Chapter 511: Fuzzy Little Peach
I didn't need her to say anything to know she was mortified, but then I saw it—that split-second change in her expression. She froze, her hands slowly lowering as her eyes went wide with something else entirely.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going through her head and I could practically see the thoughts whirling through as she fought against the mental image forming in her mind.
Your journey continues on empire
Bella froze, her thoughts spiraling as the image took hold, unbidden and vivid.
Her mother stood in her mind's eye, a picture of timeless grace and beauty. Her figure was striking—tall, statuesque, with long legs that met at wide, inviting hips. The hourglass form was breathtaking, drawing attention effortlessly to the full, perky swell of her breasts, round and firm, seeming almost too perfect to be real.
Her skin appeared smooth, luminous, like polished porcelain under soft light, unblemished and radiant. Her hair, neatly styled, gave her an air of elegance even in such an imagined vulnerable state.
Yet it was the detail below her waist that had seized Bella's mind—the carefully crafted heart shape trimmed just above her mound. The hair was dark and fine, perfectly contoured into the playful symbol.
It wasn't something crude or vulgar, but rather oddly meticulous, as though it had been done with precision, a personal joke carried out with surprising artistry.
Bella's breath caught as the image refused to fade, the vividness of it making her blush deepen. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but picture every fine detail, from the gleam of her mother's smooth skin to the contrast of that dark heart against her pale flesh.
The thought alone made her squirm internally, mortified at the intimate nature of what her mind had conjured.
"Ugh, gross!" Bella groaned, pressing her hands to her temples like she was trying to physically force the thought out of her head. "Why did you have to say that, Daddy?! Now I can't stop picturing it!"
I couldn't help but laugh, her reaction being pure gold. "Hey, you came to me with this awkward favor." I said, grinning wider. "You've gotta expect a little teasing in return." Her glare shot my way, but it was weak, more flustered than angry.
"You're the worst." She muttered under her breath, clearly still fighting the mental image.
I shrugged, still chuckling. "At least now you know where you got your creative side from."
"Shut up!" She snapped, her blush deepening as she tried to hide her face behind her hands again, but the way her fingers fidgeted nervously only made me laugh harder. Honestly, I didn't even need to keep teasing her—her imagination was already doing all the work for me.
Bella's frustration then reached a boiling point.
She threw her hands up in exasperation, her voice sharp and edged with lingering embarrassment as she said, "Are you helping or not? Because if you're just going to sit there and keep laughing, I'll figure it out myself! Even if I end up cutting myself again, I don't care!"
My grin disappeared in an instant, my expression shifting from teasing to serious. "Whoa, okay, let's not go there." I leaned forward, my voice dropping lower. "You don't need another cut down there because of some half-baked plan...Trust me, it's not worth it."
Bella's face turned crimson, my words making her heart thud painfully in her chest. "Another cut?!" She stammered, trying to glare at him but failing miserably, her flustered state ruining any chance of appearing intimidating.
"Yeah, we don't want you to create another opening along with the already existing slit." I repeated smoothly, though my lips twitched like I was holding back another laugh. I then sighed and said, "Fine, I'll help you. But if I'm going to do it right, I need to see what I'm working with first." I pointed downward casually. "So go on, lower your pants...Show me the bush that's grown, that you're so scared of "
Bella's face flushed again, but this time, it wasn't the same kind of flustered panic I'd expected.
She hesitated only for a moment, her fingers lingering at the waistband of her jeans, before she let out a quiet, resigned sigh.
Guess she figured there wasn't much point in making a scene. After all, I'd seen her bare plenty befor—this wasn't exactly uncharted territory.
Still, something about the way she moved now felt different. Slower, more deliberate. Her fingers worked the button loose with a soft click, then slid down the zipper. The faint sound seemed louder in the silence between us, a subtle reminder of how close we were.
With a smooth, fluid motion, she pushed her jeans down, revealing the pale, unblemished length of her slender legs. Her skin caught the dim light, glowing faintly, every curve and line of her thighs perfectly defined. Long and graceful, her legs looked impossibly soft, the kind of soft you'd want to run your fingers over just to see if they felt as silky as they looked.
Her jeans pooled around her ankles, and she straightened, standing there in nothing but her white panties. The stark contrast of the bright fabric against her pale skin made the sight even more striking.
Bella stood still, her jeans tangled around her ankles, and though she tried to keep her composure, I caught the subtle way her fingers fidgeted nervously at her sides. Her white panties clung snugly to her hips, the soft fabric a stark contrast against her pale skin, accentuating her natural curves.
Despite how many times I'd seen her like this before, there was something different about this moment—something more raw, more vulnerable.
Her gaze flickered toward me, hesitant and uncertain. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to begin. Finally, after a moment's pause, she spoke, her voice quieter usual, carrying a coy undertone that was rare for her. "You're...not going to make fun of me, are you?" Her eyes dropped slightly, and a faint flush crept back into her cheeks. "Since, you know, it doesn't look the same anymore...a-as there's some hair now."
The vulnerability in her voice caught me off guard. She wasn't just embarrassed—she was worried. Worried about what I'd think, worried I'd be put off somehow.
I could see it in the way she wouldn't quite meet my eyes, her fingers tugging lightly at the hem of her shirt as if seeking some sort of comfort.
I smiled, not the teasing kind she probably expected, but something softer, warmer. Stepping a little closer, I spoke gently, my tone reassuring. "Bella, that's just a sign of my little girl growing up." I kept my eyes steady on hers, letting her see that there wasn't even a hint of discomfort or judgment in me. "There's no way I'd be put off by something so natural. So, you really don't have to worry about stuff like that and can leave the rest to me."
For a second, she didn't say anything. She just stared at me, her wide eyes searching my face as if trying to figure out whether I really meant it.
And then slowly, I saw the tension ease from her shoulders, the nervous fidgeting of her fingers coming to a stop. That faint flush on her cheeks didn't fade, but it softened, becoming something closer to warmth than embarrassment.
"You really mean that?" She asked, her voice still tentative but no longer as uncertain.
"Of course I do." I replied, my smile widening just a bit. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about...Besides, it probably suits you since your mother always looks quite sexy with that perfectly trimmed bush of hers."
Her lips twitched, fighting back a smile of her own, and I could tell my words had the effect I wanted. She wasn't completely at ease yet, but the worst of her nerves had passed, replaced by something softer—something more trusting.
"Okay." She murmured quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, but steady enough.
Her hands trembled slightly as they hooked under the thin waistband of her panties. The soft fabric clung for a moment before slipping down, inch, hy inch, revealing the delicate curve of her hips.
Between the soft curve of her thighs lay her delicate pussy, framed by a faint patch of fine, downy hair. The pale fuzz was sparse but noticeable, a light shade blending naturally with her creamy skin, adding an unfiltered beauty to the sight before me. The gentle folds beneath were smooth, tender in appearance, their subtle pink hue peeking through with a quiet, graceful allure.
She shifted slightly, perhaps out of lingering nerves, the faint fuzz catching the light just enough to draw attention to its natural softness. She seemed restless, betraying the tension she was still holding, yet she didn't hide herself—only stood there, bare and vulnerable, waiting for some sort of response.
I met her gaze, letting a small, warm smile curve my lips as I said, "Bella, that little bit of fuzz...it's nothing to worry about. It's just another sign of you growing into yourself." My voice stayed gentle, reassuring. "You're beautiful—every part of you."
Her eyes softened slightly at my words, the tension in her shoulders easing bit by bit as warmth crept into her expression. She didn't say anything right away, but the faint blush spreading across her cheeks told me everything I needed to know.
Ding~
[The God of Health Fiona sends a request: Shave your daughter's little undergrowth]
[Successfully fulfill the request and gain the Gods satisfaction and approval]
[Fail the given request and be bestowed upon every ailment the world has to offer]