Date: Sat, 22 Apr 2017 06:22:54 +0000 (UTC) From: Tony Williams Subject: The Thrill of Being Naked The Thrill of Being Naked by Tony Williams Although this is a work of fiction, it is not my story. It's based on an account sent to me by one of my readers who wants his story to be told while he can remain anonymous. His name is Andrew and his daughter is Phoebe. I am publishing it with his approval, proud to help a man who is not so different from me, but who has been badly served by law enforcement and society. I've always LOVED being naked! I was standing in front of the mirrored closet doors in my bedroom, looking at myself. I slid my white briefs down my thighs, let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them. No matter how many times I saw myself unclothed I never failed to feel a thrill. I liked to imagine that there were people out there, people who lived on the other side of the mirror who watched me, seeing me as I undressed, and admired me, looking at me as I played with my little cock, watching me as I sat on the end of my bed wanking, staring at me as I came all over my tummy, smiling as I rubbed it in so that it dried quicker. I imagined them cheering as my underpants fell to the floor, clapping and cheering as I wanked my dick, their cheers reaching a climax as I came, often on to the mirror itself, so I'd have to wipe my cum off it with my underpants. I was twelve years old. My cock was more than half hard and I watched as it's two inches slowly grew to three and it's angle of dangle changed from droop to horizontal and then up to forty five degrees. Now, fully hard, I took it between two fingers and thumb and began to stroke it slowly, my hips thrust forward lewdly. Gone were the days when, just a year ago, I first started wanking, pumping my cock furiously until I squirted my tiny drops of semen; now I was a more sophisticated wanker, taking my sweet time, often bringing myself to the edge of orgasm, then stopping, letting myself cool down and beginning again. Years later I discovered that this was a common practice, called "edging". My bedroom door opened. I wasn't worried. Mum never came into my room and I didn't care about Dad seeing me naked. He loved looking at my nude body just as much as I did. He stepped into the room leaving the door open. He too was naked, his cock hanging down, his hairy balls swinging. "Just as I thought," he said, grinning as he ran his eyes up and down my body. "I guessed you'd be having a wank about now. Don't worry, your Mum's out shopping. Don't stop, I'm just gonna get my camera." He was back in a jiffy and stood behind me, framing my body (with my beautiful arse) and my reflection in the mirror and took the picture, as I continued stroking my cock. "That's gonna look fucking awesome. Jesus, Andrew, how did you get to be so fucking sexy?" "I think I got it from my father," I said, smugly. "Well, I'll leave you to it," he said, patting me on the bum and turning to leave. I wondered if he wanted to take hold of my cock and give me a helping hand, as so many boys and men were eager to do, but he never tried to, even though I'd have welcomed his touch. Looking back, I imagine he was inhibited by the incest taboo, but if he was, it didn't extend to his obvious desire when he looked at my naked body, and it didn't bother him a bit when he had the opportunity to show me off to friends and strangers alike, mostly men, but occasionally women. He'd invite friends over and arrange for me to walk downstairs after my bath, wrapped in a towel and have it "accidentally" fall to the floor. He'd say, "Look at my son. Isn't he handsome?" I'd bask in their admiration and sprawl on the couch. legs carlessly spread as the menfolk tried not to drool. Their excitement fed his, the more they stared at me the happier he was. This was particularly evident when he'd take me and my reluctant mother to the naturist resort on the Mediterranean coast of France for a full month every summer. Mum tolerated it but her enthusiasm was tepid compared with my Dad's excitement, being around all those naked people, many of them young couples, a few single men and lots of kids, ranging from toddlers to preteens and teenaged post pubescents. I absolutely loved it, being allowed to hang out naked all day, looking at all those unclothed bodies, and being looked at. I liked the younger men and teenaged boys but the women - not so much. For some reason I was also drawn to young flat chested girls who hadn't reached puberty, perhaps because of their total lack of inhibitions and their careless innocence. They were unaware that their little bodies were sexy in their own unique way. Best of all, I loved showing myself off to anyone who cared to look. My tiny cock would start to get hard, though it never achieved flull erection, so it would still hang down, but look about fifty percent bigger than when flaccid, so I just seemed like a little boy with a normal cock. A few times I found myself alone in the sand dunes with another boy or man, and he'd fondle my cock, or more often I'd instigate the proceedings by groping for his, and we'd wank each other. My partner would usually cum first, perhaps because I was so sexy, and then I'd finish myself off at my leisure. Later, I'd tell Dad all about it, to his intense delight. So, on the day in question, standing in front of the mirror, now fully aroused, I fell back on the bed and lifted my legs up above my chest, so that my imaginary audience beyond the mirror could see my little brown rosebud. "Look, everyone," I said to the hushed crowd, "Can you see my arse hole? Perhaps you'd lick it for me, I'd like that. Wouldn't you like to put your finger in it? Are you all perverts who'd like to fuck a little boy? Take a number and form a line." The applause was deafening. A few strokes later and I shot my load on to my chest. Some even landed on my face. Dad would've like to have seen that. Maybe he'd buy a movie camera and make dirty films of me for his friends. _______________________________________________________________ I was almost asleep when the bedroom door quietly opened. I closed my eyes and let out a little fake snore. Dad came in and I felt him sit on the edge of the bed. He carefully pulled the sheet down to my knees to expose my naked body. I never slept in pajamas. I lay there, letting him look at me, feeling my excitement building. After half a minute or so, he murmured, "I can tell you're awake, Andrew, your cock's getting hard." I opened my eyes and laughed. I could see his cock was already fully erect. "I was simply enjoying being looked at, Dad." "That's why I love you so much, Son. Tell me, how was school today?" I sat up and leaned back against the headboard. "It was awesome! I was in the basement boiler room with Johnny Watson and we were wanking each other off. There's nothing down there except this big old cast iron boiler and a heap of coal and no one ever goes in there. We had our trousers round our ankles and our underpants round our knees and it was just getting really thrilling when the fucking janitor came in. Johnny freaked out and yanked his underpants and trousers up and bolted out, but I just stood there, my hands laced behind my head with my hips thrust out like an invitation. He tood there for a moment looking at me and I could see his eyes were alight with lust, then he stepped up to me. 'Wanna helping hand, Kid?' I just nodded and let him take hold of my cock and carry on where Johhny had left off. I asked him if he liked young boys. 'You fuckin' bet. All you sexy fuckin' twelve year olds with nice little cocks like yours, drive me fuckin' crazy.' To find out if his cock was as hard as mine, I reached down and groped him. It was like an iron bar in his pants, so I gave it a couple of friendly sqeezes and suddenly he groaned. 'Fuck! Shit! You made me cum in my pants, you fuckin' little tease!' He turned and abruptly left. I took my time finishing myself off. I was thrilled by the fact that yet another adult male had enjoyed looking at my body and the feel of my cock. I came and shot a fucking huge load on to the floor, pulled my clothes up and left, feeling very satisfied with myself." "Bravo, Andrew, you sexy little slut." I loved it when he called me a slut. For me it was a badge of honour. "Are you gonna have a wank now?" "I already did, an hour ago. I don't wanna overdo it." "My record was five in a day," he said. "Goodnight, Son. I'm glad you had a good time." He left, closing the door behind him. I was still naked from the knees up. I lay there, letting God and the angels look down on me, appreciating my beauty. ________________________________________________________________ My dad, came into the bathroom one Saturday morning when Mum was out shopping. I was sitting on the toilet. He was naked, of course. Usually, I closed the door when I was taking a crap because (a) crapping is the one thing that is really private and (b) I wanted the odour to dissipate before anyone might come in. Today the fart fan seemed to be working well because Dad didn't wrinkle his nose or anything. I stood and stepped directly into the shower, turned the water on, took the hand-held shower head, switched it to "jet" and aimed it up my arse. Dad looked on, amused. "So you don't use toilet paper?" he commented. "Of course not. This is much better than wiping my arse because it's cleaner, more hygenic and . . . watch, I'll show you." I rubbed soap on my rosebud, then pushed my middle finger in as far as it'd go, then thrust it in and out, finger fucking myself. " I never get skid marks on my underpants and best of all, it feels good." "Like a dick, I imagine." I knew my father had encounters with gay men though he never confided the details to me. "I dunno, Dad, I've never been fucked." ". . . yet," he said with a grin. He watched as I lathered my hair, then washed my face, my arms, my torso and my legs, saving the best for last. My cock was now quite hard as the result of his gaze, and I washed it slowly and at length, seeing his own cock grow stiff as he looked at me. When I stepped out of the shower, he stood beside me in front of the mirror, his arm round my shoulder. "Look at us, Andrew. Two sexy guys with nice big stiff dicks. Isn't this a beautiful sight?" Then he turned to looked at me and said, "I've just had a terrific idea. Why don't we dress you up as a girl? With your long curly hair and your pretty face, you wouln't need any make up. We could see if we could fool those friends of mine who are into little girls. You could let them look up your dress and see your knickers." I was immediately excited by the idea of being a girl. "Oh my God, Dad. That'd be awesome! I could do strip teases and stuff." "We'll go shopping later today and buy some dresses, knickers and white ankle socks. A school uniform would look amazing. Little Andrew, dressed as a girl. Oh, my! We'd have to give you a girl's name though." "Angela," I said, emphatically. "Daddy's little daughter Angela, twelve years old and still before her first period. Oh, how fucking delicious!" "We could tell your Mum it's for a school play." I attended an all boys' private school, so having a boy play a girl was perfectly normal. ________________________________________________________________ After our shopping trip, we laid my new clothes out on my bed and I stripped off, my cock already hard in anticipation of being a girl. As Dad watched intently, I pulled on a pair of full cut white cotton knickers, the kind you can buy at Marks & Spencer's, three to a pack, perfectly ordinary, but still very feminine and sexy. Then I donned a white blouse and a short tartan skirt, and sat on the end of the bed to put on white ankle socks as Dad took a good look up my skirt. I stood in front of the mirror and yes, I was a girl, a prepubescent child with no tits and narrow hips. I looked fucking gorgeous and when I lifted the front of my skirt to show off my knickers, Dad gasped. He hadn't forgotten to bring his camera, and so he took a picture. I tried on a few more dresses, all dangerously short. I turned my back to the mirror and bent down, looking between my legs and my knickers were showing. I knew I was gonna have a lot of fun. Later, Mum commented how pretty I looked and how the school play was gonna be a success with me starring in it. Little did she know there was no play. In the following days, whenever Mum was out, Dad would invite several male friends over and introduce me as his niece, Angela. I don't know if any of them were fooled, but they pretended to see me as a girl, remarking how pretty I was and how lovely I looked in my "school uniform" and dresses. Dad would command me to undress for them, which I eagerly did, anticipating the moment when I'd slide my knickers down and reveal my cock, singing, "Da-dah!" and joining in the laughter. Growing bolder, Dad and I would go out to the food court at the local Mall and I'd sit, legs invitingly splayed, letting guys stare up my dress as I smiled back at them. After all, I was just a little girl sitting carelessly and there was nothing wrong with that, was there? Wearing knickers was a delight. It's surprising how comfortable they were. I wear them to this day (in a much larger size), and sleep in them. It's so easy to slide my cock out of the leg and wank. I didn't wear them to school, knowing that my school friends wouldn't really understand and I'd be ridiculed, so on school days I wore ordinary Y fronts. The best part of my school week was P.E., or gym as we called it. It involved getting changed into sports gear, allowing me a nice opportunity to show myself off, standing in the middle of the changing room and slowly stripping as the other boys looked on. Afterwards we'd line up naked to use the showers. There were only ten shower heads for twenty five or so boys, and no partitions, just an open tiled room. I was always last in line, to give myself maximum nude exposure and to be able to see the naked body of every boy in the class, but also because the gym teacher, a tall muscular guy in his early twenties, showered after we were finished. I'd linger, taking my sweet time, washing my hair just to delay my departure, and as the last boys were leaving he'd take off his track suit. Under it he wore Y fronts too, and he'd pause, letting me look at him, then he'd slide them down revealing his rather small cock. I've never been a size queen. He'd then step under the shower next to mine and wash his body all over, leaving his cock until last, by which time I'd be rock hard and he'd be well on the way. One day, I just couldn't help myself, and started to wank as he lathered his equipment. "You have a beautiful cock, even though it's pretty small," he intimated, and reached across and took hold of it. "But I happen to like small cocks. Yours would fit painlessly up my bum or in my mouth." Naturally, the only polite thing to do was to take hold of his. He stepped close and put an arm round me. I was thrilled beyond measure. I'd wanted to touch his dick for months and now it was in my hand. It was clear he was incredibly aroused, as he groaned and gasped as I wanked him, and in less than half a minute, he came, firing huge blobs of creamy cum on to my chest and stomach, and several more right on to my cock. He stepped back, his lust turning instantly into shame, turned his back on me, rinsed off, got dressed and left. Instead of rinsing myself, I rubbed his cum all over my body, reveling in the lewdness of it all, then wanked myself to climax. I dressed, his cum drying on my skin, and went home. It had been altogether a very exciting encounter but he never tried anything with me again, perhaps from fear of being found out, and I never told anyone except my dad, who loved the story. He made me undress and sniffed me all over. "I love the smell of cum," he said. _______________________________________________________________ The years went by. We'd always spend a month during the summer hols to go to our resort in France to show ourselves off in all our naked glory. At school I developed a reputation as a cock happy slut who'd wank off just about anyone, an exhibitionist who never missed an opportunity to show his body to those who cared to look. I was a diligent student who passed a bunch of A levels and was eventually admitted to university. For the first time I found myself regularly in the company of girls. I was socially awkward around them, preferring male company, but one evening I was at a party, half drunk, when I was accosted by a girl who, I later learned, had just been dumped by her boyfriend, and she was all over me, groping my basket and kissing me. She dragged me upstairs to a bedroom and I went along with it because I thought I'd have a chance to take my clothes off and display myself to a female, a rare experience for me. I never stood a chance. Ripping her knickers off, she pulled my cock out of my fly, pushed me on to my back on the bed and straddled me. My cock had become hard in anticipation of showing off my body, and she just impaled her self on it. I didn't fuck her - she fucked me. The rest of the evening was a blur. Six weeks later, she announced that she was pregnant, that her father wouldn't under any circumstances allow an abortion or adoption. She was going to have the baby and to preserve the family's honour she was going to get married to me, right away, no delay, and the baby would be born "prematurely". I protested but her father threatened me with being sent down and some other unacceptable fates, so I went along with it and lo, I became a married man. As marriages go, it was pretty dismal, except for the one dazzling ray of sunshine, my baby girl, born eight months later, healthy and fucking adorable. I fell in love with her instantly. The first time I changed her nappy, I bathed her in the kitchen sink and laid her on her back on a towel on the table. She waved her little arms and legs, happily. I bent down and placed a loving kiss on her darling little pee pee and she gurgled with delight. I didn't get to kiss her cunt again for many years. We named her Phoebe. ______________________________________________________________ After I graduated, I was employed by an investment bank in the City and worked long hours. I wanted to climb the corporate ladder to become financially secure so I could provide a safe environment for my daughter to grow up in, but the job made excessive demands on my time so I never got to see Phoebe except on weekends. Nevertheless I began to instill in her my love of nudity and she was very happy to run round the house with nothing on, even when we had guests, but I was swimming upstream against the prudishness of my wife, who believed in "decency", "propriety" and being "lady like". There were odd occasions, her bridge night for example, when she was out and I'd have my more liberal friends, all men, come over and Phoebe and I would arrange to do that towel trick that I'd done as a boy. She'd make an entrance, coming slowly down the stairs and at some point the towel would "accidentally" fall, to the delight of everyone, especially me. They'd ooh and aah and tell her how pretty she was, and she and I would bask in their praise. Alas, those occasions were few and far between. One night when Phoebe was eight, she said to me as I was tucking her in bed, "Daddy, why do I never see you except on the weekends?" I explained about the demands my job made on me, but deep down I realised that I wasn't happy. I'd had several promotions and end of year bonuses and had saved a nice chunk of change which accumulated in an investment account and threw off a nice income, so I decided to quit my job and devote my time to my beloved Phoebe. At about the same time, my wife declared that she was leaving us. Unbeknownst to me, she'd been seeing a woman on the side, a butch lesbian who ran the local dog grooming service. I've nothing against lesbians, indeed I find the idea of two women arousing and satifying each other to be a turn on. I could hardly complain, as I'd been having lots of one night stands with guys I picked up on the internet, and in a way, it came as something of a relief. Our sex life had deteriorated to one fuck a month when she was ovulating and felt horny, which would last all of two minutes. I gave her half my assets and a monthly allowance and she let me have custody of Phoebe as long as she could visit now and again. I sold the house and bought a small cottage with a large garden in a dormitory town just to the West of London. I had a swimming pool installed, at great expense, but it was going to be worth it. Phoebe and I, and my more intimate friends were going to be skinny dipping in it. The fact that my neighbours either side of me and four or five houses at the back overlooked the pool was an added thrill. And so I now had Phoebe to myself. The old rules my wife had enforced were now out the window. We could stay naked all day long. We could leave the bathroom door open. We could use the "F" and "C" words. Best of all, Phoebe would come to bed with me and I'd hold her naked body in my arms until she dropped off, then I'd carry her sleeping body to her room, lay her on her bed, gently kiss her darling little cunt and leave. One day, when she came home from school, dressed in her uniform with her cute little white ankle socks, I was in the bathroom, peeing. "I gotta pee NOW, Daddy," she said, so I shut off my flow and she stood with her back to the toilet. "Don't take your knickers off," I said, hurriedly, "just stand over the bowl and pee through them." "Why?" "Because it's naughty and you know I like it when you're naughty." She giggled, lifted her skirt, straddled the bowl and peed. The front of her white cotton knickers grew saturated and her pee fell into the bowl with a delicious tinkling sound. I put my hand against her crotch and felt the hot pee as it splashed her thighs. Afterwards, I undressed her and got in the shower with her, washing her all over, my soapy hand lingering between her legs. She smiled up at me adoringly. "Get me nice and clean, Daddy," she said, then, to my astonishment she added, "You have to let my wash your cock. After all, you washed my cunt, so it's only fair." I should have refused because things were getting out of hand, but I was unable to resist her. The fact that my cock was rock hard was nothing strange to her. I was hard a lot of the time and she considered it completely normal, but she was surprised when, after lovingly washing it at some length, it suddenly spurted semen on to her body. "So that's cum," she observed. "I've ben reading about it on the internet." She looked up at me and smiled. "Did that feel good, Daddy?" I assured her it was the most thrilling thing I'd ever enjoyed, but peeing through her knickers had been naughty and I'd have to spank her. Ideally, I'd have liked to have put her across my knee, lift her dress, take her knickers down and spank away, but she was already naked, so I took her into my bedroom and had her get down on all fours on the bed, her upper body lowered and her bum in the air. I knelt beside her and ran my hand over her bum and down the backs of her thighs, my fingers lingering briefly at her sweet little cunt. I did this several times, then spanked her gently, six times, as she made fake "Ow!" noises. Then I caressed her bum again and kissed it better. After that, she looked for opportunities to be "naughty" as often as possible. Phoebe was arousing in me that attraction to prepubescent girls that I'd first experienced during our early visits to the naturist resort, and I was downloading pictures of darling little lolitas in their undies or less, from the internet until I'd built up quite a collection. Phoebe would be sitting naked on my lap as I searched, saying, "Ooh, she's pretty. Download her, Daddy." She'd get particularly excited when we'd stumble on naked little girls. "Ooh, you can see her cunt!" she'd gush. "It's not as pretty as your cunt," I'd say, and she'd spread her legs and look down at herself as I looked over her shoulder. Not only was I downloading pictures of little girls from the web, I was assembling quite a collection of my own work. The digital camera had just been invented, doing away with those annoying polaroids that were expensive and never had good definition. Now I could shoot literally hundreds, and select just those few that filled my criteria. Phoebe was fully cooperative, to say the least. She'd let me shoot her when she came home from school, sexily removing her uniform in delicious strip teases. She'd pose naked in very inventive positions, not merely lying spreadeagled on my bed, but everywhere, on the kitchen counter, feet up under her bum, knees spread wide for example, halfway up the stairs, out in the garden (with God knows who spying on us), peeing in the toilet, squatting on the floor, even hanging upsidedown from the landing banister rail. She'd pull her cunt lips apart for close-ups and in every picture she wore her dazzling smile of invitation. "I want you to look at me!" she seemed to say. "Isn't my cunt sexy?" Many nights, after she was asleep, I'd turn on my laptop and scroll through the special file devoted to her, and stroke my cock until my orgasm exploded like an artillery shell, spraying cum all over my body. _______________________________________________________________ One Saturday afternoon, my Dad, a friend of mine, Phoebe and I were skinny dipping in the pool. Phoebe was in heaven, showing herself off carelessly, lying on a chaise lounge with her legs invitingly spread, then climbing the big oak tree and squatting on a low branch, her cunt in full view, later doing cartwheels and a particularly inviting hand stand with her legs splayed out at three and nine o'clock, as we all gazed at her, transfixed. I was taking lots of pictures. Suddenly she said, "I need to pee, Daddy." Everyone perked up. "Pee in the pool, Sweetie," I said, not guessing what was going to happen. "Okay," she said, then walked along the diving board to the very end, put her hands on her bum, pushed her hips forward, and let a long stream of pee arc out into the pool. My friends and I let out a cheer, and she smiled, grateful for the attention. I caught it on camera "Jesus!" my friend whispered to me, "that was so fucking sexy. I'm jealous, Andrew." I, on the other hand, was thrilled at her performance. My cock was rigid and it didn't go unnoticed. "Now you know how I felt about you when you were a young boy, Andrew," said my dad, his own cock as hard as mine, "and you would act just as outrageously." _______________________________________________________________ One memorable night, when Phoebe was nine and we'd just showered, I wrapped her in a fluffly bath towel and dried her, then I picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other under her back and carried he into my bedroom. I laid her on my bed and lay down beside her. She rolled on to her side and laid her head on my tummy, just inches from my hard cock. She gazed at it, enthralled, though she'd seen it countless times before. "Your cock is awesome, Daddy. I think I'm falling in love with it." "It's in love with you, my darling, that's why it's always standing to attention." She took it in her hand and began to slowly stroke it. I reached for the camera which was on the bedside table and took several pictures. She turned her head and looked at me, a mischievous grin on her face. "I've always wanted to do this," she whispered, then turned her head back again and took the tip of my cock in her mouth. I thought my heart was going to burst. She couldn't get more than about three inches of it into her mouth, but her tongue did incredible things to my glans, pushing under my foreskin and swirling it round. It was driving me fucking crazy, but I had presence of mind enough to take pictures. She lifted her head and looked at me again, her eyes filled with adoration. "I want you to cum in my mouth," she said and took my cock back between her lips. Those words sent me over the top and I fired my load, five, six, seven pulses of semen into her waiting mouth. Her hand milked me dry and she lifted her head again, a long string of cum connecting her lips to the head of my cock. Once more she looked right into my eyes and swallowed, then licked her lips. "Oh, Daddy," she laughed, "that was the biggest load of cum ever. It was delicous!" Thereafter, I took hundreds of pictures of her wanking me off, sucking me, letting me cum on her face, her tits, her tummy and her cunt. She seemed to love being bathed in cum. One evening, while I was lying on my bed letting her wank me off, my Dad, who was visiting us, walked in without knocking. None of us ever knocked, as we had nothing to hide. "Bravo, Phoebe!" he called, his face lighting up. "You woudn't care to give your grandad a wank, would you?" She looked at me and I nodded. My Dad lay down in my place and I scrambled to get my camera and stood beside the bed taking scores of pictures as she skillfully masturbated him. My heart was pounding with excitement as I watched her bring him close to orgasm and then went down on him, giving him one of her world class blow jobs. She lifted her head just in time to get her face splattered with Dad's cum, a powerful spurt for a man of his age. She let out her delighted laugh, crowing with triumph. "Ooh, I made grandpa cum, Daddy!" she announced, proudly. "Good girl," I said, encouragingly. "She's a fucking good cocksucker, Andrew," my dad said. "You've taught her well." ______________________________________________________________ I'd never forgotten the thrill I'd enjoyed as a young boy when my Dad dressed me up as a girl. Alas, as I entered my teens, my angelic face matured into that of a handsome young man, with a firm square jaw and an Adam's apple. I was tall with broad shoulders, and when I dressed as a girl, it looked all wrong. No way could I pass as a female. I restricted myself to dressing up at home and looking at myself in the mirror, wearing stockings and a suspender belt. I continued to wear my M & S white cotton knickers on a daily basis, though, and wear them to this day. I did manage to hook up with a group of drag queens on the internet and exchanged pictures and was invited to several soirees, where we paraded round in our dresses and stripped off for each other and it was fun, but nothing like my earlier escapades when people looked at me and saw a little girl. When I'd got married, I'd put my cross dressing on hold, though I'd continued to wear knickers, to my wife's amusement. After the divorce, I took to wearing slips and teddies round the house, with see-through knickers or tap pants and a camisole, but my hairy chest made me look slightly ridiculous. Phoebe didn't care what I wore, so long as she could run around naked. She was now ten and puberty was just over the horizon. I wondered how I'd feel about her when her titties grew and pubic hair graced her cunt. More importantly, how would she feel about me, her exhibitionist father, forever swanning about with his cock on display? Eventually, things would change, but how, I didn't know. ______________________________________________________________ Then disaster struck. It came out of the blue like a bolt of lightning. One afternoon, before Phoebe came home from school, there was a knock on the door. I opened it and peered round it, being naked at the time. Two police officers stood on the doorstep. One of them asked for my name and I gave it. "We have a warrant for your arrest on charges of posession of child pornography, and we have a warrant to search the premises." They pushed their way in. "Get some clothes on," the other officer snarled. I was handcuffed and seated in the back of the police car while they looked for my laptop, which was all they needed and just as they came out of the house, Phoebe came home. When she saw me, she started crying. "Call Grandpa," I managed to call to her as I was driven off. I hired a lawyer who told me that my case was undefendable, to plead guilty and throw myself on the mercy of the court. Although I pointed out to the judge that my crime had no victims and in every picture Phoebe was smiling happily and that everything that occurred was consentual, he was unmerciful and I was sent to Wormwood Scrubs for a long stretch. _______________________________________________________________ Who leaked my secrets, I never found out. Maybe one of my friends left his computer unguarded with my pictures on it. I'd emailed tons of pictures of Phoebe to my friends, shots of her wanking me off and sucking my cock and posing in lewd and definitely illegal ways. Maybe the authorities had intercepted the emails. And then there was all the child porn I'd downloaded from the internet. I'd been incredibly naive. Everything was on my computer, not even protected by a password and I'd not backed anything up, so my pictures were all lost to me, though I imagined dozens of police officers and prosecutors are poring over them to this day, their cocks hardening, licking their lips and perhaps downloading them for their own use. It gives me no pleasure at all. _______________________________________________________________ My ex, who took custody of Phoebe, wouldn't allow her to visit me and I spent my lonely nights in my cell, weeping for her, wondering what she thought of me. Life was intolerable, except for some occasions when, naked in the shower with other naked cons, I'd show off my body and my hard little cock. I was reminded of the shower room at my school and all the fun I'd had there. I'd allow selected inmates to fuck me up the arse or fuck my face. I'd loose myself momentarily in a brief wave of gay lust, enjoying the humilitation, but then it'd be over and my despair would return. I served my time and was released. My daughter and I met in a coffee bar in Kennsington. We hugged with that phoney upper body contact that means nothing and she air kissed my cheek. She was now a grown woman, at university, and I barely recognised her. There was none of that magic allure, that delicious innocence and vulnerability she possessed as a child. She said she was happy and apologised for not visiting me. She seemed to resent the fact that I'd "abandoned" her, leaving her to survive her teen years without a Dad, though she did admit that it hadn't been my fault. "Though I will say this, Dad, until they took you away, you were a wonderful father and I did love you very much." I felt like my heart was breaking. _______________________________________________________________ Oscar Wilde was jailed in the nineteenth century for being a homosexual. Alan Turing was chemically castrated for the same offense, resulting in his suicide with an immeasurable loss to science. But today being gay is legal, perfectly acceptable, even chic, and the marriage of gay couples is celebrated on the evening news, accompanied by cheering crowds. What had been an unspeakable crime, arousing disgust and generating ridicule, contempt and harsh punishment has become the norm. So I dream of a golden age in the future, when paedophilia, the love of childen, becomes accepted in the same way, a time when the age of consent is lowered to something less preposterous and patting a child on the bum isn't frowned upon. Naturally, there are outliers, psychopaths whose urges result in despicable crimes, and kids need to be protected from them, but one day, I pray, people like me will be an accepted part of the community, loving kids, caring for them, teaching them the joys of sex in a responsible way and just simply trying to make them happy. But don't hold your fucking breath. The end. Email my at tonywill9999@yahoo.com. I will respond.