POP's first adventure "The Beginning" will give you a background of both my personal and the characters life. Although each adventure will be a standalone unless otherwise stated, you may benefit from starting from the beginning.
POP is an acronym for Perverted Old Photographer. That is me. I am an actual photographer, I shoot wildlife, landscape, pets, and models. I hate shooting babies or weddings. Do not ask me why, I just do. Some stories will be based on my life with my cameras. Some will purely be fantasies I put on paper. Which is real, which is fantasy, that is for me to know and you to wonder.
Hopefully, POP will have multiple adventures. Let us see how well Pop's adventures are received. I wanted to lay a foundation and then build from there.
I do my own editing through Microsoft Word. This is my work. Photography and now stories are my avenue of artistic expression. I hope to get better with the stories. I hope someday to integrate my photography with my stories. We shall see.
For those telling me to get an editor here on Literotica, I've contacted numerous editors and none have the time for my stories.
Anonymous readers, I appreciate you taking the time to read my work, but I made a decision not to allow any anonymous accounts to leave comments as the first couple stories, although some anons had legitimate and helpful comments, most weren't.
No one underage has sex in this story.
Again, it is a STORY. Not real life, or was it?
I give literotica.com permission to print.
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POP and the Angry Mom
CHAPER 1
As I mentioned in "The beginning," I fell in love with a camera at a very early age. If it was not for my dad's stints in Korea and Vietnam, how cheap the electronics were, I might not have fallen in love with photography. The rest they say is history.
By my senior year I was the main photographer for my school paper and did many graduation shoots for my fellow students. This is my introduction to my first older woman, one that would shape my life and teach me the subtleties of making sweet love to a woman. All this because she was pissed off!
Early springtime was hectic during senior year. Students are narrowing down their list of acceptance letters from the colleges they applied to. The senior prom is on the horizon, arrangements and reservations made. Graduation party scheduled and party invites sent out. Even trivial things like what after parties to be decided on. You know, a lot of pimpled face adolescents take a three on the anxiety level and by being an adolescent it becomes a ten.
Then the all-encompassing decision that will forever change your entire life, who do you take to your senior prom? If you are not going steady, will you take your neighbor you are lifelong friends with, which means still a virgin after prom, or the slutty girl that is a guarantee?
I was one of the few that did not give a rat's ass one way or the other about the prom. I wasn't going steady, and I'd be damned if I was going to blow hundreds of dollars on someone I had no feelings for just to "experience" senior prom. I had enough stress with all the appointments and scheduling the graduation shoots.
I was sitting in my kitchen eating a sandwich when the phone rang. My ham lunch interrupted when mom handed me the phone.
"Hello, this is Randy, with whom am I speaking to?" My dad was a lifer in the army, and protocol was high up on his list. If you answered the phone, it was to be, "Smith's residence, with whom am I speaking with?" or if my mom handed to one of us it was the hello, this is Randy or my siblings name and then the with whom baloney. The other protocol in the Smith's household was you are not allowed to wear a hat in the house. Twenty-two years in the US Army had disciplined my dad to never wear a hat in a building. Many times I was yelled at for that breach of protocol! I swore when I was out on my own the first thing I would do, put a hat on in my house.
Later when I had my own place, I was wearing a hat in the house when my mom and dad visited, it did not stay on my head long after my dad barked the order, "Do we wear hats in the house young man?" I guess you could call it a Pavlovian response, I immediately took the hat off. I respected my dad too much to argue about the hat.
"Hey Randy, this is Jennifer Watson, how are you doing?"
"I'm doing well, how about yourself?"
Now Jennifer Watson was one of the senior cheerleaders and was smoking hot. If you looked up smoking hot blonde with big ole titties in the encyclopedia, there would be a picture of Jennifer. She and I have talked in the past, but we did not run at the same level of social status. She dated the quarterback, I took photos of the quarterback throwing the game winning touchdown pass, not the same level of importance. Nobody high fived me when the school paper came out and I had a perfect shot of Derrick releasing the game winning pass. Damn, he was so cool he made it look like he was posing for the photo while linebackers were bearing down on him. Several of my sports photos were used in the local papers, but again, they only emphasized how awesome Derrick was.
"Randy, the reason I am calling, my mom wants to have you shoot my graduation photos. I told her that you are terribly busy and understand if you don't have time for her idea.
"What is her idea, Jennifer?"
"She wants to have my shoot at Snow Bunny Resort."
"That would be nice, there are multiple locations up there that would be perfect. But it is three hours away, that is going to be an exceptionally long day."
"I know, I told her that. I told her you might not have the time."
"Jennifer, it is not about time only. I can be available for you and your mom if that is where you want the shoot. We would need to start planning it now as graduation will be here before we know it. Also, I have senior prom shoots coming up."
"I will talk with my mom. Better yet, if you are free some evening, you can come over and discuss this with mom and I."
"I am open Thursday night, does that sound good?"
"Hold on, let me find out." Jennifer put her hand over the phone, but I could still hear her calling out to her mom. After that it was too muffled to hear what was said. "Randy, mom said Thursday will be good."
Jennifer gave me her address and we planned the meeting for 6 o'clock. I was told that her mom was making dinner, and she would not take no for an answer.
Thursday evening, I was there ten minutes early. I noticed that Derrick's 1970 Chevelle SS was in the driveway. Now I am not intimidated very easily. At 6'2" tall, a lean 200 pounds of muscles and a student of the martial arts, gives a young man confidence. Derrick and I have never been friends, frankly he is a stuck-up asshole that thinks he is better than everyone because his family has money and again, he is the star quarterback. He is not much bigger than I am, and it upsets him that I don't bow at the throne of Derrick the great.
I am thinking, great, if he involved in this discussion tonight or the shoot, I may just let them know that I must turn this gig down.
I walk up to the front door and Jennifer opens the door before I have a chance to knock. "Hi Randy, I'm glad you could make it."
"I am glad to be here Jennifer, I did not know you lived in this neighborhood. This house is huge."
"Mr. Watson is a corporate lawyer; he's not going to live in a neighborhood like yours." I heard from behind Jennifer. "Derrick be nice," said Jennifer. I did not even acknowledge what Derrick said, which I think made him angry.
Then I saw her, Mrs. Watson. Now I know where Jennifer gets her looks from, her mother was gorgeous. A mature version of Jennifer with bigger breasts and Marilyn Monroe curves. All I can think of while she was walking up to me was, "Don't you dare get a boner!"
I know it was corny, but when you have just turned eighteen, not much experience with the opposite sex, you are not exactly the smoothest talker in the world. "Hello, you must be Jennifer's older sister." Mrs. Watson giggled. "I am Jennifer's mother, and flattery will get you everywhere." We laughed, except for Derrick who was on the couch just staring at me.
Dinner was great. We had to start without Mr. Watson as he was late. From our conversation he was late often. We were almost done with the spaghetti dinner when Jennifer's dad got home. Mrs. Watson got up to get his plate ready and all I heard from the kitchen was, "Don't bother, I already ate." "You knew we were having company tonight and you couldn't bother to grace us with your presence?" There were more back and forth muted words, mostly indistinguishable. I looked at Jennifer and could tell that she was visibly embarrassed.
"So, Jennifer," trying to change the mood while her parents were having their discussion, "have you and your mom come up with ideas for the shoot?"
"Yes, mom and I came up with some ideas we were going to suggest. We know it is a three-hour drive and rather than do this all in one day, we were thinking about going up Friday and staying for the weekend." She saw the look on my face, I could not afford to stay at the resort. I will just have to make an excuse to drive up early and come back late on that Saturday.
Derrick laughed, "A little too rich for your blood Ran?"
"My name is Randal or Randy to you."
"Derrick, quit it!"
Just then Mrs. Watson came in and you could tell her eyes were red and puffy. She must have been crying. Shortly thereafter Mr. Watson followed her. He sat at his place setting and asked Derrick, "So have you sent your commitment letter in yet?" Ignoring me.
"My dad wants me at State, but I haven't decided yet."
