I emptied my glass, allowing the velvety smooth liquid to envelop my tongue. The rich aroma filled my nostrils, before that all too familiar burn comfortably gripped my throat. I sighed as I leaned forward to place the glass on the coffee table, the milky ice cubes tinkling in hopeful punctuation.

There was another half a glass or so in the bottle, I knew. And it called to me. Refilled, I pushed back into the couch, snorting a laugh at my lack of courage. Yet another missed opportunity.

This latest girl looked dreadful , not the least bit attractive by any conventional measure. But there was something about her that drove me absolutely wild.

She was manning the cash register at Subway when I went in to grab a quick lunch earlier that day. I'd left her fellow Sandwich Artist with an instruction to pile on all the salads, and moved along the counter to pay. She was tall and gangly in that ill-fitting purple uniform. Her eyes were self-consciously cast down, and untidy swathes of chestnut hair fell across her gaunt, horsey face. As I watched her avoid my gaze while she shuffled around in the register, I found myself captivated by her. I don't know what it was, but somehow, she got to me. For the first time since puberty, I was stricken with a spontaneous erection, right there in the queue of a sandwich shop.

I remembered her cold, clammy hand brushing mine when she handed me my change. Her touch was electric. And in that moment, I knew I had to have her. I held her hand lightly as she placed the coins in my palm, causing her to look up. I smiled at her, and she blushed and looked down again, unfamiliar with the attention.

I wanted to ask her out, or at least say something. But the words caught in the back of my throat, leaving my mouth hanging silently open. I kept hold of her hand, my cheeks burning and the sweat prickling on my forehead.

Her blue eyes locked on mine, confused. I persisted, as best I could with a growing audience of Subway Sandwich Art Lovers bottlenecking beside me, and the minimum-wage sauce squeezer on the other side of the counter equally perplexed.

But still blushing, and my heart pounding in my chest, no sound would come. Defeated, I released her hand and slunk out of there with my tail between my legs.

My eyes brimmed at the memory, as I let myself get carried away by self-pity and regret. I reached for the bottle, and drained the last of the Irish Cream into my glass.

"Fuck!" I gasped, wringing my eyes shut and throwing my head back. Thirty years old, and I still didn’t have the balls to ask a woman out to dinner. I was such a loser.

Fiona fumbling loudly at the door ripped me from my ruminations. It sounded like she was laughing as she struggled to get her key in the lock. She obviously had one of her friends with her, or at least on the other end of her mobile phone.

I threw down the last of the Baileys and took the bottle to the recycling bin under the sink. A quick rinse of the glass before I slammed it in the dishwasher disposed of the last of the evidence. The last thing I needed was the passive aggressive judgement of my flatmate.

When Fiona finally burst through the door, it was clear that she was crying, rather than laughing. She was wailing in loud, hysterical sobs. She slammed the front door behind her and stormed off to her bedroom in noisy stiletto clicks across the timber floor.

"Oh shit, Fiona, are you all right?" I called after her, my mood instantly shifting to concern.

Her bedroom door slammed shut in reply, the sound of her crying on the other side barely muffled.

I knocked on her door, but got no response. "Fi, what's wrong?" I called through the door. Still receiving no answer.

Pressing down on the lever, I inched her door open just enough to poke my head through. She was lying face down on her bed, howling into her pillow. Her whole body shook with every sob.

Hey "Fiona?" I called gently to my flatmate. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"Go away!" she screamed into her pillow, then turned onto her side so that she was facing away from me.

Fiona tucked her knees up into the foetal position. The little black dress she'd gone out in pulled up as she did, exposing almost all of her long, shapely thighs. She hadn't even taken her shoes off, the long black stiletto heels threatening to puncture her pale blue bedspread. She was racked with violent sobs, whining desperately as she cried.

Fuelled by Dutch, or more accurately, Irish courage, I went in to comfort her. I sat on the bed, placing my hand gently on her bare shoulder. My touch had no effect, so I spooned up to her and wrapped my arms around her. With my face buried in Fiona’s mane of dark brown hair, I was distracted by the coconut and honey scent of her shampoo.

I held her as she continued to cry, surprised by my own boldness. Apart from the handshake I had offered her when we first met last year, I had never touched her. But something about the hopeless despair of her sobs resonated with me.

It was several minutes before the sobs eventually subsided, giving way to long, deep breaths and the occasional sniffle. I touched my lips to the crown of her head after a moment, causing Fiona to slowly turn over. She wrapped herself around me, nuzzling into my chest. I stroked her long, thick hair, and again planted a soft kiss, this time on her forehead.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

Fiona screwed up her face and began to cry again. She shook her head as she buried her face into my chest.

"Hey," I soothed, stroking her soft hair. "Shhh, it's okay..."

"It's not okay!" Her voice was strained and high-pitched into my chest. "I'm a freak!"

I was shocked by the statement, frozen and unable to find the words to respond. "I don't under..."

"I'm a freak, Will!" She lifted her head up to face me. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her mascara was smeared in blurry panda smudges. "No one's ever going to want me!"

"Hey, slow down," I breathed. "Tell me what happened." I didn’t understand where that statement had come from. She was beautiful. As flawed as my decision was, it was the reason I had chosen her above other more suitable applicants to live with me.

"Oh, I can't," she said, hiding her face in my chest again.

Of course not, I thought with a roll of my eyes. I wasn’t cool enough for her. I was just the nice guy at home to keep her company in case she had nothing better to do on a Saturday night.

"It's just...I don't know how to talk to you about this."

"Fi, you can talk to me about anything. My eyes rolled involuntarily, seemingly controlled by the little voice of reason in my head I never listened to. I kept trying to win her over though.

"I know, Will." She paused, with a squeeze of my arm. Then she swallowed. "It's just...it's...about sex."

I swallowed myself.

I hunkered down with a deep sigh, then coaxed Fiona into talking to me about what had happened. It was part of the nice guy job description after all, mopping up after some alpha male fuckwitt.

She explained that she had gone home with a guy who had recently joined her group of friends. She had taken an instant liking to him, and he had finally made his move.

"He wouldn't turn off the lights, Will," she sobbed. "He said he wanted to look at me. I told him I wanted to turn them off, but he just wouldn't. I should have just left."

"Why didn't you?"

"I really liked him, Will." Her tears overtook her again, and it was another minute before Fiona calmed down.

I lay there silently, waiting for her to continue, stroking her hair with my left hand, and her upper arm with my right.

"He started kissing me. And then he unzipped my dress, and I was just standing there in my underwear." She paused. "And then he undid my bra.”

Far from my finest hour, I was actually becoming aroused. The thought of her being undressed was getting me hard.

"Oh, Will, it was awful," she wept. "I tried to hold it on, but he pulled it away. Oh, his face! He was so grossed out. He said my nipples looked like pen lids. He actually stepped away from me, like this." She leaned back from me, holding her hands up in front of her, as if surrendering.

"Oh, Fi," I consoled as best I could, squeezing her back against me. "Don't worry what a jerk like that thinks of you. You're so beaut..."

"That's not all," she said. "Oh God, I was so stupid!"

"What happened?" I whispered.

"I said, 'I can leave my bra on if you want.'"

I couldn't help but sigh. For once, my voice of reason and I were in agreement.

"I know, Will," she whined. "It was so stupid. I should have just left.” She sighed. “I just liked him so much.

"But he said, 'Okay." And I did my bra back up. We started kissing again, but I could tell he was still really freaked out." Fiona took a second, fortifying herself for the next part of the account. "he wasn't really into it." She swallowed. "So then I started blowing him."

I felt my body stiffen at the admission. It was the last thing I wanted to hear from her, especially with such an asshole.

"He was into it again," she went on.

"I bet," I scoffed.

Fiona managed to snort a small laugh herself, then continued, "Eventually, we were on his bed and he was on top of me. I asked him to turn off the light again, but he just ignored me. And then I tried to get on my hands and knees, but he wouldn't let me turn over."

My stomach started to churn as I feared what might be coming next.

"He said, I really want to see this.' And he started pulling down my panties. I really didn't want him to see me," she cried. "I tried covering myself, but he kept moving my hands. And then he pulled my legs apart."

Fiona groaned, clenching her jaw tightly. "He was like, 'What the fuck! That's so gross! You've got a dick!' I tried to tell him that it was just my clitoris. But he was jumping around the room, freaking out all over the place. He was calling me a hermaphrodite, and a fag. And he said he should beat the shit out of me."

I was stunned. It was the last thing I was expecting to hear. I was relieved that he hadn’t forced her, but that quickly gave way to rage at the way he had treated her.

"And then he started saying something about a crying game, or something. I don't know. I just started crying, and got dressed, and ran out. He was like, Get the fuck out!' and all that. I had to call a taxi from outside."

"He was so cruel, Will," Fiona sobbed. "I really liked him."

"Oh, Fi," I sighed. "I know." Of course, I had never heard about him until then, but I was just trying to be supportive.

We lay there holding each other until Fiona fell silent, breathing deeply into my chest. I didn't know what to say, so I just focussed on the tactile sensation of her hair and her skin. She was so soft.

"What's a crying game?" she sniffled a few minutes later.

"It's a movie," I explained, coughing a laugh, and giving her the twenty-five word synopsis.

I sat her up on her bed, sitting up next to her. She slipped off her shoes, and dropped them over the edge onto the charcoal carpet. I held her head in my hands, her face only an inch from mine. Behind the puffy red and streaked grey, her eyes were so beautiful. They were hazel, with tiny flecks of green and gold.

"Fiona, Sweetheart, you are so beautiful."

"Oh, Will," she dismissed immediately, rolling her eyes so hard that her head flew back.

"Don't get me wrong," I shot back. "You look like a fuckin' train wreck right now. You've been crying for an hour, and you're covered in snot."

"Oh God!" she panicked, throwing her hand over her mouth and lunging for a tissue on her bedside table.

"You are beautiful," I said forcefully. Then with a smile, and the best fake British accent I could summon, "Love, you're just gorgeous!"

Fiona wrinkled her nose at me, her brow furrowed. "Michael Caine?"

"No! Gok Wan. You know, How to Look Good Naked." I was indignant. "Remember? You made me watch it."

It took her a second, but she knew where I was going, and sat back defensively. "Will, no!"

I gave her a playful grin.

Fiona squealed, then darted off her bed for the door. I leapt up after her, snatching her up around the waist and spinning her back into the room in a flurry of dark hair, cocktail dress and laughter.

"Come on," I said seriously. "Let's do this.

With her back to me, she turned her head to meet my gaze. I could tell she recognised the sincerity in my eyes, and her body relaxed in my arms.

"Okay," she whispered.

I loosened my grip around her waist and stomach, letting my hands slide around until they were resting on her narrow hips. As we stepped across the room to the mirrored wardrobe doors, I could feel the waistband of her panties beneath her dress, and the flex and roll of her muscles in my hands.

The reflection of Fiona standing there in a sexy little black dress, bare feet and dishevelled makeup was surprisingly alluring. She was tall, with only my eyes and forehead poking up above the top of her head. The rest of my body framed her lithe form, with my shoulders extending out past hers.

"Hmm," she breathed.

"Yeah, you probably need to clean yourself up a bit," I smiled into the back of her head.

She laughed, and skipped off to the bathroom. The sound of running water, sliding drawers and banging cupboards filtered into her room from the bathroom just outside. I waited patiently, watching the doorway for her return. And when I saw the bathroom light click off, I couldn't help but smile.

Fiona padded back into her bedroom. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, but she looked straight into my eyes as she settled back into position in between me and the mirror. Her face was still a little raw, but otherwise clean and natural.

"Wow. That's much better," I smiled, tilting my head around to the side so that she could fully see my face in the mirror. Then again with the accent, "You're gorgeous, Love. Goctastic!"

She silently laughed at me, shaking her head.

I placed my hands on her shoulders. "So, how do you feel?"

"Fine," she said. "But this isn't the problem."

"Okay then," I said indifferently. And with one, smooth motion, I unzipped the back of her dress down to the base of her spine.

Fiona gasped, her hazel eyes like saucers. Before she had a chance to react, I hooked my thumbs into the thin shoulder straps and peeled them down over her arms. The material caught briefly on the front of her bra, and I slid my hands around her full breasts to free it. The dress fell to her waist, bunching at her hips.

We stared into each other's eyes through the mirror, and I ran my fingers down her soft stomach, burrowing in between her panties and the folds of her dress. Sliding my hands around to the gentle flare of her hips, I pushed the dress past her curves, and it splashed to the floor, pooling at her feet.

She took a deep breath, her chest and shoulders rising as she took in the sight of herself in nothing but a frilly black lace bra and matching panties. Then she sighed suddenly, with a drop of her shoulders.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, surprised at her reaction. "You're stunning."

"Yeah," she breathed impassively. "Until these come off."

She met my eyes in the mirror and sighed. Fiona lifted her chin fractionally, entrenching her insecurity. Her hair fell about her shoulders, and I combed it back with my fingers so that all the soft, dark strands hung down over her shoulder blades. The newly exposed cleavage from the top of her bra was impressive.

Flicking the tag out from her bra strap, I looked at the size. "Ten-C? What's that? I thought it was supposed to be thirty-six or something?"

"Oh God, Will." Fiona nearly clocked me in the face as she threw her head back in another epic eye roll. "Ten is my dress size, and C is the cup size. Thirty-six and all that is American sizing. I think it's inches around the chest." With that, her fingertips traced around the bottom of her bra.

"Hmm." I looked up from the tag again. "So you're rocking a pair of C cups? Dude!" My smile and bobbing head punctuating my impressed tone.

Fiona groaned with another roll of her eyes, but she couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from curling up. When our eyes met again, a full smile broke out across her face.

"So talk to me," I grinned back. "What is it about these perfect breasts you don't like?"

"It's my nipples." Her smile faded away, but her tone was still light. "They're really big. I mean, they poke out really badly." She started to cringe.

"Well, let's get a look at them then." I kept my tone light, trying to downplay the significance of her insecurity. Then I whispered, "Take off your bra when you're ready."

Time stood still, with Fiona and I staring into the mirror. She wasn't moving. Her arms hung by her sides, her thumbs twitching back and forth across her thighs.

"Oh come on, Love," I flamboyantly called in my best British accent. "Get your bangers out and give us a look, yeah?"

Fiona's stomach tightened with a single bout of silent laughter. And then when we locked eyes, she laughed again.

"Go on, Love!"

"Okay, okay," she giggled, reaching behind her back and finding the clasp.

Her bra popped open, and her hands quickly whipped around the front to catch the cups. Her face was serious as she looked at me, her head tilted to the left. She returned my smile as I peeled the shoulder straps down until they fell into the crooks of her elbows. Then, with one last sigh, Fiona lowered her hands, letting the bra fall away with them.

"Whoa," I gasped involuntarily.

Those spectacular , full globes hung proudly on her chest, with only the slightest hint of succumbing to gravity. Her deep pink areolas contrasted beautifully with her creamy porcelain skin. And whatever issues she had with her nipples, were a nonsense. They were large, protruding out about an inch, but they were so deliciously puffy and suckable.

"Fi," I beamed. "I don't...what are you...what the fuck? Your nipples are gorgeous."

She shifted awkwardly, tilting her head and lifting one shoulder. "It's when they get hard. They're a lot longer."

"Okay, so make them go hard and let's have a look," I suggested.

Fiona wrinkled her nose at me, bemused. "I can't just make them go hard."

"What about if you pinch them a little?"

She barked a sarcastic laugh, holding her hands incredulously over her breasts. " I'm not pinching my nipples in front of you."

"Okay. I've got an idea. Wait there." I sprang out to the kitchen, returning a minute later with one of the short glasses I usually used for Baileys, with a couple of ice cubes swirling in the bottom.

"Oh no you don't," she laughed, catching sight of the glass and shaking her head.

"Pinch or chill, Love: what's your pleasure?" My nineteenth century Cockney was first class.

Fiona's smile was resigned. The flush in her cheeks was growing, and I could tell she was getting excited by the prospect of either. Her nipples were already noticeably longer. She pressed her lips together, lifted her chin, and looked directly into my eyes with as much dignity as she could muster. Then she crossed her arms under her breasts and exhaled audibly, filling the air with the scent of the sweet, pre-mixed vodka she had been drinking with her friends.

"Okay then," I breathed, taking a slippery ice cube from the glass.

Fiona's breath hitched as the frozen cube touched the end of her left nipple, and I could see it lengthen before my eyes. My own breath wavered, and I looked up to see her blush deepen as she looked down at herself.

I looped the cube around her hardening nipple, leaving a glistening trail on her engorged flesh. The backs of my numb fingers occasionally grazed her nipple as I spun the ice around and around, and I was losing myself. It only got worse when I reached her dark pink, almost purple areola. I must have completed at least half a dozen laps.

I was in awe of Fiona's nipple, now standing out nearly two inches from her ripe breast. It was unusual, to be sure. I'd certainly never seen anything like it before. And there was something aesthetically jarring about the unfamiliar sight.

But at the same time, it was the most sexy thing I had ever seen. I just wanted to suck it, more than anything in the world.

I broke away, taking the dripping ice cube across to her right breast. Her other nipple was almost fully erect anyway, but I still repeated the process, until it was nice and shiny., and we were both breathing heavily.

"Oh, Fiona, you have the sexiest nipples," I gasped. My erection had returned full force.

"Yeah," she scoffed. She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes brimming and her cheeks still flushed. Then she bit the side of her bottom lip. "You know, you can stop rubbing them with the ice if you like."

"Oops," I laughed. "See what I mean? Fi, your nipples are gorgeous. I can't help myself."

"So are you going to stop rubbing ice on them?" she chirped.

Her giggle turned mischievous, then she snatched the glass containing the other two ice cubes, pulled out the waistband of my tracksuit pants and poured in the frigid contents.

I recoiled back in shock, desperately fishing the freezing cubes from my undies in a chaotic, hopping dance. We were both howling with laughter.

"Seems ice has the opposite effect on boners," she teased, with her hands on her hips.

"So it does." I cleared my throat with a smile. "Your still not convinced you've got great nipples?"

She wasn't having it. And with the reaction of the dumb shit she'd been with earlier that night, I honestly couldn't blame her.

So I thought back to what the Fairy Gokmother would do. "Okay, I've got an idea. Remember the show? He puts a photo of the woman's bangers up on the side of a building..."

"We're not doing that!" she squealed.

"Yes, because I know just how to arrange that," I said sarcastically. "All that outdoor projection experience I have. And don't forget my lifelong billboard contacts."

"All right!" She tilted her head with a pout. "What are you thinking?"

"We take a photo, and instantaneously put it out there on the line, and share it with other people." I was quoting The Internship I had watched the week before, but she didn't laugh. "I'm sure there's sites out there where you can put up nude photos and get comments."

"Are you serious?" She was frowning.

"We won't show your face or anything. Just a shot of your breasts. Completely anonymous. Just so you can see the comments."

"I don't know." Her face softened.

"Look," I reassured. "We'll just start with the photos, and see how you feel after that. Okay?"

She reluctantly agreed, and I went and got my camera from the desk in the study nook right outside her door. She stood stiffly in the centre of her bedroom as I snapped away at her from various angles, gritting her teeth and blushing.

"That's it, Love." Gok was back. "Give me another sigh. Perfect! Now give me another one, but this time, roll your eyes too. Really throw them back, yeah?"

Fiona started giggling, and the tension evaporated. I was bouncing around the room, clicking away like a madman and tearing the ass out of the cockney photographer routine. She played along, striking poses and blowing kisses, and generally getting caught up in the horseplay. But the wheels eventually fell off when my Gok Wan impersonation somehow morphed into Richard Simmons screaming, "Like a pony! Like a pony!"

Fiona doubled over with laughter, her beautiful breasts jiggling hypnotically. I stood from my crouch on her floor and cleared my throat, trying in vain to recapture some of my own dignity.

We hurried out to the study nook to hook the camera up to the computer. Fiona pulled a spare chair up next to mine, and it was then that I noticed that she was still topless, wearing nothing but those skimpy little panties.

"Hey, I'm up here, perv," she grinned.

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment at being caught looking. "You know what? I think we should make a new house rule: you're not allowed to wear a bra at home anymore. Your nipples are just too beautiful to be hidden away."

"Yeah, right." She snorted. But this time, her smile didn't fade.

We shared a brief look, then turned our attention to the screen. I'd taken a hundred and twenty-seven photos of her, which made us both laugh out loud. We scrolled through them quickly, shortlisting possibles into a separate folder. The first thirty or so captured all the awkwardness and discomfort of the moment, but as she loosened up, the photos came to life. Another fifty or so showed her face.

"Hey!" Fiona slapped my arm as we scrolled through half a dozen shots tightly framing her perfect ass stuck out at the camera. One of which showed her pulling the waistband down over her hip, and another with her spanking herself.

"I'm an artist." I shrugged my shoulders, and blushed again.

In the end, we ended up with three photos. One was a full body shot, with her hands on her hips and her turned face hidden by her hair. The second was a upper body shot of Fiona lifting her hair above her head, with one breast in profile and the other directly facing the lens. And the final tightly cropped shot showed her lifting and squeezing her breasts together, giving the best view of her nipples.

It didn't take long to find a nude version of instagram, with a Google search for "naked selfies" spitting out over a million results. We quickly registered and uploaded the photos, adding the tag line, "What do you think of my nipples?"

"Now we wait." I sat back in the chair, letting my eyes fall once again to Fiona's lovely chest.

She cocked her head at me and smiled, the faintest hue returning to her cheeks. "I should put something on." She stood and strode back into her bedroom.

"Just remember the new house rule," I called over my shoulder.

Fiona turned on her heel in the doorway and blew me a kiss, then disappeared with a giggle.

I took the opportunity to get something to drink. "Hey, Fi? I'm making some hot chocolate. Do you want one?"

"Yes please, Will. Thanks."

When I ducked back around the corner from the kitchen with the two steaming mugs, Fiona was still in her room.

I poked my head in and found her standing in front of the mirror with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a tight white Hello Kitty t-shirt that didn't quite come all the way down to the waistband of her panties. She turned and pouted at me. Her nipples were stretching her top out in a taut circus tent across her chest.

"You're going to ruin that shirt," I chuckled.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I don't think your new rule is going to work out.

I stepped over to her, and took the hem of her t-shirt, whispering, "Revision to the rule:" I lifted the thin fabric up her body. "You have to be topless at home."

"Okay," she smiled at me in the mirror. "But so do you." With that, she spun around and lifted my own t-shirt up. "One in, all in," she grinned.

I self-consciously sucked in my stomach, and we both started giggling, like a couple of schoolgirls. Then Fiona quickly reached up and playfully tweaked my nipples. I jumped at the electric shock, then launched my own counter attack. When she covered her breasts, I started tickling her around the ribs, which soon degenerated into a squealing tickle fight.

Fiona tried to escape across her bed, crawling frantically away from me. I caught her ankle and dragged her back towards me. She tried to roll off to the side, but I pounced on top of her, pinning her busy hands above her head. Her body heaved with fits of laughter, her excited nipples at full mast inches in front of my face.

I couldn't help myself. I involuntarily dived down on her breast and sucked her right nipple into my mouth. With my lips at the base, kissing her areola, I sucked hard on the full length of her oversized nipple. My tongue licked and sucked at her engorged flesh, bending the shaft as it swirled around.

I pulled back in shock at what I had just done. As much as I wanted to, we had never crossed that line before.

I gaped at Fiona. Her own face was frozen, her eyes wide. We stared at each other for an eternity. The silence was deafening. Excruciating.

"What about the other one?" Her rasp was barely audible above the heartbeat thundering away in my ears. Fiona twisted her upper body slightly to the right, offering up her left breast. Her eyes were glazed over in a hopeful, smouldering lust.

My entire body flushed with an incredible warmth, with the heat at its most intense in my nose and open lips.

I sank back down onto her, cupping her tender breast in my hand. I lapped at her soft flesh, licking around the base of her nipple, then slowly up its incredible length. Swirling my tongue around as I went, I sucked it into my mouth like my life depended on it.

Fiona moaned, arching her back to press more of her breast into my mouth. It was obvious from her reaction, and her insecurities, that she had never experienced the sensation of someone sucking her nipples before.

In my own lust and confusion, I wanted to give her that experience, that pleasure. But unfortunately my nice guy instincts kicked in, not letting me take advantage of her in such a fragile state. I snapped back to reality, throwing myself back off her.

I cleared my throat after a few seconds trying to catch my breath. "Our hot chocolate's going cold."

"Uh-ha," she breathed, sitting up. "We should check on those comments anyway."

We sheepishly padded back out to the computer to check the comments on the photos, and hide behind our hot chocolates. When our eyes met, we both blushed and looked anywhere else. But very quickly, that cheeky little smile overtook us, causing us to steal a glimpse of each other again.

"Holy shit!" I half coughed up my drink. "You've already had one thousand two hundred and twenty-nine views! And most people are scoring you five out of five. Look." I pointed at the voting results on the screen.

"How many comments are there?" Her tone was so timid.

The profile page indicated forty-eight comments, displayed across separate pages of twenty. We started reading the first page, which although fairly crass, was entirely positive.

"Oh my God!" Fiona held her hand across her mouth to cover an astonished laugh, her eyes bulging.

I caught up to where she was. "'Your tits are so fucking hot. The only thing that would make them look better, is if they were covered in my cum.'" I couldn't help but laugh. "What a wordsmith."

"Real charmer," she giggled.

We continued reading, clicking onto the next page. As we did, the number of views refreshed itself to over fifteen hundred, and the comments spilled over onto a fourth page.

"Oh, that one's really sweet," I smiled, pointing at the screen.

"'Your breasts are so lovely. I have nipples like that too. I only wish I could be as confident as you showing them off. You make them look sexy. You've really made me feel better about mine. Thank you.' Oh, Will." Fiona's hand went back across her mouth, but this time her eyes welled.

The comments kept coming, When I clicked on the fifth page, a hyperlinked "Next" appeared at the bottom of the page, indicating more than a hundred. Most of them were simple sentence fragments about how hot Fiona's nipples were. There were plenty of incredibly graphic statements of intent, which were, in their own way, positive. And most powerful of all, were about half a dozen or so really touching messages. Fiona was overwhelmed by the feedback, and she struggled to swallow down the lump in her throat.

I squeezed Fiona's thigh and whispered, "Now do you believe me?"

She nodded, pressing her lips together to try and stop herself from crying. She slowly closed her big, dewy eyes and kissed me softly on the lips. "Thank you."

I put my arm around her naked shoulders, squeezing her into me for an awkward, seated hug, and kissed the top of her head. We sat there together like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying the moment and finishing the last of our hot chocolate.

"So shall we keep going?" Fiona sat upright, her expression bright and hopeful.

"Sure," I smiled.

We sidled back into Fiona's room, with my hands on her hips the entire way. As we stood in front of the mirror, I marvelled at the last thread of clothing she wore in the reflection: those tiny, black lace panties.

Her shoulders slouched slightly as she sighed. But she held my gaze in the mirror. I placed my hands lightly on her bare shoulders, conscious that I didn't have a shirt on either.

I kissed her ear and whispered, "It's okay."

Fiona hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. She hesitated a second, then slowly pulled them down over her subtle hips. A dark thatch of pubic hair came into view as her panties collapsed into a thin line across her sex, before continuing down. She bent over in front of me to guide her underwear down her gorgeous thighs, her naked ass pressing back into the hardness in my tracksuit pants. At her knees, she let her panties drop the rest of the way to the floor, then straightened again.

Completely naked, my usually standoffish flatmate was a vision. An absolute vision.

I could see her throat tensing as she searched my reflection for reassurance. She didn't know what to do with her hands, and her fingers ended up lightly tracing the gentle ridge of her hip bones.

"Fi, you're stunning."

"You can't see my clit?" she squeaked nervously.

"Not from this angle." I slid my hand around her hip and ran my fingers through the thick pubes on her mound. "Then again, with this Don't Mess with the Zohan bush of yours, it's a little hard to see anything."

She half turned and slapped my arm in retaliation for the comment. But she was still smiling.

"Here." I pointed. "Come over and sit on the bed."

I guided her over to her bed by her hips. She spun out of my grip and sat on the edge of her bed, her long legs pressed tightly together. I could still see that dark tuft at the apex of her thighs as she sat there looking up at me, her hands resting on her knees.

I pulled one of the office chairs in from the study nook and sat in front of her, our knees touching. Then gently laying my hands on hers, I breathed, "Are you able to show me?"

Fiona gave me the sweetest smile, almost pleading with me not to hurt her. I returned the most reassuring look I could, and with that, I felt her knees part beneath our hands.

Honestly, I was shocked. It took everything I had not to flinch at the sight. It looked like a little finger, about two inches long, surrounded by a dark forest of pubic hair.

"What do you think?" Her tone was painfully insecure.

"I think it’s fine.” I swallowed the lie. “I mean, I can see what you're trying to do. But I think you might be making it worse trying to cover it up." I reached out slowly towards her. "Here, let me..."

I gently brushed back her pubes, bringing her labia into view. Her lips were long, soft pink petals, hugging the sides of her clit, the creases between them forming an elongated "V". Her inner labia protruded slightly at the bottom, a darker shade of pink, and shining slightly from her earlier arousal. And there was that sticky, earthy smell.

I don't know how long I studied my flatmate's vulva, but the strain in my back from leaning forward so long finally forced me to stop. When I sat up, Fiona stared into my eyes expectantly, her cheeks still flushed.

I smiled, my own eyes welling with tears. "You are so pretty down there."

Fiona's chin trembled. A few tears started leaking from the inside corners of her eyes. She wanted to believe me so much.

"I think if we trim back your pubes, it'll look a lot nicer," I reassured softly. Then I went Goktastic again, "At the moment, Love, you're all bush and clit. Let's hack that back and let everyone see how gorgeous it is underneath, yeah?"

Fiona started laughing, her whole body rocking in bouncing fits. "Okay. I trust you."

I took her hand and led her into her bathroom. Leaving her sitting on a folded towel on the edge of the bath, I raced around the other side of the kitchen to my ensuite and retrieved my beard trimmer. I reset the length of the comb to about a centimetre and a half as I plugged it in. My George Michael designer stubble look wasn't quite what she needed.

"Thank you so much for doing this," Fiona broke in with a whisper.

“No worries,” I smiled up at her. “Any excuse to get a look at you naked. I’ve been trying to ever since you moved in.”

“Don’t do that.” She touched my forearm. “Pretend you’re not a good guy.

“Yeah, good guy,” I murmured sarcastically.

With a low, high-speed hum that made us both giggle, I mowed the pubic hair on her mound in long, slow strokes. Then repeated the process, going back the other way. Little dark curls fell to the floor between her feet, contrasting heavily with the white tiles.

“I never really gave you a chance, did I?” she said more seriously.

“You’re not supposed to, Fi. We’re flatmates, not…”

“Yeah, but I didn’t need to be so…I didn’t have to shut you out like that. You know, it’s just…I was moving in with this strange guy I didn’t know. I was just trying to protect myself. You know, have clear boundaries?”

“Hey, I get it.” I tapped out the trimmer on the edge of the bath.

“I could have been nicer to you.” Then in a whisper, “I should have been nicer to you.”

Her bush was already beautifully shaped to fit nicely into those skimpy little panties she wore. And now the length made her muff look much neater. Much sexier.

Changing the subject, I asked, "So have you always had an enlarged clitoris?”

“Yeah,” she smiled warmly. “It’s called clitoromegaly. It’s perfectly normal. It’s just enlarged.” Fiona snorted a small laugh. “My parents actually thought I was a boy from the ultrasound.”

“Really?” I laughed.

“Yeah. They painted my room blue, and got me all these boy’s toys. You know, cars and blocks and stuff? And when I was born, they couldn’t afford to change any of it.”

“So that’s why you’re an engineer?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” she laughed.

I dialled the comb down to its shortest setting, only about a millimetre, then slowly ran it through the long, uncontrolled pubes running down either side of her labia. The clippers crackled through her hair as I very carefully traced the contours of her vulva. More and more, her pretty pussy came into view, framed only by short stubble.

"Careful there," she giggled. "That's not the buzzing down there I'm used to."

"I know," I laughed. “We share a bedroom wall.

“Oh my God!” She covered her face with her hands, mortified. But I could still see the bright shade of crimson between her fingers.

We shared a knowing grin as I tapped the last of her pubic hair from my trimmer. I told her to stay put, and quickly retrieved a bowl from the kitchen, and a dustpan and brush from the hall cupboard. She was still sitting spreadeagle on the edge of the bath when I returned, and after tidying up the mess on the floor, I filled the bowl with warm water. Then I sat down on the tiles between her legs with my shaving supplies.

"So, you never thought of having it reduced?”

"Yeah, it came up. Apparently one of the bigwig doctors came around shortly after I was born, chomping at the bit to perform a reduction."

"Your parents didn't let him?" I screwed up my face. "Obviously."

"Hmm." Fiona tilted her head and gave me a crooked smile.

"What about you, when you got older?”

“Yeah, I looked into it, but it’s…meh.” She shook her head. “There’s thousands of nerve endings in the clitoris. And the risk of potentially losing sexual function.” She shook her head again. “It’s not something I wanted to do.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed.

I squeezed out a dollop of shaving cream into my palm and loosely rubbed it between my hands. Fiona bit her lip as I reached between her legs, then gasped sharply as the cold foam made contact with her sensitive skin. We smiled broadly at each other, silently sharing the humour of the moment.

I stopped for a moment and looked up at her. “It obviously bothers you though? I mean you’re a bit self-conscious about it?”

She pressed her lips tightly together and nodded. “I had a rough time at school. You know, in the change rooms and stuff?”

“Mmm,” I nodded, putting my hand reassuringly on her knee. “What about sex? I mean, you’re not a virgin. Right?”

“No,” she snorted with a wide grin.

“So…I don’t get it. What do you do? I mean, how have your partners reacted?”

“I try not to let anyone see me. You know, keep my bra on, make sure the lights are off. If you can still see, I turn over. You know, doggy style? And I definitely don’t let anyone go down on me.” She huffed a laugh. “Although, that’s not usually something guys want to do anyway.”

Rather than smile at her joke, I looked up at her thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “The guys who have seen me, they’ve been really awful. They make me feel really ugly, like a freak.” Her eyes welled, but she gave me a sweet smile when I squeezed her knee.

With a fresh blade in my razor, I gently shaved Fiona's pussy, rinsing the shaver in the bowl between every stroke. The dark stubble disappeared, leaving behind perfectly soft, creamy skin. A few stubborn hairs forced me to gently hold her labia to the side to allow me access. The incidental contact of my fingertips on Fiona's clit caused her breath to hitch.

“Sorry,” I smiled sheepishly.

“You don’t though.” The tears began to spill down her cheeks.

“I don’t what?”

“You don’t make me feel like a freak at all,” she quietly wept. “You really think I’m beautiful, don’t you?”

My own eyes brimmed as I stared into hers and nodded. I rose to run a facecloth under warm water, before sitting back down between her legs. Holding her gaze, I gently dabbed her freshly shaven pussy with the moist cloth.

"Well, hold the phone, Love," I flamboyantly beamed in my dreadful British accent. "If I don't say so myself, I think we've got a Goktastic pussy here."

"Really?" she giggled through the tears.

"Yeah," I said softly, placing my hand on her bare thigh.

Fiona's pussy was gorgeous. She now had a cute, dark little muff on top, drawing the eye. And her clit was much less prominent against her labia and smooth, pale flesh. You would need a second, much closer look to know exactly what you were looking at, and by then, the intoxicating charm of those beautiful pink folds would have you.

"Will, you're staring," she giggled.

I looked up at her, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "You are so beautiful, you don't even know."

"I can't see it from here," she smiled, becoming excited.

"My shaving mirror!" I leapt to my feet and raced off to my ensuite. I bounded back in with my prize, and handed it over as I sat back down in front of her. She held the round shaving mirror in front of her pussy, her eyes fixed on the reflection. I couldn't read her expression, but she was fixated. Then with her free hand, she reached down and touched herself.

Any notion that this was some exercise in self-esteem had long since gone, and the sight of Fiona studying herself so intently, caused my cock to harden painfully in my pants. Her delicate fingers roamed so lightly across her sex, registering every new tactile sensation. She was truly exploring herself. It was so incredible to witness.

"Well?" I looked up at her.

"It's really pretty." Her smile was wide. Then her voice trailed off in a whisper, "Oh my God. Thank you, Will."

"Do you want to put some photos instantaneously on the line?"

She giggled. Finally. "I don't think we need to. Do you?"

"I'd certainly like to take the photos," I suggested, doing my best to sound innocent.

"I bet," she chuckled, standing up.

I rose to my feet in front of my naked flatmate. She was different, changed somehow. She radiated confidence, holding her shoulders back and beaming with self-assurance.

"Thank you, Will." Fiona threw her arms around my neck and pressed herself firmly against me.

I felt her hard nipples poking against my bare chest, while my erection pressed comfortably against her pubic bone. The silky smooth contours of the muscles in her back licked at my fingertips as I held her, smelling her soft, tropical hair.

“You’re welcome.” I kissed her softly on the mouth. Then I kissed her again, much more slowly, allowing my tongue to flick across her bottom lip. When I pulled back, I stroked her hair behind her ear. "I think we need another house rule."

"Let me guess." Her eyes twinkled as she leaned her face into my hand. "I'm not allowed to wear anything at home?"

"Look, I don't like making rules. But for the good of the city…"

"Uh-ha," she laughed, as she turned to leave the bathroom.

My hands stayed in contact with her, sliding around her waist as she turned. I let them caress her smooth skin down to her hips, then across the impossible softness of her ass as she strode into her bedroom.

Fiona stopped at the foot of the bed, spinning quickly and whipping me in the face with the ends of her hair. "You really want me to be naked all the time?"

"I do," I croaked.

"Okay," she chirped. "But you have to be naked too." And with that, she began tickling me around the ribs.

Fiona squealed as I tickled her back. Then she hooked her arm around my neck, pulling me back towards her. I felt her kick my foot out from under me, and we tumbled together onto her bed, laughing. She was on her back, scrambling away as I crawled on top of her.

"Come on!" she laughed, tickling at my sides and pulling at the waistband of my tracksuit pants. "Get 'em off. Rules are rules."

I was between her legs, and as she clawed at me, I could feel her get my waistband down over my ass. Her body arched beneath me, my hands finding the softness of her breasts. I instinctively pinched her nipples, eliciting a squeal out of my gorgeous flatmate.

"You rat!" she half laughed, half moaned.

Then she hooked her toes into my pants, and kicked them down my legs, rolling and bunching them as she went. Her nails dug into my ass as I pawed her breasts, pinching her enlarged nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I could feel Fiona's freshly trimmed muff brushing the underside of my shaft as we tussled.

"Oh, Will," she gasped.

"Fi, you're so beautiful."

Our fevered breath and moans reached a crescendo, and we finally surrendered ourselves to the lust that had been building since she arrived home. I kissed her burning lips hard and open mouthed, sucking at her wet lips and tongue passionately.

She ran her fingers through my hair, pulling me into her. Our noses mashed together as we kissed, and licked, and sucked, moaning into each other's mouths.

Fiona threw her head back, drilling it into the pale blue bedspread as she arched herself. I kissed down her chin and throat, gently nibbling and sucking as I went. I steered her nipples like tiny joysticks as I kissed my way down between her breasts. Then I attacked her left breast with my mouth, devouring the soft flesh until I had that magnificent stem between my lips.

Licking up and down its length with the tip of my tongue, I sucked it hard as I swirled around and around. I kneaded her swollen breast as I nibbled gently on the tip, and then continued sucking. I repeated the process on her right breast, until it too was shiny with my saliva. Keeping my hands glued to her soft globes, I kissed my way down her belly, spiralling my tongue into her navel.

"Oh, Will, yes," she moaned from the depths of her diaphragm., holding my head in her hands as I continued my journey.

I brought my hands down over her hip bones, sliding from the softness of her stomach to the hardness of her slender frame. Then my palms found the seductive tenderness of her splayed inner thighs. I kissed my way through her dark patch of pubic hair, scratching my nose and breathing in her lightly perfumed scent. I could still detect the faint aroma of my shaving cream, bringing a mischievous smile to my face. Then my lips found the newly naked flesh on either side of her glistening sex.

I teased her mercilessly, kissing and licking every millimetre of skin near her pussy, without touching what she wanted me to most of all. I even tickled her perineum with my tongue. Fiona bucked up, trying to thrust herself at me, but I held her firmly in place by her thighs.

"Oh, Will, please," she begged.

I very slowly kissed my way up the left side of her pussy, tilting my head ever so slightly, so that my nose only just grazed the side of her enlarged clit. Fiona's whole body spasmed, her back arching impossibly as she moaned out in ecstasy. She was racked by wave after wave of her orgasm, each one not letting the last subside before it struck.

I Eskimo kissed her lovely clit again, gently rubbing my nose up and down her length. Fiona was whimpering at my touch, now holding my hands on her thighs. Her pungent earthiness filled my nostrils, and I decided to up the ante.

I licked the full length of her clit with the tip of my tongue, causing her to cry out. Then I licked again, maximising the surface area of my tongue I had in contact with her engorged organ, the rough wet sensation of my taste buds pushing her over the edge again.

I let her recover by plunging my tongue into her sopping cunt. I sucked and chewed at her labia as I fucked her with my mouth, my nose occasionally flicking the end of her clit, causing her whole body to jolt.

When her breathing steadied, I burrowed one, then two fingers into her, and stirred her gooey depths as I sucked her clit into my mouth. My lips and tongue worked her engorged organ rhythmically, and Fiona rolled her hips in time with me until she lost herself in another all-consuming climax.

“Will, please,” she begged, holding her hand over her ravished snatch. “I can’t. It’s too sensitive.” When I halted my onslaught, Fiona collapsed back, flat onto the bed, heaving with exhaustion. She held her forearms across her face, trying to compose herself. But those incredible nipples still called to me.

I clambered back up her supple body and gobbled her breast into my mouth. Fiona giggled, then grabbed my face and pulled me up to kiss her.

"Oh, Will, that was incredible. Thank you so much."

"I want you, Fiona. I have to have you," I breathed back.

Fiona's hand found my cock, and guided the head to her opening. The warm, wet sensation of her labia kissing my tip was tremendous. I couldn't wait. I sank myself into my flatmate's horny cunt, feeling her roll her hips up to meet me. I was sheathed in her molten core, and it was all I could do not to come right then.

Our eyes met as I bottomed out inside her. The bright flecks of green and gold sparkled. We kissed, then shared a brief giggle. And then I started grinding my cock into her.

"You feel so good inside me," Fiona moaned.

The tactile sensation of her smooth thighs against my hips was incredible. Her warm skin. The sound of her moaning. The look in her eyes. It was too much. I rocked back and forth inside her, making love to her with more and more of my length, until I was sawing in and out of her with lusty abandon. I lost myself, fucking my flatmate senseless. Her drenched pussy gripped my cock so tightly as I thrust into her. She was so hot.

"Oh, Will," she moaned. "I want you."

Her words were too much. They pushed me over the edge. "I'm going to come!" I groaned.

"Yes, Will! Come inside me. I want to feel you inside me."

The tingle in my limbs overtook me, growing into an immense warmth. Then the overwhelming pleasure as it exploded out through my cock. I roared as spurt after spurt of my seed gushed out into her bare cunny. I ground into her as deep as I could, until I was paralysed by post-orgasmic sensitivity.

When I returned to my senses, I noticed Fiona panting beneath me. Her brow was furrowed with concern, and she ran her fingers through my hair. "Are you all right, Will?"

I nodded with a smile, and kissed her gently. "Are you okay?."

She giggled to let me know that she was, her eyes glistening. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"You are so beautiful," I breathed with a kind smile. "You're just gorgeous, Love!"

***

Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it. Please vote and leave a comment.