Sunday, 8 September 2013

THE PHOTOGRAPHER

I originally used the byline Kyle Barger, but I've 
changed that.
Thor

The summer after my high school graduation, Mom and I 
moved from Iowa to Santa Barbara, California so Mom 
could take a great new job. We arrived just in time for 
me to enroll in junior college.

I was lost that first semester, but I was in good 
company. A lot of us had expected junior college to 
just be the "13th Grade," sort of a continuation of high 
school, but it wasn't. I did fine, though, and got good 
grades. I also made a few new friends, mostly guys. I 
dated a few times, there were a lot of cute girls at 
the school, but nothing interesting happened.

My second semester, I took a heavy class load. Since I 
had to take some kind of an arts or music course, my 
academic counselor suggested a photography class. She 
said she didn't know the instructor, who was new to the 
faculty, but the course looked pretty easy. With my 
rigorous schedule, plus the fact I was trying out for 
the basketball team as a walk-on, we agreed I could use 
one easy class. So I signed up for ART 1930, 
Photographic Composition.

Basketball only lasted two weeks. I was cut from the 
team in the final cut, but the coach liked me and told 
me that I could continue to practice with the team if I 
had time. So I did. During games, I helped the trainers 
and coaches, and even went on road trips with the team 
a couple of times. I didn't have a title, they just 
called me "Barger (That's my name, Kyle Barger)." But 
it was fun.

Most of my classes were easier than I had feared. ART 
1930, though, was an entirely different matter. It was 
easy (no tests - none) and enjoyable, but it took an 
incredible amount of time!

I liked Dr. Levy immediately. He looked like an escapee 
from a 1960's hippie commune. He was in his mid-
sixties, tall and thin, and wore his snow-white hair in 
a ponytail that reached to the middle of his back. He 
wore open long-sleeved shirts, jeans, and sandals. He 
bragged about never having owned a suit. We later 
learned that he had retired after a distinguished 
career as a full professor of art at Berkeley, but was 
returning to teaching this year because he missed the 
interaction with young people. He said he found himself 
turning old, but the students kept him young. He was a 
brilliant man, but one of the most unpretentious people 
I have ever met.

At the first class session, without even saying 
"hello," Dr. Levy said he wanted to see how observant 
his would-be photographers were. He strode quickly to 
the classroom door, pointed to a girl in the front row, 
and said, "You. Young lady. Describe this to me."

Knowing this was an art class, and seeing his hippie 
artist affect, the girl launched into a 30-second 
description of the door. She didn't name it, but she 
gave the dimensions, the color, a thorough description 
of the woodwork on the frame and trim, and so forth. It 
was quite a detailed description, right down to the 
location of the nails, and the colors of the door 
handles.

"No!" Said Dr. Levy. "Okay, that wasn't fair, let's try 
something easier. Be honest with me now, and above all, 
be honest with yourselves. How many of you registered 
for this basic photography class because it was an easy 
3-hour class? Be honest, raise you hands if you did 
that."

A lot of us raised our hands, just a few of us at 
first, but eventually more than half of the class. Dr. 
Levy laughed.

"Well, you made a mistake. This class is going to be 
very difficult for many of you. It will be very time-
consuming for all of you-you can plan on spending at 
least 10 hours per week outside of class on 
photographic assignments. There is nothing mystical 
about learning photography, you just have to do it. You 
have to take pictures, thousands of pictures. I'm going 
to work your asses off!"

"Now let's go back to the first question (pointing to 
the door), what is this? It's a door. Those of you who 
signed up for this class because you thought it was a 
walkover are in the wrong classroom-you should use this 
door. Now!"

No one left. Dr Levy immediately charged into his first 
lecture, a basic discussion of the objects of 
photography. It was fascinating. There was nothing 
technical about it, in fact he said the technical stuff 
wasn't important. The important thing, Dr. Levy said, 
was to capture what you set out to capture-whether you 
were a scientific photographer, working in advertising, 
and artist trying to capture the essence of a delicate 
flower, or a war photographer.

At the end of the class, Dr. Levy gave us our first 
assignment, due the following Monday. We were to take 
ten rolls of film (240 pictures!), in black and white, 
of one group of people at work. The object was not 
artistic expression; it was simply to capture the 
reality of what they did for a living. He also told us 
that failure to submit any assignment on time, 
regardless of the reason, meant an automatic failure of 
the entire course.

Only 13 of the original 37 students returned a couple 
of days later for the second class. Dr. Levy was happy. 
Now we had a workable group of hardcore photographers.

The following Monday, I turned in my 240 pictures. With 
Dr. Levy's permission, and coach's, I had carried my 
camera to basketball practice every day, and had 
photographed everything. The pictures were 
unremarkable, except for a couple of good action shots 
during one game. Dr. Levy accepted all 13 portfolios 
without comment. He said he would look through them and 
we would discuss them later in the week. Then he would 
give us another assignment. He launched into his 
planned lecture.

When we came to class on Wednesday, though, 13 large 
poster-boards surrounded the room, one for each 
student. On the posters were a collage of our photos, a 
dozen or so, carefully selected by Dr. Levy from the 
240 shots we had each turned in. We were amazed at how 
good we were!

To my surprise, Dr. Levy picked my photos as one of two 
sets for detailed discussion by the whole class. None 
of the action shots I liked were included in my 
collage. What he liked about my pictures was that they 
had captured a lot of the human interaction of the 
coaches and players. One shot showed the players, 
huddling in rapt attention on the sidelines with an 
assistant coach, frantically plotting a desperate 
defensive strategy that saved a victory in the final 
seconds of a game. Two other shots were in the locker 
room. One showed extreme fatigue after a close loss. 
Another showed several players roaring with laughter as 
they engaged in a towel fight.

The other collage was the work of Dianne Chu, a tiny 
Chinese-American student from LA. Dianne's brother is a 
Santa Barbara cop, and Dianne rode with him every night 
for a week, taking more than her required 10 rolls of 
film. Although the composition of her shots was pretty 
good, there really wasn't much going on in any of them. 
But that was what Dr. Levy liked about them. He 
surprised us by saying that he had worked his way 
through Berkeley as a San Francisco police officer. 

This aging hippie had been a cop for six years! And 
from that background Dr. Levy understood, as none of us 
could, that Dianne's pictures captured the essence of 
mundane, routine, police work. There was only one 
picture that was dramatic-a shot of a female officer 
directing traffic at a horrible traffic accident scene. 
(We all knew that story, because a student from the 
junior college had been killed in that wreck.) But what 
Levy liked about that shot was not the pathos of a 
young mans death, it was that Dianne had captured an 
essential truth of police work: even when the world 
goes to hell around them, cops still have to do their 
jobs. No matter what they may feel later, somebody has 
to suck it up and direct traffic. In that light, it was 
quite a photograph.

Dr. Levy closed the class with two important lessons: 
1) you have to take a ton of pictures to get one 
special picture, and 2) what you see in the printed 
photograph-and especially what others with different 
perspectives see-is often very different from what you 
see through the viewfinder. Then, Dr. Levy gave us our 
next assignment, and gave us two and a half weeks to do 
it, because he knew this assignment would require much 
more planning. The assignment was to photograph a 
person (or persons) of the opposite sex nude. Again, 
240 pictures, in black and white.

There were several other criteria. First of all, the 
photos had to be of the same person or small group-in 
other words, you couldn't just spend the weekend at a 
nudist colony and photograph 240 different people.

Second, no genitalia and no tits-Levy was not looking 
for sex, he was looking for humanity stripped of its 
protective cover. So the shots had to be either from an 
oblique angle, or the subjects had to be partially 
covered with something. But they still had to be nude 
underneath.

Third, no pairing off. Taking pictures of each other 
would take twice as much time, and also Levy didn't 
want any criticism that this was just a ruse to see his 
students naked.

For those who could afford it, Dr. Levy suggested 
hiring professional models from a local modeling 
school, but only as a last resort. He closed the class 
by emphasizing that this was a serious exercise, not a 
game.

I guess I was very quiet that night at dinner, because 
Mom asked me if everything was OK. I told her it was, 
but she persisted in asking what was bothering me. The 
answer was simple. I had no idea who I could 
photograph. Because our money was a little tight, I 
couldn't afford to spend several hundred dollars on a 
professional model. I really liked Dr. Levy and the 
class, but I was thinking about dropping the class. I 
told Mom about the assignment and my dilemma.

Mom thought about it quietly for a couple of seconds, 
and then changed the subject. We talked about other 
topics for a few minutes, but I could tell that Mom's 
mind was somewhere else. Finally, she returned to the 
subject she had been thinking about the whole time.

"Kyle...what about me?" She asked.

"What about you what?" I answered. Duh.

"What about photographing me, Kyle?" She replied.

"Nude???" I questioned.

"Yes, silly...nude."

"Gosh Mom, I don't know. Wouldn't you feel a little 
weird?"

"Not with you taking the pictures, no I wouldn't. 
Would you?"

"Well, frankly, yeah. I think I would...a little."

"Why? I'm not that bad looking. As a matter of fact, I 
have a pretty damn good body for an old broad, even if 
I have to say so myself."

"No ...it's not that. You're very pretty, and yes, you 
have a very nice body...for a woman of any age. It's 
just that, like, you know...you're my Mom."

"Who better to photograph, Kyle? Besides...I've always 
wanted to see how I would look in a nude photograph by 
a skilled professional photographer."

"I'm not very skilled, Mom. And also, I've really never 
thought of you sexually. I don't know if I'd be okay 
with seeing you that way."

"Kyle...I'm not asking you to make love to me. I'm just 
asking you to take pictures of me. And I'm not just 
volunteering to help you out in your class. I'm mostly 
asking you for my own reasons. I'd like to be examined, 
and captured, and appreciated. I'd really like that."

And so it was agreed.

Mom wanted to start right away, but we had to do a lot 
of planning first. Plus...I was nervous! Photographing 
my Mom nude, what the hell was I thinking about? I 
didn't even know if I had the balls to photograph a 
girl I hardly knew nude! Shoot Mom? You must be 
shitting me!

But, we looked at the calendar and made a few plans. 
For one thing, I knew that natural sunlight would be 
much better than artificial lighting, so we wanted to 
do a lot of the shooting on the weekends, during the 
daytime. We had two weekends before the deadline, but 
we planned to use the first one for shooting and the 
second for a backup, in case we ran behind or had a 
problem. Also, we had to get some props. To my 
surprise, Mom volunteered to take care of that. She 
could get some things from the professional 
photographers in the art department at her advertising 
agency.

We agreed to shoot the first roll of film the following 
night. We weren't expecting much from this shoot, and I 
probably would not turn the pictures in. The main idea 
was just to get comfortable.

The next evening, Mom was all bubbly and giggling at 
dinner. She was very nervous, but she was also excited. 
She served wine with dinner, which she never did except 
for special occasions.

After dinner, we went right to work. Mom had not 
brought home any props yet, so we just decided to use 
the family room. I set up the camera and some lights I 
had borrowed from school while Mom went to "change."

When she returned, I gasped. I knew she was going to be 
naked for the shooting, maybe with a towel over her 
tits and crotch, but I really expected to see her in a 
white terrycloth robe she always wore around the house 
on the weekends. Not this time! She wore only a very 
light, nearly transparent, baby-blue nylon nightgown! 
It took my breath away! For some reason, it also scared 
me.

The thing that scared me is that, for the first time 
really, I was looking at my mother sexually. And she is 
a lot to look at! Mom is not real tall, only about 5' 
3", but she has a spectacular body. She has a slender 
shape, her shoulders and hips are not too broad, but 
she has a pronounced tiny waistline, and very ample 
breasts. They are not huge (34), but they are very full 
(D cup). Her tits are perfectly formed, nice and firm, 
and they have small areolas and perky little nipples. 
They're gorgeous! Mom also has very pretty legs. 
Because of her thin body, her legs look longer than 
they really are. She looks long-legged, but as I said, 
she's really not very tall. Mom looked outrageously 
beautiful.

She saw me gawking and standing there with a 
dumbfounded look on my face...and she loved it!

"Oh my, Kyle. I guess you like what you see!"

I think I stammered something like "...I sure do," or 
something equally dorky.

"Well, you have no idea how good that makes me feel, 
Kyle. To have my handsome young son look at me like 
that, to appreciate the way I look...that just really 
makes me feel very special. Thank you, honey."

And then she floated across the room and kissed me 
lightly on the cheek. As she did so, one of her breasts 
softly brushed against my arm. She quickly apologized, 
but I said it was OK. OK? Goddamn right it was OK! It 
was wonderful!

Then Mom took off her flimsy nightgown, revealing her 
full beauty. But she didn't just whip it off and throw 
it on the floor. She pulled it off slowly, watching my 
reaction intently. Then she turned her side to me, and 
with her graceful back arched just perfectly, made a 
great show of carefully folding the nightgown. When she 
bent down to place the nightgown on a chair, she kept 
her back arched, and bent only from the waist, poking 
her magnificent, fine ass up in the air. It was an 
extraordinary, and brazenly sexual, performance. I was 
dumbstruck!

"Well...what do you think? Will I do?"

"Oh God yeah, Mom! You'll do just fine! You look 
incredible!" She smiled. I could tell my reaction 
really did make her happy. She had done what she did 
very deliberately, and she loved my response.

I took pictures slowly. We both worked together on 
poses. Since we really didn't have any props, Mom just 
posed on the couch and in front of the fireplace, using 
the flimsy nightgown to cover her strategic parts in 
the frontal shots. But we took most of the shots from 
the rear, or from an angle, with her facing away from 
me, concealing her luscious tits and carefully 
manicured bush. For those who might have seen the 
photographs, the shots would have left a lot to the 
imagination, but that was just what we were looking 
for. To me, however, my spectacular mother was fully 
displayed...and she wasn't the least bit bashful. In 
fact, she was really enjoying it!

In keeping with the spirit of this being a "get used to 
it" session, I had a little problem. I wasn't used to 
seeing Mom nude. In fact, I had never seen any woman 
nude like this! I wasn't a virgin, but I'd never had a 
beautiful woman strutting and parading around in front 
of me before. I guess it had to happen, but I got a 
hardon. Thank God I was wearing a pretty tight pair of 
bikini briefs, because they held me back somewhat! But 
I have a pretty big cock, and Mom saw it bulging in my 
loose khaki chinos. But she didn't say anything.


She just kept posing, and I kept shooting very slowly. 
I was trying to prolong the 24 pictures as long as I 
could. As we approached the end of the roll, I noticed 
a change in Mom. She had been smiling a lot, not only 
as part of the poses, but something just seemed to make 
her happy. But as we went along, her look got more 
serious. She was watching me intently, but would look 
away whenever I looked up at her from behind the 
camera. It was like she didn't realize I was also 
looking right at her when I was using the viewfinder. 
And then, I noticed that her tits had really perked up. 
Well not her tits, actually, I mean her nipples. They 
were hard!

As I took the last shot and re-wound the film, I just 
couldn't resist!

"Cold, Mom? We'd better get you covered up before you 
freeze!" I was joking about her nipples.

She knew exactly what I was saying. She looked down at 
them and said, "Oh these...? No ...I'm not cold. I'm 
just excited. I guess seeing you like that got me 
excited."

"Like what Mom?" I said, having gotten used to my 
hardon.

"Like that, Kyle. Hard. Seeing you hard made me 
excited. I'm very flattered that you like what you see. 
I'm not cold, I'm aroused."

"Uh, uh...OK, Mom ...well, uh...I guess we better get 
you covered up then." I mumbled.

"Why? I like being like this. And I know you like 
looking at me. Is this so bad?" And with that, she 
reached up with both hands and very softly touched her 
hard nipples. She jumped! And she instantly exclaimed, 
"Ooo! Oooooooooo! Yow! Boy, it's been a while since 
anybody's touched me like that!"

I thought I was gonna shit in my pants. I mumbled some 
excuse and dashed off to the bathroom. I didn't really 
have to pee, but I was glad I could when I got there. 
It gave me a cover story, and it also helped my raging 
hardon recede. When I returned to the family room, Mom 
was gone.

She returned in a few minutes fully dressed. Well, 
not really fully. 

She was wearing an old pair of jeans and a white art 
festival tee-shirt. But she obviously didn't have a bra 
on. That was a big departure from regular dress. My Mom 
always wore a bra. I think she only took her bra off to 
sleep. But she sure wasn't wearing one now and her full 
tits jiggled deliciously whenever she moved. Even minor 
shifts in body position were occasions for celebration, 
as we talked on the couch. My hardon cheerfully 
returned, and although it was more difficult to see 
clearly because we were sitting down, Mom noticed it.

Finally, Mom spoke to the subject that had never left 
my mind. 

"Kyle...do I make you nervous? Do I make you 
uncomfortable?"

"Yeah, Mom...you really do. I'm sorry, I'm just not 
used to seeing you like I have tonight. It's going to 
take some getting used to."

"I know Kyle. I'm not used to seeing you the way I've 
seen you tonight either. It will take me a little while 
to get used to it too. But you know what, Kyle? I like 
it, and you like it, and Lord knows we could both stand 
to loosen up a little! We are two of the most uptight 
people I know. We are always so serious, never having 
any fun. We both need to relax a little."

"I know that's true, Mom. But I'm just not used to 
seeing you like this. Not just naked, but right now! 
You always wear a bra, but you're not wearing one now, 
and it's driving me crazy!"

"Oh, let's not get too carried away, Kyle. I don't 
think I'm driving you crazy. I'm happy that you like 
what you see. You have no idea how good that makes me 
feel. But I don't think you're out of control, are 
you?"

"Not quite, Mom. But I'll tell you the truth...you are 
really, really hot! If you weren't my mother, I would 
jump your bones is a heartbeat."

"And you are very, very yummy, Kyle! You'd never have a 
chance to jump my bones, though, because if you weren't 
my son, I would have crawled all over your gorgeous 
body long before now!"

I laughed, partly because it was so funny, but mostly 
because I was really nervous. I said thanks, but she 
must be joking. Mom said she wasn't joking at all. She 
said she had been watching appreciatively as I had 
grown into a tall, strong and handsome young man. She 
said that I had a nice body, a "...great butt," and 
that she was very proud of the way I looked.

"And ...my studly young son, that looks like a pretty 
nice package you're keeping so well hidden in those 
chinos. You are going to make some woman very happy 
someday with that little item!"

Then, she giggled playfully and said it was time for 
bed. We hugged goodnight and I gave her a quick kiss on 
the cheek, just like we always did. Well...not 
precisely like we always did. Mom intentionally rubbed 
her unfettered breasts into my chest as we hugged.

And then, just in case I missed it, she said, "Ooops, 
sorry!"

I couldn't let that pass, so I threw it right back at 
her, "That's okay, Mom...any time!"

We both smiled, but we left the challenge unanswered 
and went to our rooms. It took me two frantic handjobs 
to get to sleep.

The next day was Friday. Mom was down in LA all day at 
a marketing convention, and she was going on a dinner 
cruise that night with some colleagues, so she would 
not be back home until 2-3 AM. But we had photo shoots 
scheduled both Saturday and Sunday, and both of us were 
really looking forward to them.

At photography class on Friday, I talked with Dianne 
Chu, the tiny little Chinese-American girl. We had 
become friends and technical advisers, so we discussed 
our first photo shoots. We both had film to develop, 
and no plans for that Friday night, so we agreed to 
meet at the school's darkroom at 7 PM. As we left the 
class, Dianne asked me to walk with her for a while. 
She had something to tell me.

"Kyle, I like you and I don't want to give you the 
wrong impression. We're going to be developing nude 
pictures together tonight, and no matter how 
professional we try to be, its going to be an 
'inspiring' time, if you know what I mean."

I knew exactly what she meant! I couldn't wait to 
develop the pictures of my beautiful and very sexy 
mother. I was certainly going to be "inspired!"

"But there is something you need to know about me, 
Kyle. I'm a lesbian. 
I'm gay. I would appreciate it if you would keep that 
information secret. My close friends know, but I don't 
really want it blabbed all over campus. I prefer to 
keep my private life private. And if you don't want to 
do this together tonight, I understand."

I was surprised. Not shocked, but surprised. But, hell, 
I was okay with it. Actually, in a way, it relieved an 
issue that might have surfaced, and really cleared the 
way for us to collaborate technically without 
distractions. I told Dianne that, and it made her 
happy.

At 7 PM we met at the darkroom and started working. The 
darkroom is huge and there were probably a dozen other 
people using it. But most of them were developing color 
film. We had the black and white area to ourselves. I 
had just the one roll to develop, but Dianne had two. 
We developed them quickly, and then started the tedious 
process of hand-printing.

Since Dianne had two rolls, she printed a roll first, 
with me helping her. We frequently adjusted the 
variables in the printing process to try to bring out 
particular characteristics in each photograph. We 
worked quickly and well together.

Dianne's nude model was Dan Chu, her brother the cop. 
I'm an enthusiastic heterosexual, but even I have to 
admit that Dan is a really good-looking guy. He's 25 
years old, 6'1", about 215 pounds, and doesn't have an 
ounce of fat on his body. With coal black hair, and 
eyes to match, he looks like a Chinese version of some 
Greek god! I complimented Dianne on her choice of 
models, and asked her how she felt seeing her brother 
nude.

"Well, I was okay with it, and so was he. His 
girlfriend, though, was a pain in the ass. She insisted 
on being there, and wanted to watch in the nude. That 
made Dan horny, which made it difficult to pose him 
correctly, so we finally had to tell her to cover it 
up!" Dianne laughed, remembering the humorous 
situation. So did I.

As good-looking as Dan was, there was something about 
the pictures that just didn't work. They were too 
stiff, almost wooden. We didn't figure it out until we 
printed my pictures of Mom, and then printed Dianne's 
second roll.

When I printed my pictures, Dianne just couldn't shut 
up about how gorgeous Mom was. And she pressured me to 
find out who she was. Finally, she reminded me that she 
had shared a secret with me, and begged me to share 
this with her. I told her the model was my Mom. All 
Dianne said was, "Wow!"

The pictures of Mom were actually quite good. She was 
so beautiful, and her smile was so radiant, that it 
would have been hard to mess them up. Her happiness was 
apparent. But my pictures had the same stiffness that 
Dianne's did. But when we printed Dianne's second roll, 
we discovered the reason!

The second roll was really two separate photo sessions, 
twelve pictures each. The first shoot was Dan again, 
but this time in a humorous parody of a policeman. He 
wore his badge adhered to his left breast with double-
sided tape, his gun-belt and holster, his hat, and 
other accessories. The poses were all humorous, and the 
stiffness was gone. Dianne said they had just been 
kidding around, waiting for Sherry (Dan's girlfriend) 
and she shot some quick shots using her power-winder, 
instead of carefully posing each picture.

The last twelve pictures, though, were stunning! Sherry 
joined Dan in these pictures, their price for Dan 
posing. Sherry was a bleached-blond bombshell with 
enormous plastic tits. She is an exotic dancer and she 
and Dan met when he responded to a call at her club. 
There is nothing subtle about Sherry. She's just sexy 
as hell; it's her living, after all. I wouldn't take a 
slutty bitch like that bowling, but I had to admit she 
was really hot!

There were two stunning qualities to these pictures. 
One was the lighting. Dianne had used very subdued 
lighting, giving the photographs a soft, dreamlike 
effect. And the other was that Dr. Levy's restrictions 
didn't apply here. There was a lot of tits, cocks, and 
other parts. There were pictures of Dan and Sherry 
kissing tenderly, him caressing her huge breasts both 
from front and behind, and even one of her stroking his 
cock. There was no actual sex, but Dianne remarked she 
had used the power-winder again because she was eager 
to get it over with, and Dan and Sherry were eager to 
get it on.

We realized that the stiffness in many of our shots was 
caused by over-posing the models. Our nude shots lacked 
the candor of unguarded moments that our "men at work" 
series had exhibited. The use of humor and the power-
winder helped reduce the stiffness.

Dianne and I agreed to exchange some of the better 
photos so we could review them in more detail, with the 
promise that we wouldn't show them to anyone but our 
models, and that we would return them. Neither of us 
wanted these pictures floating around. I took eight of 
Dianne's pictures. Six of them were from the second 
roll, including four of Dan and Sherry. She took six of 
mine.

The next morning, Mom was up early. Our plan was to do 
two shoots Saturday and two Sunday, to take advantage 
of both the morning and afternoon light. It would take 
almost the whole weekend. Mom made us a big breakfast, 
and told me about her convention as we ate. But I could 
tell that wasn't really what she wanted to talk about. 
She was dying to see her pictures!

I brought out the manila folio containing the pictures. 
In the folio were two folders: a thick one containing 
Mom's twenty-four pictures and a thin one containing 
Dianne's eight shots.

Mom spent almost an hour looking at her pictures. We 
discussed each shot carefully, each offering ideas of 
how we could do better. Mom was very happy with the 
results. When she finished looking at the pictures, she 
gave me a big hug. Since we were going to have a photo 
shoot, Mom was only wearing her bathrobe with nothing 
underneath. She pressed her magnificent breasts into my 
chest, and then giggled a teasing, "Ooops. Sorry." 
Again, I told her any time.

Then, as she put her pictures back in the folio, she 
asked what was in the other folder. I told her some of 
Dianne's pictures. I let her look at them without 
commenting. She compliment Dan in the first four shots, 
two serious and two of the humorous ones.

But when she came to the first picture of the couple (a 
simple shot of Dan hugging Sherry from behind), she 
said, "Ooooooooooo! Look at this!" She looked at the 
picture for a long time, but said nothing further.

Then she looked at the second picture, a profile shot 
of Dan and Sherry some distance apart, leaning forward 
for a tender kiss. Sherry's enormous tits just brushed 
against Dan's chest, and Dan's bulging erection jutted 
out toward Sherry's eager pussy. Mom looked at that one 
a long time too.

The last two shots were of Dan caressing Sherry's huge 
breasts. The first one was a playful grope from the 
front, with both laughing and grinning. Mom laughed at 
that one, enjoying the humor and fun in the shot. The 
last picture was the best: a tender profile shot of Dan 
hugging Sherry from the rear and gently stroking her 
nipples as he kissed the nape of her neck. Sherry's 
nipples were rock-hard! Dan's penis was not visible, 
but it had to be aching! I know mine was!

Mom just let out a low, "Oooooooooo...." and stared at 
the picture. She didn't say another word for several 
minutes. She just examined the picture with microscopic 
intensity. Her mind was a million miles away, and I 
wondered what she was thinking. Finally, she just said, 
"Oh my goodness...what a beautiful moment!"

Then Mom looked up from the pictures and laughed. "My 
God, look at me! My nipples are as hard as hers!" She 
parted the robe and caressed her nipples lightly, 
causing them to get even harder and also causing her to 
gasp. Then she told me she was soaking wet and had to 
go to her room. She said it would be a little while 
before she was ready to start our morning shoot.

Mom went to her room and I went to mine. My bedroom is 
right next to Mom's, so I could hear the soft buzz of 
her vibrator as I started stroking my throbbing cock. I 
felt like I was eavesdropping, but that just made the 
moment more erotic! And I knew Mom also knew exactly 
what I was doing, too! Neither of us was loud, but 
neither of us tried to conceal what we were doing 
either. I blew off a big wad of cum, whispering 
"Mom...Mom...Mom" as I came. I didn't say it loud 
enough for hear it, but she had to know what I was 
thinking about. Shortly afterward, as I lay quietly in 
my bed trying to catch my breath, I heard Mom call my 
name in a groan of ecstasy as she reached orgasm.

We had masturbated together, both knowing and neither 
caring. We might as well have been watching each other.

When Mom joined me in the family room a half-hour 
later, she was again wearing only the sheer nightgown 
she had worn at our first shoot. She strode up to me, 
drew her body to mine, and shamelessly kissed me 
tenderly on the lips. As we parted, she said, "We'd 
better watch it, Kyle...I was thinking about you just 
then."

I pulled her back to me and planted another sweet kiss 
on her lips. "I was thinking about you, too, Mom. And 
it was very sexy!"

"Yeah, hot-stuff! Me too! We'd better be careful!"

We spent about an hour doing the morning shoot. Mom was 
much more relaxed about posing, and I was surprised to 
find that I was more professional, almost clinical, in 
directing and photographing the shoot. I used the 
power-winder a lot and took two rolls of film. I knew 
the pictures were good.

After lunch, Mom had some errands to do, but she 
returned at 3 PM and we started the afternoon shoot. At 
Mom's suggestion, we added music to the mix, with great 
results. Mom swayed and danced beautifully as I 
continued to shoot. Three rolls later, as the afternoon 
shadows lengthened, we were both tired. We stopped and 
I started to pack up my stuff.

"Kyle ...?" Mom asked. I looked at her. She was in a 
pensive mood.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Kyle...Dan and Sherry got paid for posing. Not money, 
but I mean they got a reward. Don't you think I should 
get one?"

"Sure, Mom! I'll take you to Pepe's for dinner!" Pepe's 
was Mom's favorite Mexican restaurant.

"No, Kyle...that's not what I have in mind" She 
replied. "Kyle...can you take some pictures of us like 
Dianne took of her brother and his girlfriend? Nothing 
real sexy, but just nice, loving pictures?"

"Well, actually I could Mom. I'd have to use a tripod 
and the auto-exposure thing. The pictures would be 
kinda hit or miss - we'd have to frame the general area 
where we were going to pose and then hope for the best. 
It's nothing like having a photographer looking through 
the viewfinder. The pictures wouldn't be anywhere near 
as good as Dianne's. But yes, it is possible."

"Well maybe not...but would you do that for me?"

"Mom...I thought we were going to be careful. I mean, 
we both get aroused just taking regular pictures. What 
do you think will happen if we are together, in the 
nude, touching each other?"

"We'll be okay, Kyle. And if we start getting aroused, 
we can just stop. It's not irreversible, you know. 
Please Kyle...? I love the pictures you took of me and 
it would mean so much to me to have pictures together."

I agreed, wondering what the hell I was doing. I had 
some second thoughts as I started positioning the 
tripod, but when I saw the glowing smile on my mother's 
face, I decided to go through with it. We could always 
stop.

I had one roll of 36 exposures in my camera bag, and 
for some reason, I used that one instead of a roll of 
24. It was a lucky decision. I had Mom stand in 
position for the first shot, which we decided would 
just be a profile shot of the two of us facing each 
other, a couple of feet apart, holding hands. I framed 
the shot, leaving room in the frame for me to stand, 
and set the time and exposure to make the best use of 
the fading afternoon light. Then, I stripped, set the 
timer, and ran over to Mom.

"Oh!" She gasped.

"What, Mom?" I asked.

"You! My God, Kyle...look at you! You're so big! Oh!" 
Rather than holding my hands, Mom was pointing at my 
big cock as the shutter clicked. We both broke into 
laughter realizing that our first picture together was 
of an appreciative mother pointing at her son's raging 
eight-inch hardon!

Mom couldn't get off the subject of my size. She 
marveled at my big cock, which only made matters worse. 
I got harder, and her nipples were hard as diamonds. I 
said we should stop, but Mom refused. She said she 
hadn't really seen my penis since I was about 9 or 10, 
and she just needed a moment to get used to it. She 
also said she had never seen such a magnificent penis 
in her life. She told me I was beautiful.

Finally, against my better judgment, we tried the 
handholding shot again. We got through it, but the 
tender effect of mother and son holding hands is ruined 
by the sight of my raging hardon reaching desperately 
for Mom's vagina.

I knew how the shot must look, so we tried the same 
thing, but with a different camera placement. I put the 
tripod on top of the kitchen table, standing on a 
stepladder to frame the shot in the viewfinder. Mom 
stood facing the camera, and the shot would be looking 
down at her over my right shoulder. We would be 
standing farther apart than the first try, and if I got 
lucky the picture would show both of us clearly, but my 
still-stiff cock would be screened from view by my 
torso. We took the picture twice, because Mom was 
staring down at my swollen hardon when the shutter 
opened the first time.

Next, we tried a tender frontal kiss, like the one Dan 
and Sherry had taken. It turned out to be a great shot. 
Mom has really beautiful breasts, as I've said 
earlier...perfect, in fact. But they are not the 
enormous phony tits of Sherry. Therefore, when her 
breasts touch my bare chest, we are a lot closer than 
Sherry and Dan were. And my cock is a good bit bigger 
than Dan's. So when Mom's hard nipples just caressed my 
chest, my pulsating hardon rubbed against her tummy. 
Mom just closed her eyes for the kiss, the shutter went 
off, and then she said, "Ummmmm."

By now, a strange thing was happening. We were both 
very aroused. But we were also more comfortable, and 
more in control. So we continued the shoot, taking a 
variety of pictures. We were enjoying it now. We felt 
close. And, somehow it felt good to be arousing each 
other.

The last series of pictures (more that 30 shots) 
started as a series of me hugging Mom from behind. I 
used the power-winder so we could let the series flow. 
The series starts with me barely touching Mom from 
behind, my hands on her hips. I'm a foot or so behind 
her, with my eager cock pointing straight at her ass. 
Not exactly the tenderness I was trying to capture!

To hide my cock, I moved closer to her and turned her 
slightly toward the camera, with my arms around her 
waist. My big cock rested along the crack of her ass, 
rising slightly above the gentle slope of her perfect 
cheeks. I knew it was still visible.

I held Mom closer, trying to adjust my cock so it 
wouldn't show. In the process, I moved away from her 
and then back to her. This time my raging hardon poked 
her in the ass.

"Kyle! Don't you poke my butt with that big monster!" 
Mom teased. "If you slip, you'll kill me!"

We laughed and I told her what I was trying to do-hide 
the damn thing! She reached back, took my thrilled cock 
in her hand gently, and guided it between her legs. 
Happy dick! Happy dick!

That position did keep my cock out of the picture. It 
had other benefits, too. My cock wasn't the only happy 
sexual organ that day! I wasn't actually touching her 
vagina, but I was close enough to feel the heat from 
it! As the next couple of shots went off, I gently 
hugged my spectacular Mom, caressing her cheeks with my 
lips, touching her hair. She purred. Click. Click.

Then, I reached up and softly stroked her magnificent 
breasts. She jumped, but she made no effort to stop me. 
Instead, she just sighed. Click.

Then, as I gently stroked her nipples, I kissed the 
nape of her neck. Gently at first, but then harder as I 
increased the intensity of my attention to her 
spectacular globes. Mom gasped. Click. Click.

Then, Mom let out a soft moan as she spread her legs 
slightly. She reached down and guided the throbbing 
head of my aching cock to the opening of her vagina. 
"Oh!" she gasped. Click.

Then she turned her face to mine, her smiling mouth 
open in invitation. Our mouths came together hungrily, 
tongues probing frantically, as she pressed the head of 
my mighty cock into her steaming pussy. 
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh..........." Click.

Mom quickly released me, moving away from my confused 
penis, and I was afraid I had scared her off. She 
turned and faced me. But there was no quit in her eyes-
only happiness, lust, and wanting, as she stared hotly 
into my eyes. Click.

Mom dropped to her knees, and before I even knew what 
was happening, she buried my entire eight inches into 
her hot mouth and eager throat! She took it all 
effortlessly! Click.

Mom sucked eagerly, bobbing her beautiful face up and 
down on my happy cock! Click. She giggled and cooed as 
she licked and sucked! Click.

Mom was incredible! She played with me like a kitten 
with a ball of string, expertly taking me almost to 
climax, then easing away. Click. Click. Click.

Finally, mercifully, she let me cum. I exploded with 
enormous fury! Hot cum gushed into Mom's hungry mouth! 
Click. She tried hard, but there was just too much. 
Some of my cum dribbled down her chin as she smiled and 
eagerly swallowed every drop she had been able to 
catch. Click.

Then she wiped the cum from her chin with one finger, 
grinning sluttily and holding it in front of her open 
mouth until she heard the shutter. Click! Then she 
happily licked the last speck of my love juice from her 
finger. Click!

I frantically threw Mom down on the couch and gobbled 
her pussy like there was no tomorrow. The last couple 
of shots only show me kneeling over her, we were mostly 
out of frame now. Click. I drove Mom hungrily to a 
roaring climax. She screamed with joy and shouted 
encouragement.

Then I climbed on top of her, ready to drive my still-
hard cock into her slippery pussy. She stopped me, but 
only for a moment. She just wanted to go into her 
bedroom. We fucked heartily for more than two hours.

When we finally collapsed in each others arms, Mom 
sighed and teased, "We'll be okay, Kyle. We can just 
stop. It's not irreversible, you know!" And we both 
laughed happily, remembering our earlier silly, lame 
rationalizations.

************

As beautiful as that first time together was, we still 
had a lot of work ahead of us. As Dr. Levy always said, 
"You have to take a ton of shots to get that one 
special picture."

So we did our duty. We took more than a thousand 
pictures for that class, about 500 for this assignment 
and another 500 for a subsequent assignment in which 
the body parts restriction was lifted. Mom shaved her 
tasty pussy for that one, and still wears it shaved to 
this day.

The true artist's work is a lifelong passion. That was 
what Dr. Levy was trying to instill in us toward the 
end of that memorable course. He succeeded. Dianne 
became an incredibly successful professional 
photographer in San Francisco, specializing in 
capturing the special tenderness of lesbian lovers.

I'm a successful stockbroker now, also in San 
Francisco. I'm 33, Mom is 52. She is still as lovely as 
ever. She has taken good care of her body and the years 
have been kind to her. And there is still no sign of 
quit in her steaming eyes. We still live together. 
We're still devoted lovers.

And we are both now avid amateur photographers. I love 
wildlife and Mom loves landscapes, so we spend a lot of 
time visiting Yosemite National Park, only a few hours 
away in the Sierras.

And yes, we still take nudes together. Over the years, 
our pictures together have captured my maturation and 
Mom's graceful aging. And they have captured hours of 
both tender lovemaking and uproarious sucking and 
fucking. We have thousands of pictures, dozens and 
dozens of albums. We look at them often, but no one 
else in the world has ever seen them. No one ever will.

And, to this day, nothing makes Mom and I hungrier for 
each other's love than snuggling in front of an 
appreciative camera lens. Click.

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