Adult Photoshoot with Mom

The first thing I notice are her lips. Lush and full. They're killer with that bold red lipstick. Her red hair is like fire, shoulder length with waves. I'm guessing she's in her 40's, which is older than my normal clientele, but I can still see her being a model in some way.

I'm alone in my studio because it's lunch hour. This is Beverly Hills where it's normal to have striking women come through these doors. When she approaches, her smile is brilliant. Nude model? Doesn't seem like her personality. A news anchor is more likely, with a real television smile if I've ever seen one.

She offers a handshake.

"Hi, my name is Elena, we spoke briefly on the phone days ago."

"Ah, right. I'm CJ, the owner of this humble establishment."

"Glad to meet you," she says. "I had extra time during lunch and wanted to check out the studio."

"Let me guess, news anchor?"

She laughs. "I get that a lot. No. Actually, I own a dental practice."

"That explains the perfect set of teeth. So what brings you here?"

"I'm interested in updating my professional headshots. I know you typically work with fashion models, but I'm happy to pay."

She's right, fashion models are what pays the bills around here. I give her a lookover. I brush her hair aside. Her makeup game is on point. The woman is a beauty and I'm wondering what she's doing working at a dental practice.

"Yeah, we can figure something out," I say. "You missed your calling. You could have been a model. Maybe that can still happen."

"Flattering. I did modeling work in my younger days to help pay for college."

"Why did you stop?"

"A career in finance seemed more stable."

"Now you're in the dental industry."

She nods. "My late husband started a successful dental practice, I managed the place, when he passed I became the sole owner. My son finished dental school recently and works there. I'm hoping he becomes the owner someday."

"A family business. How nice."

"Hopefully it'll stay that way. Business slowed when my husband passed. He was the driving force. You know how it is. A friend suggested updating my portfolio. That's why I'm here."

I reach out and fluff her hair. The style is good, but not professional grade. I can tell she goes to a local salon and pays standard rates. Yeah, there's potential here. I should comfort her over the loss of her husband, but that's not my place. Helping her earn more money is what's appropriate.

"Let's see what we can cook up," I say. "Interested in some quick test shots? After that we'll make an appointment. I'll have my stylist work magic on you."

"That would be amazing."

My studio looks like a warehouse, tall ceiling, the infrastructure and electric wiring on display. I love how gritty it looks. There are stations for makeup, different backdrops and lighting equipment, and expensive cameras all around. Make no mistake about it, stars have been made here.

Elena stands in front of a light gray backdrop. I grab a 35 mm film camera and start shooting, nothing fancy, just gauging her comfort level and what lighting works best for her. Exactly as I thought. The woman is a natural. She tosses her shoulder-length red hair and smiles. Glorious.

That smile. God. The pouty curves on those lips. I can imagine scores of women going to plastic surgeons with a picture of Elena, saying, 'I want what she's got.' And those teeth. They gleam under the studio lights. Flashing those pearly whites would do wonders for her business.

Her movements stop, the smile ends.

"Is it easy to find modeling gigs?" she asks. "You know, for someone my age."

"How old are you?"

"I turn 46 in a few months."

"Modeling gigs come and go. I can make inquiries if you're serious."

"I just might be. Being in front of the camera again makes me feel alive."

"Some people are born of this. You certainly have the lips."

xxx

Over a typical month I correspond with at least 100 people. Models, agents, different businesses, inquiries that never lead anywhere. You can imagine how time consuming the process is. On hot nights like these I prefer being nude in my apartment bedroom with the window open. While answering emails at my desk, I see an offer from a friend who specializes in adult-themed products.

He professes his love for Elena's professional headshots and wants to work with her. I look at the products and their description. We bounce emails back and forth. Elena would never go for this but the man is persistent.

My phone rings, it's him, and he gets straight to the point.

"I must have that woman," Diego says.

"With these products, are you serious?"

"Lubrication and penis cream. As wholesome as it gets, sweetheart."

What I love about Diego is that he's a consummate businessman. A bit of a sleaze, but a businessman nonetheless. There's a reason he drives around in a sports car and wears expensive jewelry, it's because he makes dozens of calls per day, constantly on the hustle.

The product will be advertised alongside pornography over in Japan where natural red hair is unique. Apparently red-haired white women are a thing over there. Good taste if you ask me.

"At least talk to Elena about this, please," he says. "Will you do me that favor?"

"She'll never go for it. But thanks for calling."

"Trust me, sweetheart, ladies will do anything if the price is right."

"I'll let her know about the offer."

"Can you also ask about her son?"

"In what way?"

"Joining the shoot," he says.

"With penis cream involved?"

"His penis."

"Been drinking?" I ask. "Goodnight, we'll talk tomorrow."

"No, wait, wait, wait, I'm serious. Elena could make big money from that. Huge money. I'll get commission. You'll get commission. Everyone's happy."

"Money from who? What maniac would pay for such a thing?"

"Japanese hot shots. They'll blur most of Elena's face for the marketing of their products, they just want that smile and red hair. And they'll pay for exclusives, the good stuff. Real stuff is popular over there."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"I'll send more info, okay? Let me make a few calls, shoot a few emails. Get the numbers worked out. Got it?"

Adult modeling and light pornography are in my wheelhouse -- sometimes. If the price is right. But this? Fetish content is something I've always steered away from.

"Fine, send it over."

"Ah, great. Work your charm talking to her, okay?"

They say everyone has a price, I guess this is mine. My nipples turn rock hard.

x

Elena swings by the studio as things are settling down late afternoon. 19 year-old twins have finished a photoshoot, both looking to break into commercials, paid for by their father. My stylist is helping to remove their makeup and outfits so they look 'regular' again before leaving.

I pull her aside so we can talk in private, away from my other employees and models.

"Full disclosure," I say. "There's a substantial commission for me. That's why I'm telling you about this fucked up offer. You're going to laugh."

"Well, I've already come all this way."

"$50,000 for starters. Potential bonuses. Your identity will be concealed, they love your smile and red hair."

Penis creams, lotions, a company in Japan and dealing with their business men. I explain everything to Elena the same way it was explained to me. I emphasize that she'll be anonymous, which helps to calm her, but the sexual parts keep her on edge. Her arms are crossed tight which is always a telling sign. But her eyes are engaged, hanging on my every word.

"And I'm expected to pose with a young male?" she asks.

"That's non-negotiable. They want a male model included. Do you have a young guy in your life? Someone you're seeing on the side?"

"I'm not seeing anyone. My whole life is making sure the business stays afloat."

"There's more to the offer. This is the part that'll make you cringe."

"Sure."

"If you do this with your son, you'll be paid a large bonus. The executives want certain things for their private collection. You can figure out what they want."

The ultimate irony is that Elena's blue eyes have never looked so beautiful. They shine with a kind of innocence, floored by the nature of the offer. She knows exactly what I'm talking about and she's not turning this down. It goes to show how much she needs the money.

"Does this conversation stay between us?" she asks.

"Yes, of course."

Elena looks around, making sure the others in my studio are still busy talking, that her personal secrets will remain safe with me. I was positive Elena would refuse the offer, but it seems she's more complex than I ever could have imagined.

x

Some years ago her family moved into a new home in the Beverly Hills area. This was back when her husband was around, when interest rates were low and her son had started college. They'd always wanted a pool as it represented moving up in the world.

It wasn't long until Elena sunbathed by the pool, a book in hand, often classic literature or a modern crime novel, laying on a lounge chair, and then taking a dip in the water. During warmer days the family would grill lunch in the backyard and eat on the patio beneath a large umbrella for shade. Her wearing a breezy top and shorts, maybe a sundress, always barefoot, thinking nothing of it.

Sex with her husband felt reinvigorated after being together for so long. His upward career path, their new home, Elena's renewed interest with yoga and fitness, had all contributed to higher libidos and a new spark in the bedroom.

What she hadn't counted on was rousing another flame in the household. Months into living there she noticed the upstairs curtain move after she rose from the lounge chair, preparing for a dip into the pool. On that day she wore a bikini and her body was slathered in sunscreen. Shining from the moisture. She thought nothing of it.

But it happened again a week later, then every so often during weekends. When they'd have a family lunch in the backyard, she noticed her son's eyes glancing at her chest, especially on days she went scantily clad. It didn't offend her. If anything she thought it was amusing. At a certain age, getting attention from younger men feels nice, even if that attention comes from her son.

It was never overt or lewd, more on the innocent side of things.

At night she told her husband about the poolside voyeurism after they'd had sex. Pillow talk. Her husband thought it was funny as she had expected. Their sexual relationship from the beginning was based on honesty, sharing their innermost thoughts and curiosities. Revealing that their son was spying on her was nothing different.

One night, when they were in a frisky mood, it was her husband who suggested leaving the door open. The home was reasonably sized and Elena tended to be loud if the orgasm was good. It was mischievous, it was daring, and she was horny enough to agree to such an audacious thing. So she left their bedroom door open and they had an amazing night of sex. She managed to keep the noises down, but it was a challenge.

They did that a few more times before the husband's unfortunate passing. Only when the mood called for it, when they needed that extra spice in their love life. They'd think about their son listening, and what she never told her husband, what she never thought she'd tell a soul, was that she imagined her son jacking off to the noises. That's what made her cum the most while making love to her husband.

x

Our conversation comes to a halt when the two young models approach. They shake my hand, apologizing for interrupting the conversation, and thank me profusely for the amazing picture set. Elena stands aside with her arms crossed and head down. She's never revealed this to anyone, it shames her.

The young women leave and Elena looks me in the eyes.

"Now you have a better understanding," she says.

If I'm reading her body language right, there's something about the offer that stimulates her in ways she can't understand. She could be aroused but not know it, which is a common thing for women who do nude photoshoots. Fear can hide the arousal. It's only afterward that they masturbate to what they've done, after the anxiety has passed.

I wouldn't be shocked if doing this with her son triggers memories of her late husband. I wouldn't even be shocked if the father and son looked alike. There are so many angles to this that I'm curious about, but asking doesn't seem appropriate.

"You understand the deal, right?"

She nods. "Yes."

"Do you need more time to think?"

"To be honest, I need the money. The dental practice has been operating on losses for months."

"Then we better get started soon."

"Have you done this before?"

"I'm experienced with adult photography. Never fetish stuff, though."

She takes a deep gulp and fixes her posture, standing upright and firm. She looks me straight in the eyes to project confidence.

"I'll ask my son tonight. Then I'll let you know."

"Sounds good. I know it's a ton of money, but honestly, you've got to think about family first. A lot would change. Maybe I shouldn't have told you about this offer."

"No, no, that's okay. I'm glad you told me. Earning this money would... well... I want the business to survive. And I want my son taking over."

She wipes away a tear and smiles. I can guarantee that her pussy is wet.

xxx

Her home is located on the outskirts of the Beverly Hills area. It's more on the residential side, with smaller homes, as opposed to where celebrities live. It's a charming place with cozy interior and a well-manicured garden. The pool glimmers under the sunlight.

A DSLR camera hangs around my neck while I scope the backyard for the best shots. Standing by the pool, I can see Tyler's bedroom window where he'd previously spied on his mother. That does something to me. To be honest, this was never my fetish, but I masturbated a few times thinking of Elena's story.

When my stylist is done with her, Elena steps outside and she damn near looks like a movie star. The touch ups to her hair and makeup are remarkable. Curling irons and hair products create the perfect wavy texture to Elena's red hair. Blonde streaks add a subtle punch. The bold red lipstick accentuates her full lips.

"An absolute killer," I say.

"Only if you insist."

When the stylist leaves, my focus is only on Elena, who's hesitant and aroused for the shoot. Her hands are fidgeting. The woman is a natural in front of the camera but this is a different league of exposure. Some of the money has already been transferred to her bank account, so she has great incentive to keep going.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Nauseous is the only word that comes to mind."

"You'll be fine. Just think of the cash. And the new experience."

Tyler comes down the stairs wearing swimming trunks. Nothing else. I met him earlier today when I first got here. He's a nice young man, smart, and I could easily imagine him running a dental practice when he's old enough.

More than anything, my gut instinct was correct. I looked around the living room earlier and saw old family pictures. Tyler looks just like his late father. Not the exact same, but he looks closer to his dad, than he does the mom. It's a curious thing, the son taking the dad's place. I wonder if they have the same cock, but of course, that's not something I'd inquire about. Not yet at least.

We hang around for a while to get comfortable, but they're working professionals and they prepared for this moment, so everything is ready. I like talking with my subjects if it's going to be a tough shoot for them. It helps loosen the mood and calm the nerves.

"Slather his midsection with lotion," I say.

Elena freezes. "The neighbors."

"We'll do this fast. I'll be on the lookout."

As they get to work, I start snapping photographs, capturing intimate moments between them. I'm only taking pictures of their hands and body. No face. Nothing which can identify them. There are some shots of the backyard, the pool, anything that would give this an American feel for overseas audiences.

Elena's gentle touch on her son's body creates a connection that's palpable in these images. The age gap is apparent. Her hands reflect her age and Tyler has the slender figure of a young man. The hesitation is mostly on her end, while Tyler is composed, standing still during the process. His facial expression is confident, he doesn't flinch, unphased by mom's lubricated hands roaming his stomach and chest, but I can see him breathing harder. His midsection shines.

They start to laugh at the absurd nature of what they're doing. Every so often I check the windows of the neighbors, and so does she. Tyler doesn't seem to mind if anyone is watching or not, getting touched this way is all that matters.

"Now, the next step."

Elena gulps. "The cream? Umm... the other kind of cream."

"The application of the penis cream," I whisper. "Basically a handjob."

The depths of the situation hits her like a ton of bricks. I often deal with models who do risque acts for the first time, some just make the leap, others act surprised. Elena is in the second group. She's surprised, but knew it was coming. I empathize with her because it's not something mothers can easily prepare for.

"Can we take this inside?" she asks.

"That's reasonable for this."

We head inside her home and I've already picked out a few locations for this portion of the shoot. I originally wanted to do something classy by the fireplace, something that emphasizes a home without giving away their identities, but seeing Tyler's slathered body is giving me other ideas.

"By the sliding glass door," I say. "We should have enough privacy."

The pool and garden are behind them, which creates the suburban atmosphere I'm trying to capture. The neighbors won't be able to see unless someone is peering over the fence.

"How long will this take?" she asks.

"Not long. We only need a few minutes."

I hand Elena the small container of penis cream and she takes it. Before coming here, I wondered if I needed to coax Elena or Tyler for this portion of the shoot, but that isn't the case. That's the power of money. Tyler pulls his shorts down, it's semi-erect and grows by the second. Elena tries to be dignified about an exposed penis and she doesn't flinch.

When she opens the cap and pours cream onto her hand, I get the camera ready. She rubs her son's dick and it throbs. Seeing them now, my suspicion is confirmed that Tyler is a replacement for the father. There's something so perverse about that, that everyone in the room is consumed by that same energy.

I keep snapping pictures. Tyler is rock fucking hard. Elena has the strongest reaction, since she's the woman doing the heavy lifting here, having to apply cream to her son's thick shaft. I'm kneeling, getting closer, making sure to avoid anything that could identify them. Her hand is stroking, slathering the young man's penis, making him squirm as he stands there in a blissful kind of agony.

Having seen endless nude bodies, it would take a lot to arouse me, but this is doing just that. For obvious reasons at this point. Seeing the cock that hard, seeing Elena's timid reaction to stroking it -- horrible thoughts are coming to mind. My nipples are erect and I can only imagine what's happening beneath Elena's bra.

"Finish him off. You might as well."

Elena's eyes dart in my direction. This isn't part of the agreement but she's being well-compensated. Her lips purse, her fingers grip tighter, then she strokes faster. I'm snapping away with my camera, kneeling and watching her pump. Tyler can't last much longer, who could? After several moments his cock erupts and shoots cum onto the floor.

xxx

Image selection and editing are underrated aspects of where the magic is. It's like the old saying, movies are made in editing. I spend one or two hours a day going over images I've taken, depending on how busy things are. That includes selecting final shots out of hundreds I've taken, color corrections, retouching, and so forth.