My sister had invited a friend of hers, Iris, to stay with us for a short while. Apparently there'd been a small fire at her place and she needed somewhere to live while repairs were being done. My sister had put her in our spare room and she was happily residing there while the carpenters and painters patched together her place.
I'd never met Iris before and naturally looked her over with evil intentions. She was twenty, according to my sister. She was also tall and slender, a blue-eyed blonde with a Swedish heritage. I was surprised that she didn't have a tribe of boyfriends camped around the house waiting for her to emerge.
All my lust sensors were firmly pointing towards her and I naturally started to chat her up. As I did so each and every lust sensor shut down and went into hiding, swearing to never emerge again. Never mind that Iris was a lovely and intelligent young lady. Forget the fact that she was sex on legs. Look at the fact that she was an incurably naïve innocent. I don't think she'd know what a cock was even if you whipped it out and gave it to her. If she did know, she would dream of thinking it had anything to do with her. I was left stunned that anyone could reach that age and retain their innocence.
From that point on I treated Iris as another sister. A female that is there but generally ignored. She did go out a couple of times on dates but I'd be surprised if the men concerned got past the holding hands stage. Their problem, not mine.
On the first Sunday after Iris moved in I'd been down getting some stuff at Auto Parts, wanting to do some work on my car. When I got home I expected the place to be deserted. My mother was umpiring some basketball games and my father always went along to give her moral support. Umpires need a lot of moral support. My sister had gone out with her boyfriend and I'd forgotten all about Iris.
I was strolling down the hallway to my room when I passed the spare bedroom and happened to glance inside. Iris was sitting on the bed, smiling, as she took a selfie, and the sight was enough to nail my feet to the floor.
Tall and slender with a surprisingly well developed bust. Blonde haired and blue eyed and smiling. That alone would have been enough to make me stop and look. The fact that she was wearing a matched set of tiny white lace panties and bra was just cream on top of everything. Cream naturally lends itself to strawberries and cream. I could see a lot of creamy cleavage with that bra and I was prepared to swear I could see some associated strawberry tips.
I managed to prise my feet up from where they'd been stuck and continued on my way. It was just that my intended destination had changed. I walked into the spare room, flicking the door closed behind me.
"Taking a few selfies," I murmured.
"Hi, Andy," she said, completely unselfconscious. "I'm trying to get a nice shot that I can put on my Facebook page."
"Well, any photo you take right now should do the trick," I said, trying hard not to stare. "However, instead of you sticking your hand way out like that, why not give me the camera and I'll take a few shots for you."
She didn't even think of arguing, just passing me her phone with a smile. We spent the next fifteen minutes taking some photos while she preened and posed and showed a lot of cleavage.
She finally decided she should have enough to choose from and put out her hand for the camera.
"Don't you want a topless one to go with the others?" I asked.
"Oh, I couldn't post a topless picture on Facebook," she protested, blushing.
"Not to post on Facebook. Just a couple for yourself. What harm could it do?"
"Ah, you wouldn't try and post them anyway, even though I don't want them up?" she asked.
"Iris, it's your phone. I won't be posting any photos at all. If you want something posted you'll have to do it. So are you going to risk a topless?"
"Oh, yes, my phone. I forgot," she said. "Um, topless? I don't have any topless photos of myself."
"Then this is your big chance. Yes?"
She blushed a little and nodded, giggling. Reaching behind her she did something and her bra just fell away. Showing great self-control I refrained from giving a loud cry and jumping on her. How could breasts like that stand out so proudly without sagging?
I took a couple of shots, expecting the phone to burst into flame. That girl was hot. Then I handed her the phone to check them out.
She took her time going through the photos, nodding occasionally with satisfaction. I could see when she reached the two topless photos because she blushed and giggled.
"Thank you, Andy," she said sweetly. "These are far better than what I could have done. But I don't think I should have let you take the topless ones. That was naughty of me."
It was probably also naughty of her to still be sitting there topless, her lovely breasts well and truly on display.
"Do you think I was being naughty with the photos?" she asked, suddenly seeming a little anxious.
"Definitely a little naughty," I agreed.
"Oh." She chewed on a thumb for a moment. "My father would spank me if I was naughty. Do you think he'd want to spank me if he saw these?"
"Probably. I wouldn't show them to him if I were you."
She suddenly sat upright, straightening her back, her breasts leaping into even greater prominence.
"You said I was being naughty. Does that mean you intend to spank me?"
Say what? Spank her for being naughty? Was she kidding me?
"Do you think that posing topless before a man is being naughty?" I asked. Before I asked that I don't think the fact that she was topless in front of a man had really registered. One arm promptly folded across her breasts and she blushed.
"I guess," she said.
"And your father's not here to spank you, is he?"
