Teenage Insecurity

SUMMARY: This is a story about a teenage daughter who feels insecure about her body and questions her dad as to whether he thinks she is attractive. This leads to some physical contact from him as he shows her just how perfect her body is.

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

STORY:

"Daddy, do you think I'm attractive?" I asked, standing in front of my bedroom mirror, gazing at my own reflection. I was wearing a black two-piece bikini as I inspected my own body. The top piece cupped my breasts from the outside and bottom but left the middle swells exposed, emphasizing my cleavage. My breasts hung down, pressing against my chest and looking like two engorged teardrops. The bikini had one-inch circles at the top of each cup where the spaghetti straps connected and wrapped upward over my shoulders. My sides were narrow and widened just so at my waist, where my bikini bottoms wrapped around and hugged my crotch. The bottoms were exposed on the sides of my thighs with two dangling strings which I had tied into little bows. There was a lot of skin showing, including an ample display of my butt cheeks.

My dad was checking out my body but lifted his head when I turned toward him. "I think you're gorgeous," he said softly.

"That's not what I meant," I said, shaking my head. Then I added, "I mean, am I... attractive?" I felt extremely self-conscious about my body lately. It had been changing over the past year. A lot.

"Exceptionally," my daddy whispered, pulling my eyes toward him. He was staring at my chest.

Frowning, I glanced down at myself. Placing my hands just under my breasts, I lifted up on them and said softly, "But my boobs are so saggy and floppy." When I looked back up at him, he was staring directly at them. At my breasts. I shifted on my feet.

"I think your tits are perfect," my father said quietly, taking a step toward me.

I had heard my dad use the word "tits" before, but never when talking about mine. Frowning as I gave my head a slight shake, I let go of my breasts. They sagged back down and I sighed. Still staring at them, I muttered, "You're just saying that 'cuz I'm your daughter."

My dad took another step closer, and I shifted to my other foot again. He was still staring at my chest. At my boobs, actually. I had never seen him put so much attention on them so openly before. Of course, I was the one who was bluntly asking about them. And in all honesty, his scrutiny didn't bother me at all. I shifted back to my other foot as I stood before his gaze that seemed to pass right through my bikini.

"Show me," he said softly from just a few feet in front of me.

"What?" I asked, momentarily confused. Was he asking--

"Show them to me," he repeated, and I knew exactly what he meant.

Barely hesitating, I reached both hands up over my shoulders and took hold of the string tied above my shoulder blades. My daddy and I had always been close. He never made me feel uncomfortable. Even as he casually requested that I flash him, I didn't feel any embarrassment. I knew he would never do or say anything purposely to harm me.

As the straps fell forward, I felt my bikini top drop off the front side of my breasts. The material brushed my nipples on its way down, sending an involuntary shiver down into my belly as I stood before my father's permeating gaze. When my breasts came into view for him, his eyes widened a fraction and his nostrils flared slightly. If I hadn't been watching him so intently, I might not have noticed. I couldn't lie to myself, though. His reaction sparked a soft tingling in the pit of my stomach.

My dad took another step closer to me, stopping within arm's reach of my body. He was looking at my breasts with such intensity, I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my belly, emanating from the tingle that had started just moments before. Nobody had ever looked at my naked body the way he was right then. Not without clearly being aroused, ogling my breasts. But my daddy wouldn't be aroused by looking at me, would he? The expression I had glimpsed on my father's face flashed through my mind, but I immediately doubted myself. Had I really seen what I thought I saw? Had he inhaled quietly, making his nostrils flare? Didn't that mean--

"May I?" I heard my father ask, pulling me out of my thoughts. He held out his hands toward my chest. Toward my sagging tits.

It was my turn to have a reaction, although I did my best to school my features to calmness. My daddy wanted to touch my boobs? Well, what did it matter? It wasn't really any worse than showing them to him in the first place. It wasn't like we were strangers. My dad and I were extremely close and always had been. Still, I felt curious.

With a shrug, I said softly, "Whatever."

My father closed the distance to my body, immediately cupping his hands around the lower swells of my breasts. I almost gasped. His fingers gripped them firmly, yet with the subtle touch of experience. As he lifted them gently, I couldn't help but wonder at the fact that his hands felt both rough and soft at the same time. His grip felt nice. Warm. My chest tingled.

"See these creases here?" he spoke softly, tracing one finger up along the thin line where my breast rested against my chest. The tingle followed his finger as it slid upward and he was nodding toward my bosom. "Where your breasts rest against your skin here?" he was indicating the lower swells of my breasts. They looked like two little round melons hanging against my skin as he held them. They flattened out underneath where they seemed to sag against my body. I shifted back to my other foot, inhaling. When I nodded at him, staring down at myself and watching what he was doing, he whispered, "Those are extremely sexy, how they lay flat there."

Inhaling through my nose, I asked quietly, "Guys think that's sexy?"

"I do," he said, barely above a whisper. Was it just me, or did he sound slightly out of breath? "Your curves are in exactly the right places."

We stood there, father and daughter, and I shifted once more to my other foot. The fluttering in my stomach was becoming more pronounced. His gaze never left my chest. I became acutely aware of the fact that my nipples were beginning to harden. From the cool air in my bedroom, probably.

"You're still a teenager," he said gently. It was true. And truly my breasts had only begun to sag like that as they grew over the past year. Still groping my boobs, my father went on, "You have teenage tits. If they were up here--" he lifted my breasts higher and I watched as the teardrops became more rounded in the center of my chest. His hands felt extremely warm as he continued holding them up. The tingling rose slowly from my belly to my chest. Then he added, "Up like this, they would look fake." Letting his hands drop back down, my tits sagged once more. He still had his hands cupped around them. "When they hang down like this," he added, "they look more natural. Pert." I swallowed when he whispered, "Perfect."

I was watching his face as he continued to hold my breasts in his hands. His hands moved slightly, and then his palms were sliding up my skin until I felt them graze against my nipples. I couldn't help the gasp that sprang from my lips. The fluttering tingle in my belly and chest suddenly swirled down into my pussy. I couldn't believe it. The feeling was intense and came on so fast. Was my dad seriously fondling my breasts right now? And why wasn't I protesting? Or pulling away.

The answer was simple. It felt really good. No. It felt... amazing.

My father was still staring at my tits intensely while he held them. His hands felt extremely hot as he went on with his speech. Quietly, he asked, "And see how the tops and sides are rounded here, like melons?" I looked down at myself again and watched as his palms slid off my nipples to the sides of my breasts, then wrapped gently down toward the bottom swells again. The way his skin glided across them made me shiver. I couldn't make myself pull away. I didn't want to. The tingling between my legs intensified.

"And your stomach is narrower down here," my dad said as his hands slid off my boobs and onto my sides where he proceeded to run them down toward my stomach. His touch--almost a caress--left a tingling trail in its wake. It was hard to breathe. "But then your hips widen slightly here," he said as he ran his hands over my hips. I had to suppress a shudder.

His hands began to slide upward once more, back toward my torso, and it was suddenly very hot in my bedroom and it was even harder to breathe. A thought flitted through my head. This seemed wrong, somehow. And yet, he was being so casual about it all, there seemed to be nothing wrong with what we were doing. With what he was doing. My god his touch felt good on my body. When his hands reached where he had begun, I felt them slide onto my breasts once more, coming up over the rounded sides until I could feel the warmth of his skin against my nipples. His skin felt hotter than before.

My daddy squeezed my breasts and a thrilling pulse of pleasure erupted in my chest, trailing directly down to my crotch. My breath caught again as I sucked in sharply. Should I say something? My mind felt like it was spinning. Fuck, I didn't want him to stop.

He leaned closer to me, groping my breasts for a minute and I heard him inhale through his mouth. He whispered, "Christ, baby, these are erotically soft... like silk, but smoother." I could feel his warm breath on my cheek as he hovered above me, his fatherly hands fondling my teats. Then he brushed his thumbs across my nipples, and I couldn't hide the full body shudder that rippled through me. When I gazed up into his eyes, they looked like saucers as he stared at my tits. I could feel my nipples growing stiff beneath his caressing thumbs, my body filling with a smoldering heat like I had never known.

"How could anyone mistake these for anything--" he swallowed, and I realized his breathing sounded shallow. He took another step closer, his body mere inches from mine. Then he finished his thought, "How could anyone mistake these for anything but complete and utter perfection?" If it were anyone other than my own father, I would say he was staring at my breasts hungrily. But my dad was only trying to reassure me, right? He whispered, "If any guy thinks less of these beauties, he is surely gay."

Realization set in rapidly inside my head. Between my father's fondling, his lustful gaze at my bosom, the sparks of pleasure coursing through my body, and his convincing words that seemed to pierce my soul, I couldn't help but feel helplessly and heavily aroused. Silent, except for my father's labored breathing through his nose, my father continued gliding his thumbs slowly back and forth across the tips of my nipples, almost absently. I felt them swelling with blood, elongated beneath the pads of his caressing thumbs. My breath kept catching over and over and I couldn't quite keep up with the amount of oxygen my body needed to survive. My head was spinning, but the dizziness only fueled my arousal further.

Suddenly my father backed away, my boobs feeling a wave of cool air attack them at the sudden absence of his warm hands. Breathing somewhat raggedly, I stood frozen. He was no longer stimulating my nipples, but the damage was already done. My pussy was tingling like crazy, practically throbbing.

With my breath completely taken away, I looked up at him, slowly lifting my head until I was staring at his face. His eyes finally left my chest and met my own. What was that look? I had never seen it on my dad before. Jesus, he looked intense. And I knew he meant every word he had said. He genuinely thought I was attractive. The validation in his words swept through me, making my heart flutter. I had never had such a strong reaction to someone paying me a compliment or telling me I was pretty.

Beneath the layers of honest flattery, I realized something else. Something profound. Something so intense and so taboo, my heart actually seemed to have stopped beating as I stood frozen in time. The way he had been speaking to me had seemed incredibly... intimate. More intimate than a conversation between father and daughter should ever be. I should be put off by it, somehow, but my father's last words kept repeating over and over in my head, drowning out other thoughts. He had referred to my saggy breasts as "perfection." Never in a million years would I have called them that myself. But my father had.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, I tried to shake myself out of my thoughts by whispering, "Well, I guess that's good to hear." I could barely speak.

He shifted before me and then looked down his own body, taking a step back. My eyes followed his and I couldn't help but zero in on his crotch. When we were both staring at it, my father whispered, "See?"

Oh yes, I could see. My father's crotch was bulging. My pussy flared to life as a new wave of pleasure suddenly erupted within, pulsing in time with my rapid heartbeat. My legs felt wobbly so I shifted my stance to stay standing.

"You turned me on," he whispered, and I lifted my gaze slowly to his. He was staring at me with a fire behind his eyes. "So yeah," he continued, "you're attractive."

My heart started hammering. My father didn't just find me attractive. He was... he was attracted to me. The realization sent yet another surge of thrill into my pussy. I felt it soaking into my bikini bottoms. Unsure what to say, I stammered a little, "Yo-you got tur-turned on that fast?"

"Duh," he said, rolling his eyes playfully. Then he shrugged and-- as if it weren't one of the most profound things my father had ever said to me-- he said, "You're hella sexy."

"Jesus daddy," I whispered. I could hardly talk. "I'm so turned on right now," I heard myself say, barely audible. And I really was. Had I seriously just admitted that to my own father? But oh god was I ever turned on. My soaked bikini bottoms were evidence of that if nothing else.

"You are?" he asked, sounding hoarse.

Drawing in several shaky breaths, I shifted to my other foot again and then said softly, "Heavily."

"Sorry," my dad muttered, and I heard the floor creak as he took a step backwards.

I realized my eyes were closed and I forced them open, staring at him. Shaking my head slightly, I said, "It's ok, I think I'll just..." I trailed off as I swallowed. Then I glanced toward my bed and whispered, "I'll just take care of it after..."

My words trailed off and I couldn't bring myself to add anything else. The implications were obvious. When my daddy left my room, I was going to get myself off. I had never been so forward with him, so open. We had always been close, but this? This was a whole other level. The room seemed to fill with our silence. I could hear both of us breathing, though. He was clearly as aroused as I was. Jesus. Idly, I wondered if he would go wank one out in his own room after he left. I couldn't deny the fact that the thought sent a distinct thrill into my crotch.

My father broke the silence by asking softly, "Do you want me to... keep doing what I was doing? A little more?" his words got softer and softer and by the end, I could barely hear him. But I knew what he was offering.

Biting my lip, I glanced once more toward my bed, but then I nodded at him. God, the thought of him feeding my aroused body with more of that gentle massaging? No guy had ever gotten me so turned on so thoroughly, and so fast.

"Yeah, I kinda do," I heard myself say weakly. A voice somewhere in the back of my mind was telling me to just send him away, that this was inappropriate, but I ignored it.

When he took a step toward me, extending his arms in front of himself, I held up a hand and he halted. Good lord it was hard to breathe. Catching my breath briefly, I took a step toward my bed as I whispered, "In my bed, though." I don't even know why I said it. Wait a minute. Yeah, I did. Because I knew I couldn't keep standing while those magic hands caressed my nipples. Plus, secretly, I thought maybe I could manage a way to slide a hand between my legs without him noticing. Just the thought of pleasuring myself while my daddy rubbed my breasts sent a thrill of excitement into my pussy.

"Oh," he said.

Shrugging, I looked back at him and tried to make it sound like no big deal as I said, "You know, so I can get comfortable and stuff. And then as soon as you're done, I can... you know. Take care of it." I couldn't believe the words that were being uttered from my very own lips, to my very own father. And beneath it all, I knew I was hiding my true motives of wanting to try to get myself off in the middle of his molestation of my tits.

My father nodded slowly, and I couldn't help but notice his bulge again, straining against the denim of his jeans. It looked uncomfortable. As I stared, it twitched just as my legs bumped into something soft and I felt myself falling backward, onto my bed. Stifling a cry, I caught my fall with my elbows, propping myself up with my legs dangling over the edge. When I looked up, my dad's eyes were glazed as he stared at me. All of me. From head to toe, his eyes seemed to caress me. When he paused while staring between my legs, I followed his gaze down and almost gasped when I saw the dark circle of wet surrounding my crotch.

In two rapid strides, my father stood directly between my legs, leaning over. He didn't hesitate to reach out and take both of my tits into his warm, groping hands once more. I swallowed back a moan and closed my eyes while he fondled me. Then I heard him mutter softly, "Like I said, completely perfect."

My head lolled from side to side, eyes closed, while I let the pleasure wash over me. My father's hands kneaded at the flesh of my breasts, almost delicately. His thumbs slid across my nipples every few seconds, making my body shiver. After just a few minutes of his silent massage, my body was more turned on than I could ever remember experiencing. My pussy throbbed, pulsing with pleasure. I swear I could feel juice pouring out of me, soaking my bikini bottoms. Slowly, I tried to snake my hand down between my legs surreptitiously.

My father cleared his throat and then, abruptly, his hands lifted from my chest and the tingling in my body, while still strong and pulsing, started to recede. I realized I was breathing heavily. My hand froze just above my crotch, inches away from my vagina. When I opened my eyes and looked up at him, he had taken a step back and his body was shivering.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Had he noticed me reaching toward my pussy? I frowned in concern, but I felt frustrated. Extremely frustrated. Jesus my crotch was itching for release.

"No-nothing baby," he said. "I just think... I... I need to--" He glanced toward my door and then back to me before finishing. He lowered his voice and said, "I need to go take care of myself, too."

"Oh," I said, blinking. Slowly, my eyes drifted down my dad's body until I was staring at his crotch again. His very bulging crotch. I wondered briefly if it hurt being so hard like that. Biting my lip, I said without lifting my head, "Do you want to just... do it with me?"

My daddy coughed, pulling my attention up to his face. His cheeks were red as he stammered, "D-do what?"

I held my breath. What was I even suggesting? But I barreled forward anyway with the inappropriate concept that floated in my head. Shrugging as if it were the most normal occurrence in the world between a father and a daughter, I said casually, "Get off with me."

"Oh," he said. He looked like someone had just punched him in the face. Then he scrunched his features and asked, "Like, masturbate?" I bit my lip but didn't say anything until he whispered, "Uhh, right here?"