in an almost see thru top. No bra either. Not even one of her AA cup trainer bras that looked as if it belonged to a much younger girl. What was Becky thinking?

Somehow, Ryan had suddenly found his sister strangely arousing. How could small titties produce such large nipples? Nature has a way of evening things out; babies need to feed, even if the milk jugs aren't very big. How had he been so wrong, why had he never noticed before? And why, he wondered, was she making him so fucking hard?

All day and almost until he went to sleep, Ryan tossed over in his mind the conundrum that was Becky. Was she trying to repay him for tackling the school bullies? Was she at last growing out of the shyness that plagued her social life? In bed he replayed, almost like a video, what he'd seen that morning. By the time he'd got to sleep his cock was sore and his jizz stores were completely empty.

-----

Trevor had noticed his daughter had been behaving quite differently. Was Becky just in one if her teenage moods? Sometimes ... often times ... teenage girls could be quite precocious. But Becky? No, surely not. His pint sized baby was more quiet and shy than any of her friends - few they may be.

He'd witnessed for himself Becky bending forward, some well worn tee-shirt that he could almost see right through, gaping just enough to show inside of it ... though admittedly it was only a tiny peek. And later in the evening with the light from the window behind her, showing a conical silhouette of what small titties she had. And sat on the chair, quite lazily, in that short skirt of hers! Why, he could even make out a damp patch on her panties.

Even though he knew she'd seen him looking, she'd made no attempt to block his view. In fact, the opposite ... she'd made it even easier. He would tell her mom.

No, he thought, Becky's mom would just say he shouldn't have looked. Only pervy fathers did that. Like when they'd chanced upon that beach in Spain. She'd caught him casting more than a glance at some topless teen girls ... and much worse still she'd seen him trying to peek inside Becky's towel as she changed. Later that night she'd refused him sex and refused point blank to let her husband perv any more. They hadn't visited any more beaches that holiday.

Who was that school friend she'd been hanging around with? Emily? Yes, Emily ... Trevor had driven Becky to Emily's birthday party last year. Some nice girls there too. He'd seen some arrive in micro skirts, party wear that revealed all ... low cut tops, tits almost dropping out, faces plastered with makeup. He'd recalled that evening several times when his bitch wife was snoring away 5 minutes after the bedroom light went out.

That Emily. Lovely girl ... by god she was fit. Was she telling Becky what to wear? He couldn't risk saying something that might mean Emily never came again. Emily was very fuckable. There! He'd admitted it. Pervy? Never. Emily was 19. He was just like any other man.

No, he decided. If Becky did it again he would speak directly to her. But, but ... it was, after all, innocent fun. Although Becky's titties were very small Trev had found seeing them very arousing, even more so with the sight of Becky's damp panties. Very arousing indeed, his cock having approved almost immediately. It was surely only natural for her daddy to approve of what nature had given her.

Her mom would never have noticed later that he'd slunk guiltily to the bathroom for a wank. Becky sometimes absentmindedly left her panties there but he was out of luck. Despite that, there was nothing like a good wank, the only sexual pleasure he ever got these days.

Trev felt very much the same the following day, his daughter's display of sexuality etched deep into his memory.

-----

Saturday afternoon was too long to wait, but that was immovable. All day Friday Becky could think of nothing else but that magic candle. Saturday came, Emily met up with her and both together kept that irresistible appointment.

As soon as Emily opened the door, Becky's eyes glazed. She pushed rudely past Emily to give me a greeting I would not forget. Her kiss needed some education, rapidly taught. Her tits simply didn't feel the same as Emily's, but her hip grind immediately brought the same response; my floppy was being instantly reformatted ... and to double density.

Perhaps Becky had looked a little odd, walking to Emily's in her school uniform, occasionally tucking over the skirt waistband to shorten the length. She wanted to look her best, her (why did it matter?) her sexiest. She just knew that if, perhaps, this pleased me, I may agree to retry the candle magic. This time, she promised herself, she would not fall asleep. In her bag she had a gift for me. She hadn't a clue why, but maybe I'd love to see her favourite panties. The ones she'd worn two days before - drippingly horny all day. They weren't washed but I surely wouldn't mind. If the candle magic went well she would let me keep them as a gift.

I was indeed impressed. Just before the hug, her palmed panties were transferred to my hand, and from there into my pocket. I smiled. My newfound gift was working beyond belief.

A quick look at Becky's still glazed eyes and my hands moved swiftly down her shortened school skirt, under the hem and up to her panties. Warm, soft. Imperfect as Becky was, her butt felt amazing. Once inside her panties, my fingertips sought out the dampness, the fragrance of her treasure within - the most wonderful fragrance known to man.

Almost as reluctantly as Emily the week before, Becky relinquished her hug. Immediately Emily took her place, a momentary look of jealousy on her face. An unseen look of disgust passed over Becky's face. Why did Emily have to hug her own daddy? She was just wasting time before the candle could be lit.

-----

"Just watch the candle flame flicker. It makes your eyes so tired. So tired you want to relax and sleep."

Emily couldn't remember how she'd got there, just that she was now laid upstairs on her bed. She was feeling horny. Very horny. Not finger horny, fill-me-up-inside horny. Primed and ready.

She needn't have worried. Becky was having some Becky-time, or more to the point Becky-and-angel time. Time to think, time to absorb some intense therapy. Becky was on hold.

'Therapy, yes therapy,' I thought, taking the stairs two by two. Nothing better to put a spring in my step than the thought of entertaining my daughter. Entertaining her in the way she liked best ... entertaining her in the way I liked best.

Emily smiled as I walked into her bedroom.

"Undress. Slowly."

No sooner had Emily started to lift her tee, before even an inch of flesh was visible a rush of arousal rippled through her. Her pussy tingled, a wonderful butterfly feeling radiated from her tummy.

"Slowly."

As the cotton fabric brushed over her nipples, shivers raced through her. All her flesh goosebumped. The slower the fabric moved, the more intense was her pleasure.

"Slowly."

Every inch of her body relaxed. Then a buzzing like that of the most gentle, most erotic vibrator started to pulse against her pussy.

I was amazed. I gasped as the cotton passed over Emily's nipples. Pretty and pert. I'd seen her breasts many times but rarely when Emily was so aroused.

'Slowly.'

Every word from me enhanced the feeling more. By now Emily was in ecstasy. Hands behind her, zip pulled down, she tugged so slowly feeling every skirt fibre individually tickle her already electrified skin.

Her now naked hips emphasised so well what I first sought to achieve - my sixth form slimmer was now slim indeed. Slim, toned, perfectly in shape. My ideal princess.

I took over. Not wanting to spoil such a perfect view, I gently, slowly pulled her skirt down, over her feet, to be discarded on the floor. Every slight move of the rough denim brought her close to, but not over the point of no return.

Which just left her panties. Her soaked panties.

"Wait."

Her building orgasm now rapidly ebbed away. Words could be so cruel.

Emily knew I would want to uncover her total nakedness. That I would want to approve the scent that soaked her panties completely.

"Now me."

Even as she rose to come towards me, she knew my next words.

"No. Wait."

She felt a flood of utter pride course through her that I found her naked body so beautiful, so irresistible. She stood, posed, motionless, watched as my eyes took in her beauty. Inch by beautiful inch I too was proud of my daughter. My eyes slowly moved down her body.

"Panties. Slowly."

It was if she was giving a performance at the most expensive Soho strip club. Even though she wore only panties she gave me a tantalising display of dancing, hips swaying, seducing. She pulled me towards her bed to sit, came close ... skin only an inch in front of my face.

Emily pulled back only far enough to remove her panties, kicked them off, retrieved them, smeared the wetness under my nose, gave them to me to savour the scent.

I had viewed, appreciated, adored my daughter's naked body so many times before. Every time I looked I saw something new. Most of all I loved her beautiful breasts, each topped with the most delightful cherry. I loved the smooth unspoilt, unhidden vee atop her legs which I could kiss, smell, taste. A smooth, silky, deeply valleyed pussy, carefully tended every shower.

There was no choice. I had helped her slim, helped her study, so Emily MUST, every shower, shave herself smooth. I have a fine silk handkerchief with which I test her. Any drag of the silk against her skin would mean withdrawal of her hypnotreats.

But that particular day, Emily had been on the go for a long time. Since her early shower her divine groove was now summer-sweaty, slightly pissy and mixed with female pussy juice trapped there. The result of this combination was a wonderful odour. The deeply musky scent would not have been to everyone's liking, but I consider its acrid, sharp smell to sharpen one's senses.

Sat on the edge of the bed, I deeply inhaled the bittersweet perfume. 100% pure pheromone. Immediately I was aware of my cock gaining a fullness like never before.

"Now me."

No rush, but no need to slow. Easing me to lay flat on her bed and deftly unzipping me, she took me in her mouth. Slowly at first she took the tip and eased my foreskin back, running her tongue around the now exposed head.

Then bit by bit she took in my full length. I remembered that the first couple of times, a few weeks before, she gagged. But not now. First slowly, then faster she tried to induce the salty, sticky liquid to shoot into her throat.

"Stop!" Just in time I managed to deprive her of a mouthful of cum.

There was a genuine look of disapproval on her face but I wanted my salty liquid inside her special cave.

Playfully, she picked up her panties again and smothering my nose with them she climbed on the bed astraddle me. I now had another close-up view of my favourite part of Emily. It was her turn to tease me. She tossed her panties away.

"Please."

Her turn for a one word request - not an order. Emily raised, lowered, manoeuvred herself to allow my tongue to reach her clitty. Gently I could suck, bite, lick that most sensitive place.

"Mmmm, yes, please. Yes ... there, just there."

I can't describe the taste. I guess I don't need to for I'm sure such taste is familiar to many men ... indeed to some ladies too. It is a taste for a pussy gourmet, better than the most expensive caviar. It subtly changes too, from day to day, right up to and through the monthly four to five day break.

"Yes, daddy please. No ... no ... slower. Don't make me cum too soon. Mmmmm."

The scent, that heavenly intoxicating scent. 'Parfum de pussy', fresh daily ... or not, occasionally, too fresh daily. Both were pleasing in their own way, depending on my mood.

"Mmmmmmm. Oh! Yes!"

Even the gutteral commentary was in itself arousing, often manufactured and sold by some over a telephone wire. I turned my full attention back to Emily's clit.

"More, daddy, please. More. Faster. There, just there. Faster. Oh, oh, oh daddy. Mmmmmm. Ohmygod. AAAAHHHHH!!

Emily's well deserved orgasm pulsed through her. Senses were lost as the wave of pure pleasure gushed through her. She shivered, shook, convulsed with a myriad ripples of muscle contactions ... then total relaxation.

No sooner than her orgasm had subsided, Emily turned her attentions to me. She defly, with her hands and the minimum of fuss, coaxed my fullness into a steely rod. Swiftly changing places, she presented herself, doggy-like, to have me, her daddy, inside her.