Photographer son, designer sister and model mom

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We scooted our chairs in tight working side-by-side, the lights in the room dimmed so as not to cast a glare on our screen.

“Here we go,” I said more to myself. “Okay, there are… just over 2,500 photos in total so this may take some time.”

Kelly whistled. “Wow, that many?”

I nodded, my focus locked on the screen. “Yup. You had a lot of looks.” I scrolled up to the first. “What I normally do is quickly scan through the images and flag those that look promising. That way we can thin out what we want to work with. Sound good?” I looked at her. The side of her face was illuminated with a soft pale glow, enhancing her soft pale skin. She looked to me, biting her lower lip with excitement and nodded.

“All-righty then… here we go.”

We scoured through the photos, reading one after the other with the most incredible scrutiny. Kelly blew me away, tackling the project with intense professionalism. She was proud of her work, and it showed. We worked like a team devouring each and every one. Approving one out of every ten. It wasn’t that the other nine were horrible, even though some of them mom would find infinitely embarrassing, it’s just that the other ones were nowhere near as good as those that we kept, the ones that looked like they had fallen right off a magazine page. And though the clothing was the event, the main attraction was without a doubt, our model.

She looked so natural, so playful, provocative and alluring. Never would I have guessed this was her first go around. She looked like a puppet freed from strings, opening up in ways I hadn’t seen since childhood, if ever at all.

We landed on a picture of her standing in the surf sporting a yellow sun dress with the skirt cut just below mid thigh. It was flapper inspired with a low cut in the back, but that was hidden from camera. A breeze had kicked up and she had bent to stop the dress from blowing up. Eyes sparkling like the water behind her, with a large smile as she laughed.

“She wears those clothes well.” I thought, and then suddenly realized I had said it out loud.

“Yes she does,” Kelly almost whispered. Her mind seemed to be taking her elsewhere, just like my own. “To be honest with you, most of those are made with her in mind.”

“I can tell.” I flagged it and moved on. “Alright, first batch done. Now, onto the swimsuits.”

“About damn time,” Kelly said. I couldn’t help but look at her. “…What?” she asked.

Shaking my head, I clicked the next photo.

For the most part, the emotions these shots elicited remained the same as those previous. However, there was a slight and subtle shift in the atmosphere. Her smiles were still there, yet it was almost as if their meaning had methodically changed. From joy to seduction. I had not been aware of the time how well she was obeying my suggestions, for though there was still the element of flirtatiousness, what first appeared to be someone out at the beach, turn now to the feeling of prey who lures you in.

I’d like to say we were more forgiving on these photos, but that’s not the case. If anything our intent was to be more scrupulous, straining and searching for flaws. But the further in we got, the more distracted we became. After a short period time, we were so enthralled by the images; we forgot to flag them and continued clicking from one to another. Before we knew it, we stumbled across her leaning over in the light blue bikini for our hungry eyes.

Our eyes lingered on the screen, held captive by the sultry nature of the image. Her ass was presented to us in glorious detail, separated only by a thin blue sheet of fabric that did little to hide the shape of her sex. My breathing had deepened as I took her in, stared into her eyes that stared back at me. I felt like I had been wrapped in a blanket of lust. My pulse quickened and senses peaked as I felt a rush of blood travel to my groin.

“Jason are you sure you’ve never done boudoir before?” Kelly asked her voice heavy.

I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive.”

She swallowed. “I think you need to give it a shot.” I could feel her breath as she leaned in closer. “Jesus, just look at her,” she whispered. “If I was a dude, I’d be all over that.”

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