I straightened up and nodded with satisfaction. The ornate mirror looked just right, and clearly reflected the shower behind me. Hopefully Jenna would be as pleased with my handiwork as I was, but for a totally different reason. Quickly sweeping and mopping the bathroom floor, I made a final check, pleased that the heavy scrolled black and silver curlicues on the frame provided almost perfect camouflage. To my guilty critical eye the addition stood out like a sore thumb, but the guy in the store had assured me that only the closest scrutiny would reveal my guilty secret.
Two minutes later I was booting up my computer in my room, and a click of the mouse brought up a perfect view of the shower screen door, and most of the bathroom, including the bath off to one side. The tiny remote controlled button camera I had fitted into the mirror frame just above knee height had cost more than I had really wanted to pay, but it was top of the range and state of the art, so hopefully it would be well worth it. Now it was simply a matter of waiting.
I had been an emotionally immature just-turned-eighteen year old when my girlfriend Christina became pregnant, but with the cockiness of youth, and against the advice of our parents I had convinced her to marry me. The birth of Jenna three months later had brought me down to earth with a bang, and I grew up quickly. I absolutely and totally fell in love with this adorable bundle of joy, more so I suspect than her mother did, and as the years passed the realisation grew that what Christina and I shared was purely physical, and gradually we drifted apart. That is not to say that our relationship became acrimonious, because we were very good friends. It was simply that we saw things differently. Christina needed her social life and her outside friends, whereas I was more than content looking after and doting on our beautiful daughter.
As time passed Chris became more independent, and I began to wonder if she was seeing someone else, but strangely the thought of my wife spreading her legs for another man didn't bother me as much as I would have thought. She needed more excitement than I could give her, so as long as she was reasonably discreet around our daughter I could live with it. Somehow I couldn't really bring myself to think of it as cheating, because we were no longer close, and besides, any time I wanted to fuck her she was as enthusiastic as she had always been.
When Jenna was ten years old, we decided to call it a day, and at her request I helped Chris move into a small but comfortable apartment. My lack of interest in the social whirl and nightclubbing meant that I could provide a more suitable environment in which to raise a child, so Chris suggested that Jenna stay with me, provided I agreed to unrestricted access. We both had steady jobs, me as a warehouse supervisor and Chris as a stenographer, so money was never an issue for either of us. Fortunately Jenna took the separation well once it was explained, and her Mom eased it even more by ringing her every day, and visiting at least three times a week to take her out.
Chris respected my privacy as much as I respected hers, and she was always careful to ring before she came over. For the first five years or so, occasionally when she brought Jenna home from one of their outings, Chris would settle her into bed, and after waiting until she was asleep we would fuck, although she always refused to stay overnight. A couple of years after the break up we agreed to a divorce, which really was no more than a formality, because her visits and our friendship continued, but three years later she told me she had met someone, so our fucking petered out to about once every couple of months.
Until we split up it had been my self appointed task to bathe my beautiful daughter every night, but when her Mom left some inner voice told me that it was no longer appropriate for a twenty eight year old man to be alone in the room with a naked ten year old girl. The ensuing eight years had been pure agony for me, due to both my enforced celibacy, and my self imposed denial of seeing Jenna's figure gradually develop into the stunning young woman she had become. Lately I had managed to catch random and all too brief glimpses of her in her underwear, but this had only served to increase my frustrations and increase my unnatural hunger. Admittedly there had been the occasional liaisons, but they had all been short lived and somewhat lacking. They had given me physical release, but without real satisfaction.
About six months after Jenna's eighteenth birthday I was leafing idly through an IT magazine, when I spotted an advertisement by a security company specialising in hidden cameras and listening devices. I hadn't given it much thought at the time, but a few days later Jenna and her friend Rhianna had emerged from my daughter's room wearing open terry cloth robes over bikinis, telling me they were off to the beach. I had never until then had the opportunity to really notice how superbly Jenna's figure had developed, and for the first time I saw her as a woman, rather than as my little girl. And it made me want to see more.
As the days passed my mind kept returning to the possibilities offered by a concealed camera. It was out of the question that it would go beyond looking, and she would never know, so I really didn't see that there was any harm in it. The problem facing me though was even if I could somehow get hold of one of these outlandishly expensive devices, where could I hide it? Her room seemed the most obvious place, but she was seldom in there for longer than it took her to change or prepare for bed, and then there was the additional problem of where to conceal a camera to give the best angle for the longest possible time.
I thought I saw a solution when, for the umpteenth time Jenna bemoaned the lack of a decent sized mirror. The cogs in my head went into overdrive, and I suggested we go together to choose one as an early gift for her nineteenth birthday, and I turned mental cartwheels when she readily agreed. My hopes took a tumble when we arrived at the store, because Jenna selected a pivoting cheval style mirror with a plain steel frame, which provided nowhere to conceal even the tiniest camera. In a flash of inspiration I mentioned casually that since we were looking, we may as well choose another mirror for the bathroom, and to my delight she pointed out a large elaborately embellished wall mirror that had been heavily discounted. This was the one I had just gloatingly mounted and installed a tiny camera in.
An hour after I finished setting everything up I heard the front door slam, and switching off my monitor but leaving my computer on, I hurried out to greet my daughter. "Hi Daddy," she said cheerfully as she kissed me chastely on the lips. "how was your day?"
"It was good sweetheart. I took the day off work and managed to get the mirror fitted in the bathroom. Want to take a look and give me your approval?" I grinned, swatting her bottom playfully. Following her into the bathroom I held my breath, praying she wouldn't notice the camera, but she merely stood looking at her reflection and smoothing her blouse over her breasts. I exhaled slowly, unable to tear my eyes away. How come I had never really noticed before now how well she filled out her blouse?
She must have noticed my stare, because she gave me a good natured grin and pushed me towards the door. "OK you dirty ol' man," she teased. "Out of here. I'm going to take a shower before dinner."
She followed me out, heading to her room to collect her robe, and I hurried into my own room, waiting until I heard the bathroom door close before I fired up my monitor. Delayed guilt flared up as I stared fixedly at my screen. I knew it was wrong to want to see my daughter naked, but if she didn't know, what harm could it do? Fifteen feet away in reality, but less than three feet away on my screen, I watched my beautiful daughter studying her reflection as she slipped out of her blouse, and slowly took off her bra. A lump came into my throat when she cupped her superb young boobs in her hands, her pert nipples peeking out between her fingers. They were even more perfect than I had ever imagined, standing out so firmly from her ribcage that I couldn't help but think she wore a bra more from modesty than for support. After a moment she pushed her jeans and panties off together, standing totally nude and stroking her hand slowly across her abundant bush.
Even as my cock stiffened I felt a small twinge of disappointment. I had always known of course that her boobs would grow, but irrationally it hadn't occurred to me that her pubic hairs would also grow, and now they were effectively concealing the one thing I most wanted to see. My disappointment faded as my imagination compensated, and as she turned her back to step into the shower, almost without realising I pulled my cock out and started stroking to the forbidden thoughts that were racing through my mind. For so long I had dreamed of seeing her in all her naked glory, but that was as far as it went. Now as I sat with my hard tool in my hand, I knew that seeing her on a screen was no longer enough, although I also knew that no matter how much I wished, I would never have more than I had now.
I had tried countless times and in countless devious ways to see what I had just seen, and all had met with dismal failure, so I accepted the impossibility of more and concentrated on her beautifully rounded bottom behind the rapidly misting glass of the shower door. Finally she stepped from the shower, and my heart thudded in my chest as she approached the mirror again. Her wet pubes were plastered to her inner thighs, affording a partial view of her pouting lower lips and just the barest hint of her tiny clit. This was all it took to send me over the edge, and I hastily grabbed the first thing I could get hold of to catch the strings of thick cum that spurted uncontrollably from my throbbing cock, not realising until too late that it was a tee shirt that Jenna had bought to say thanks for the mirror.
Filled with self disgust at my actions, I switched off my computer and headed to the kitchen to cook dinner. Despite how I felt about myself, I knew that wild horses couldn't drag me from my computer next time my beautiful daughter took her evening shower, and I searched through the kitchen drawers for an old tea towel to unload into.
Every evening for the rest of the week, and all the following week I jerked off as I watched her strip and shower, licking my lips at the way her firm young tits bounced and jiggled with every movement, whilst all the time desperately hoping in vain for a clearer view of her teenage pussy. The lust in my throbbing cock completely overrode any guilt I felt about the forbidden urge to bury my length in my daughter's sweet eighteen year old snatch. When Friday came around, she greeted me with the usual chaste kiss, and announced. "Don't bother with dinner for me tonight Daddy. I'm going out for a while so I'll grab a hamburger on the way, but I won't be late."
As she prepared for her shower, I eagerly took up my usual position, cock in one hand and tea towel spread across my lap in front of my screen. What happened next was so sudden and unexpected I thought my senses had deserted me. Sitting nude on a chair in front of the mirror, Jenna took some scissors and ruthlessly attacked her luxuriant bush. Snip by careful snip her slit was revealed to my greedy eyes, and I began to rub my tool like there was no tomorrow. Right in front of my disbelieving eyes, she lathered up her stubble and started to shave, placing a protective finger over her clit. My cock throbbed and my cum shot out with such force that I completely missed the spread tea towel, and I heard a 'splat' as it hit the top of my shoe.
