Mona Smith waited as the automatic gate opened and then she drove her red Mercedes coupe slowly up the long drive to the three-story house her husband had built when they moved outside the city of Atlanta. The folksy atmosphere was one on which they had agreed when his trucking line had grown to reap enormous profits as a result of Art Smith’s smooth business acumen. It was a non-union operation because he offered his employees such good benefits, and in return they were loyal and worked hard for him. His decisions were pragmatic, not benevolent, but they made him great sums of money.
Although he was twenty years her senior, her husband had been generous throughout their marriage even though he could be aloof and distant. At all times he had been supportive financially of Bobby, her eighteen-year-old son from a teenage pregnancy, although as a father figure there was something lacking in Art’s relationship with the boy. Bobby would never want for anything tangible, but the only thing he seemed to have absorbed from his step-father was an industriousness and desire for success in business. On this Monday in August Mona was just now returning from a trip to Lexington where she had enrolled her only child into the University of Kentucky to study commercial enterprise and economics.
When Art had taken his secretary, the twenty-year-old Mona for his wife, he almost seemed to have accepted four-year-old Bobby as another acquisition due the same careful maintenance as a new Cadillac, or another office building. He had been an adequate lover to Mona at first, although the past few years had seen less and less physical coupling until the infrequent sessions had finally ceased. He was still ambitious, but now his careful mind had committed his wife and stepson to ancillary posts in his busy life, and he was pleasant without outward signs of affection. At thirty-four, Mona was trying to retain some semblance of married life even though she knew her youth and sexual vigor were slipping away. The past weekend’s activities had almost awakened her, and since she kept no secrets from her husband she hoped she could explain them to him in a manner which would satisfy his keen businesslike mind.
Instead of pulling around to the rear garage, Mona pulled her car into the curved area of the drive near the front of the large new house. She grabbed her garment bag from the back seat and slowly walked up the steps to the double doors, glancing at the potted plants on each side of the entrance. They had been imported from the rain forest of Brazil and now appeared to be dry and drooping. She made a mental note to speak to Estella about watering them every day. Mona had good rapport with the house staff, and Art thought they took advantage of her lenient attitude. In a life which approached a long dull dream, Mora thought it small to micro-manage the people they employed.
She crossed through the hallway and looked into the library through the open walnut doors on her right. Art was reading his papers, and looked up as she stopped.
“Hello, Mona. Did you get him into the apartment with no problem?” He smiled at her.
“Yes, and I’ll tell you about it as soon as I take a shower and get these clothes off.”
Art waved his hand and went back to the financial section as Mona walked to the long stairway. She started to return to the library, but with a second thought ascended the stairs to her suite.
With the door closed to her bedroom, Mona slowly undressed and looked at her body in the big mirror which took up a large portion of the wall by her dressing room. She was pleased with her body and was proud of the hard work in the gym which maintained her lithe figure that showed no signs of fat. Her breasts were smaller now than when she had married, but they were still firm and exhibited no hint of sagging.
She studied her athletic figure in the reflection and decided the tan line from her thong was more distinct than that of the tiny top she wore, or did not wear, according to the company. She made a mental note to wear the top more often, then giggled to herself. If she wanted to lose the contrast she would just sunbathe in the nude from now on. It didn’t seem as important now to maintain what little modesty she still thought appropriate before this past weekend.
When Mona finished her shower and dried off, she pulled on a terrycloth robe and sat at her dressing table and combed her short hair. It was still its original color, and she found it easier to manage with her vigorous lifestyle if she did not let it grow out. She was pleased with herself in general, but deep down she wondered why she could no longer interest her husband in her body. She knew men often looked at her when she passed them on the street, and she often noticed the eyes of Bobby’s friends follow her as she walked around the house.
She went downstairs and found Art still busy with the paper. He put it down when she came into the library, and he joined her at the dark mahogany bar as she splashed some brandy into a crystal glass. It was just eleven in the morning, but she had little sleep the night before in Lexington and the plane had left for Atlanta before six. She had been home a little before ten, but the day was already old for her.
She took a sip from the glass and turned to her husband.
“The apartment was just what Bobby wanted, but it won’t be ready for him to move in until the middle of the week. They stored his stuff for him and we stayed at the motel because they are still painting. I just paid for the room for the rest of the week, and he’ll start classes on Friday. Today he has orientation.” She put down the glass and wished she still smoked.
Art nodded. “You don’t usually drink in the morning, Mona. Is everything okay?”
“Oh, it’s alright, but Bobby has been around commerce so much he’s already trying to set up his own business out of the apartment. He wasn’t in Lexington an hour when he noticed all the cute girls. He says he is going to get started making money with his laptop and the new digital camera.”
Art grinned. “Maybe something rubbed off on him. What’s he going to do?
“He heard on television how much money people are making with internet porn, and he’s decided he’s going to try it himself. I have to give him credit, he’s already checked on what’s legal and what isn’t, and he has set up accounts to take credit cards online. He tells me he’ll get started when he’s well grounded in his classes, and I made him promise he’d have to put college first.”
Art just nodded again and looked like he was lost in thought. Mona wondered what he was thinking, then she asked, “Do you think it’s okay for him to do that, Art?”
For almost a minute her husband stared out the window, then turned to her.
“Mona it depends on his overhead. Where is he going to get models? Does he intend to take his own photos? Models don’t come cheap, and his allowance won’t rent him much time with college girls, that is assuming he’ll be able to find any. He won’t have much overhead with equipment and space. He can use his own apartment, but I’m guessing his problem will be just that, getting girls to willingly participate.”
Mona smiled at her husband. It was his clear thinking that made him all his money, although he was sounding out the problems that Mona and her son had discussed when Bobby first brought up his idea for internet porn. Bobby had the same gifts as his stepfather; a clear head, a persuasive manner, and problem solving abilities.
“Art, he thinks he has it figured out. He intends to find a small group of girls who will work for a percentage of the business. He thinks they’ll work harder if they’re co-owners, and he will take up the male parts to save money. He figures five girls at four percent each, and he’s in business.”
“That sounds all well and good,” Art said, “if he can work out the artistic details. He won’t do anything at all if he just takes naked pictures of college girls. Anyone can do that.”
Mona smiled at her husband and took another sip from the crystal glass.
“Art, he’s thinking of that already. He doesn’t have a bad eye,” she giggled. “I already own my four percent.”
Art Smith raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“We had a long talk Saturday night, and he asked me if I’d do some dummy photos, just to see how he would do with the camera. Nothing sexual you understand, just learning how to use the remote switch, and how much light, and such.”
Art nodded his assent. “Well, I guess that makes sense, although four percent is a lot for dummy photos he can’t use.”
“He really did well” Mona replied. “He sent six of the pictures to my email address, and I’ll show you what his work looks like. It didn’t turn out exactly the way he predicted, so I told him I didn’t want to use the pictures unless he just had to put them in a t.g.p.”
“What’s a t.g.p.?”
“A thumbnail gallery post,” Mona said. “It’s several smaller pictures you blow up on the screen by clicking on them. You’ll see.”
Mona walked to the desk and got immediately into her mailbox. She pulled up Bobby’s message. “See what he says Art? The photos turned out well when he adjusted the lighting.”
Mona clicked on the first photograph as Art watched and studied the screen as the picture came into view. It depicted his wife and her son nude, Mona on her haunches in front of Bobby, his erect cock dangerously close to her open mouth.
“Mona, I thought you said it wasn’t sexual. His cock is in your mouth. Just what the hell is this?”
“Now Art, don’t get all upset. Bobby and I talked this over for almost an hour. I agreed to do it after I took my shower before we went to bed. He pointed out I sunbathe topless in front of him at home, and sometimes I’m nude when I shower off the chlorine from the pool. I thought about it, and decided it was right, that what he said. This just simulates sex, and his cock just rested lightly on my bottom lip, and he only took one like this. See where his left hand is by my neck. That’s where the remote switch was. He said this one needed to look like male dominance over woman, that is with me squatting at his feet and his penis ready to make the plunge..”
“I’m not really comfortable with this, Mona. After all, you’re a married woman.”
“Well, like I said, Art, it’s not sexual one bit. He had to turn on a dirty movie to even get an erection, and think about it. You took us to the Cayman Islands two years ago and we all swam at the totally nude beach for a week. We all saw each other naked all week long.”
“I guess you’re right, Dear. He does need to get the hang of it with the equipment, and as long as it doesn’t involve gratuitous sex I suppose it’s okay.”
“You’re right, Art, as usual. It’s your influence that moved him toward business,” Mona added as she clicked on the next image. Both were nude on the bed, Bobby on his back and Mona on her knees with her extended tongue out, partly obscured by her son's eight inch prick.
Art looked at the screen and squinted his eyes. Then he walked to the table by his chair and returned with his glasses.
“Mona, this really doesn’t look good. I mean it’s a decent picture, but look, your tongue is licking his cock like a lollipop. I suppose you’re going to tell me that’s not sexual.”
“Art, I have to keep explaining this to you. The continuing theme here is woman’s subservience to man, and I wasn’t really licking his penis. I was supposed to be just hovering over it with my mouth open when Bobby coughed. You know how he gets in cold air conditioning after he had the flu. He said we needed to keep it cold so my nipples would stay hard, and when he coughed and rocked the bed my tongue inadvertently touched just the very end of it.”
“Well, I suppose I have to give you the benefit of the doubt, but anyone who doesn’t know you would think differently.”
“Art, you’re a businessman, and you understand how difficult it is to get a money-making operation started. Over half of all small businesses fail the first year, you told me yourself. I wouldn’t want Bobby to fail in his Freshman year.”
Art nodded again, and Mona clickeded the mouse to show her in the same position on the bed except this time two inches of Bobby's cock was buried in her mouth.
Art gazed at the screen and walked to the bar. He filled another crystal glass with brandy and returned to the computer.
“Well, Mona, explain this. You’re sucking your son’s dick!”
Mona looked carefully at the screen, then clicked on the zoom icon. The picture doubled in size.
“Art, this is meant to be a sexy picture, with the woman looking up for approval from the man she is attending. This was taken just as he started coughing again, and with his hand on the back of my head his dick kept getting in my mouth. I shut my mouth at first, but he kept coughing and I was really worried about him, and when I asked if he was okay it slid in and out again. When he stopped coughing his hand just had a rhythm of its own. After all, he is a young, healthy man and he kept taking pictures through the fit. He really is dedicated to getting this business going well.”
“Mona, I know he’s my stepson, but I may be a little mad at him. I know it isn’t supposed to be sexual, but it sure looks like it might be.”
“That’s the idea,” Mona said. “We are trying to create an image people will pay to look at. Imagine what his photos will be like with a college girl for a willing sexual partner. Talk about erotic.”
“How long did he cough? I mean, is he okay?”
“Oh, he coughed for a good four or five minutes. I was really worried about him.”
Art nodded again, but looked doubtful as Mona clicked on the next image. Bobby was standing again and his dick was just poised at his mother's lips.
Art looked at the next picture very carefully, then up at his wife.
“I guess I’m going to have to hear about this one, Mona. That looks a lot like sperm on the left side of your cheek and on your tongue. Is that what it is?”
“Art, I know this one is a little questionable but it really wasn’t Bobby’s fault. When he got over the coughing and caught his breath, he stood up and I squatted at his feet again to make another few pictures like the first. You know, he is a young man, and he couldn’t help it. He coughed so long I guess somewhere between coughing and standing up he shot off in my mouth. He was really embarrassed, but even with that he was able to take a few more pictures as I simulated licking it off his penis. He told me later he didn’t really mean to do it, and I accepted his apology and so should you. You act like I was willingly giving my son a blowjob. That’s disgusting.”
“Okay, I guess that explains it, but I’m not so sure I like the idea of another man shooting off in my wife’s mouth, even if it is her son and it was a mistake. I’m glad that’s over. Can you at least understand how I feel?”
Mona turned on the chair and gently squeezed her husband’s knee. “I guess I do, Art. There was only one more set of pictures and we thought it wouldn’t hurt since he already had a huge orgasm. He wanted to have some pictures of the positions used in sexual intercourse so he could know how to set them up without actual penetration. I haven’t looked at any of these and I’m not sure he was as successful in these as the first. I was really in doubt about the last one and when we were done I really scolded him about it. The way he set it up I couldn’t exactly see past my pubic mound to tell exactly where he had his penis, although from the way it felt I was immediately suspicious. It was my orgasm that finally tipped it off, and for that, Art, I am very sorry, but you have always told me that mistakes are made in business every day. It wasn’t like we were intentionally doing it.”
Mona clicked on the last photo. Mona was on her back on the king-size bed, her head thrown back and her legs wide apart and raised. Bobby's cock was almost half it's length in her shaved pussy.
They looked at the picture together and it was Mona who finally commented.
“You know, Art, I am going to insist that Bobby takes at least two classes in business ethics. He told me he wouldn’t consider what we had done as actual intercourse, but really, that’s not true. It looks from here like his penis has actually penetrated me. He was either fibbing when he said my orgasm was situationally induced rather than sexual, or he was really careless. To tell the truth, I think he was lying.”
Art didn’t answer, and she could hear his breath coming in longer gasps as his right hand traced its way under the robe and up her leg. When his finger penetrated her wet lips and slid into her cunt, Mona spread her legs and smiled at her husband with his renewed awareness of her sex. She was really going to need to have a serious talk with her Bobby about another four percent share.