Mother poses for her son

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Next he had me shuffle back so my legs were straight out on the table. He clicked away as he had me turn my head and body various ways. “Raise your left knee half way, foot on the table …” Click. “Bit of thigh …” Click, click. “Knee right up …” he pulled a little at the folds of my skirt. Click. “Pop the bottom two buttons of your skirt, Mum.” I did so, allowing my thigh to be exposed to half way. “Magic …” He moved around, clicking the camera. “Roll onto your tummy. Elbows on the table and prop your chin in your hands …” Click. “Bend your right knee. That’s it, all the way …” Click. “Hands on the table, arch your back. Yes, head back, stretch …” Click. “One foot up …” Click. “Both feet …” Click, click. “Damn!”

I looked over to him with a query. “Card’s full! Let me go and upload these onto my computer. Want to see them?”

I sure did want to see how they had turned out so I followed him to his room. I sat at his shoulder as we went through the pictures. A few of them weren’t too good but mostly they were very clear.

“You’re a good model, Mum,” he commented as he clicked through the shots. Then I froze at a couple of the pictures – where I was on my back with my knee raised. Right up my dress showing all my thighs with my white pants clearly visible. “Andy,” I exclaimed, “they’re indecent.”

“Pshaw, Mum, you show much more when you’re in your bikini. Is that indecent?”

“Hmm,” I murmured, non-comittedly and watched as the rest of the pictures clicked through. Near the end of the sequence, I noticed that I was showing a lot of cleavage and in two shots my bra was also on show. Again I protested and again he said if it were my bikini, it would be OK, so what’s the difference? “Besides,” he said, “you have a lovely figure, you’re a super model and it’s only you and me seeing these.”

I was stumped and could only mutter that underwear was different, somehow. But secretly I had enjoyed myself acting as his model, even when I knew he was seeing my undies and I was flattered by his compliments so when he suggested I change into something different and we shoot some more I readily agreed.

~~~oOo~~~

But what to wear? Well, I thought, if he’s going to photograph my underwear, that plain white cotton was out. I looked through my wardrobe and selected a cream silk shirt and a flowered cotton button-through skirt. I felt myself tingle at the thought of popping some of the six buttons. I had a positively sinful black lacy half-cup bra and matching panties. I knew my areolas and nipples could be made out through the thin material. I dressed in these and decided to put a little make-up on to colour my face.

I hesitated for a moment with my hand on the handle of the bedroom door, wondering just what I was doing then decided I was enjoying myself so I opened the door and ventured out into the garden. Andy was there waiting for me with a couple of bottles of wine in a wine bucket with ice in and he held out a fresh glass of wine which I gulped down in almost indecent haste and handed him my glass for a refill.

He had me pose in several innocent positions using the wine glass as a prop then, “OK, Mum. Stand there and put your foot on the table as if you were a dancer practicing at the barre. Good – point your toes.” He clicked away from several angles. “Lean forward …” Click. “Further – hold your ankle …” Click, click. “Can you hold it there?” I assured him I could. He moved to my side and started opening the buttons of my skirt. One, two, three, four – open all the way to just short of my crotch. Did his hand accidentally brush me there as he re-arranged the folds? If so it was just briefly.

He took several pictures from various angles including a couple which were clearly focussed on my pants. By now my standing leg was aching: when I mentioned it, he told me to relax for a while. He poured out more wine and we sat for a few minutes sipping at it.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked Andy.

“Oh, yes,” he grinned. “You’re a super model, with really nice legs and a good figure. Are you enjoying it? Do you mind me photographing your knickers?”

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