The 40 Hour Nude Famine (a
series for lovers of 18yo daughters and schoolgirls): Book 3
Copyright 2017 Lisa Smiles
characters involved in sex, or who are witness to sex, are 18 or over
at time of depiction
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As my daughter
reaches for the clasp at the front of her bra I remember: Claire
Duncan’s bra was like this. During the year we were together
Claire progressed to using heavier pads and she grew into a C-cup
from the A or B-cups that I first saw. She was eighteen but still
filling out after what she told me had been a late start. I used to
imagine I could sense hormones under her skin like electrons,
activating hair cells in her groin for example, until by the age of
nineteen when she moved interstate with her parents: by that stage
the whole show was probably over. She had become the woman only her
genes could foresee. That’s Molly as well. She is something in
a state of becoming.
Lined up like this,
beside other girls, I can see her as I can’t do at home. Emmy
and the two Harriets could be passed off as women in their early
twenties. If I didn’t know Olivia and Charlotte I would
probably guess right that they were eighteen, give or take a few
years, depending on how they were behaving. Our dear Molly though,
will be a woman-child into her forties, like those models still being
paid for coy poses two decades in to lifelong careers. Her mother and
I have spoken of listing her with an agency, but unfortunately, we
know she’s too stubborn.
nearly ten o’clock,” I remind her. “Let’s
face the music, so we can get everyone naked for start time.”
breasts are revealed, an uncomfortable silence falls across the whole
Molly says, “They’re
the smallest out of everyone’s, I know that.”
not why we’ve gone quiet,” I tell her. I would refute her
claim that they are the smallest as well. If they look that way it is
only because they’re not hanging.
I can trust Emmy to
help out with true words. “They’re not too small. They’re
Molly drops her chin to
her chest to inspect while Olivia, the beautician’s daughter,
takes an elastic that Molly has been twirling and uses it to tie back
“How are they
pretty?” Molly asks.
“I think they are
what a lot of men like,” Olivia tells her, though like most
girls her look says she can’t figure out why.
Harriet with the big
nose says, “Japanese guys would go crazy. She’s an anime
Harriet Hotlips informs
us, “I’ve got a doll from when I was kid that looks
exactly like her.”
I have to interrupt.
“That’s enough girls. Remember Molly is new here and
probably more than a little embarrassed to learn she has come to us
from certain men’s wet dreams.”
Right now I’m
getting one of those Daddy I hate you death stares from hell.
What can I do though? The second I saw them I nearly came in my
pants. They’re like moguls of snow when you first see them from
the chairlift at dawn and have just the faintest staining of skin
tone as peaks. I wish my eyes wouldn’t wander but her narrow
waist is a magnet and below that her hip bones. She has the most
pronounced tummy of any girl here but is the skinniest of all for her
height. I may just be having a crisis.
I’ve got all of
them naked. Not a stitch of clothes on them. Red headed Harriet’s
tits are snow white but material, not half lodged in the dream world
like Molly’s. Emmy could make fortunes as a pin-up girl, but I
think we all knew that already. What I didn’t know is I would
be having this reaction to Molly. Yes, I’ve been angling to get
her in bed or the bath tub. When you lose your compunctions through
sexual contact with daughter-one, of course you’re ready to try
things with daughter-two, but you’re still seeing daughters as
people to fuck because they are handy. Regina has been available to
me and very obliging, but I haven’t been heartbroken by her
decision to travel. I’m sitting at my desk at the front of the
class, looking down the center aisle at a girl, my own daughter, who
is doing to me exactly what Claire did when she too unfastened her
bra for me two years ago.
Harriet with the red
hair and a face like Picasso’s Girl Before a Mirror
informs me, “Mr. Clark, it’s one minute to ten.”
sign your papers if you’re not naked in time,” Emmy tells
Now is not a
good time to have to undress. I’ve got miss tan lines Charlotte
in the front row with her middle finger in her vagina. She’s
not masturbating. I see girls doing this every year during the
forty-hour nude famine. Without underpants on to remind them they
forget they’re not home alone in their bedrooms and often put
their fingers down there and then sniff them. It’s not
necessarily any more sexual than when they suck their own hair, but
sometimes just the end of a pony tail in a girl’s mouth is
enough to me an erection while working. When they gouge themselves,
especially if they’re in the front desk and I have such a clear
view, it’s really too much.
Dragging myself back
into the world I say, “Gee, thanks for reminding me girls.”
I’m talking a lot so no one can tell me to stand up and undress
the way they have been made to by me. I push my seat back from my
desk, just enough to get to my shoes, but when it comes to taking my
trousers off I turn my back to them.
“Oh no fair Mr.
Clark!” Olivia protests.