Front Leg Across

"Oh, the crotches are there," said Merrill breathily. "Mine is getting quite juicy as I watch ten balls turn blue."

At least three of the men groaned, but cameras continued to click and whirr.

Merrill then said, "And now, in the name of Georgia O'Keefe, Frida Kahlo, and every other sexually aware woman who ever lived, get the front leg the hell out of the way! Face your photogs, and pop these pussies!"

Laughter rang out from then on, as the women split their beavers to show the varieties of vaginal life stage, preference, and adornment. Jessie had snow-white fringe, Darla gray tufts above and on either side of labia she fingered lightly, Simone a bright gold clit ring beneath a salt-and-pepper Brazilian, Merrill a full shave with tattooed stars on either side (with the lights picking up her high, round mons), Ursula a multicolored storm of artistic ink.

The vidcams went to closeups, to capture what the host site was paying for. Simone thought that the operators were doing a decent job of featuring the skins and bodies of all ages, but she had no control over what the site chose to put in the stream. She intended to provide the proper balance in her final edit of the recorded documentary.

Soon, Simone decided that it was time to deliver the message.

"We do this proudly!" declared Simone, holding her breasts up and out. "Nobody is harmed, and everybody wins! Happy National Nude Day to all! Celebrate in joy and fun!"

The club stopped shooting long enough to applaud, cheer, and rearrange their anatomies.

After another minute of fully-shown vulvas, Ursula spun halfway, bent over, spread her butt cheeks, and yelled over her shoulder, "Asshole! In a nonbinary world, it's fun for everybody!"

Jessie chuckled. "That's my cue to leave the shoot."

"I'm with you," said Darla. They helped each other to depart from the backdrop.

***

Simone made sure that the professional caregivers for Jessie and Walt spent the late afternoon with them, and watched over their naps. Darla and Mark entered their cardio data into their phone apps, and then borrowed Ursula and Kal's room for 'gentle playtime.'

Later, Darla barged in to the suite where Simone was trying to look over video from the photo shoot. The work was stalled as Simone had to receive several minutes of tearful thanks from her mother.

Although Simone still had plenty to do for the film as a whole, that night in the camera-club ballroom there was a wrap banquet for the Maternal Line, significant others, camera club, and crew.

As dessert was served, Jessie asked to speak, and Simone got everyone else to pipe down.

"Sixty-four years ago," said Jessie, "I showed Darla some photo albums that Walt and I hid under the bed. My bold nude pictures, snapped and developed so fondly by Walt. For today, I have another archive, which I made sure would be sent to Simone in case something happened, I can't imagine what, to a couple over ninety." She beamed, and a tear showed on an eyelid. "I'm so glad we made it to this day, and this wonderful time with all of you. And I'm so happy I could meet Kal!"

After a round of applause, and Kal's acknowledging wave, Simone said to the others, "I've been getting envelopes and boxes for years now. Gram insisted I keep most of them closed. They've been in the attic. But she wanted them here tonight. Dennis, wheel 'em in."

He did so, in two trips with a handcart.

"Long ago," said Jessie, "Walt and I resigned ourselves to the way our bodies have changed. We make up for that by using our minds even more, and learning about what came before us.

"My parents rarely said anything about the generations before them. They said that their own parents died in the influenza epidemic after World War I, and that their ancestors were ordinary farmers who left few records. I admit, I made this easy on them, by not being very interested.

"Now, however, there are many historical and genealogical resources on the internet. The epidemic part is true, so I never knew my grandparents. Before then, however...it turns out that my grandmother, and her mother and grandmother, ran a family business. A brothel."

The gasps were delayed by incredulity. Mark echoed her: "A...brothel?"

"Yes," said Jessie, enjoying the stunned faces around her. "I'm afraid most of the other terms are fairly negative. A bawdyhouse, a bordello, a cathouse. A place where men paid money to have sex with women."

"Really?" said Simone. She looked around quickly to make sure that one vidcam, on a tripod, was on, and recording. "How were they able to keep it going for so long?"

"When my great-great-grandmother opened her establishment," said Jessie, "it was legal, and she was a respected figure in the community."

Walt chuckled. "Her figure was quite respectable. We found photos of her, displaying her unclad beauty, along with other women in her employ. Even back then, it paid to advertise."

Dennis grabbed a box and tore it open. "Where are they?"

Walt sighed theatrically. "The originals are too fragile. What's here are PDFs, I'm afraid. But they do justice to her."

Darla said, "So, Dad, the photog must have been one of the first recorders of nudity who didn't need a paintbrush!"

He grinned at his daughter. "Believe me, finding this early example of sex from photo plates was a very pleasant surprise. But Jessie's right, these Madams did plenty to earn respect."

"By promoting bathing," said Jessie, "and barrier contraception, these ladies improved public health substantially, in the entire town. They shamed the town into installing water and sewer systems for all residents. Also, the women helped restore the will to live among veterans maimed during the Civil War."

"How did this work?" asked Merrill, baffled. "Bribery?"

"One of America's surprising secrets," said Jessie, "is that prostitution was widely accepted in many places, and seen as beneficial. Then, some intolerant clergymen began campaigning against it. What had been mainly a woman-run enterprise, in the open, was then transformed into a shady operation in the European tradition, with male procurers taking control."

Simone looked dazed. "This project just got an hour longer, and a shot at a Peabody Award."

"Poor Simone," said Cleve, laughing. "She'll have to deal with admiration!"

Ursula counted, and almost ran out of fingers. "So my libertinism goes back eight generations."

"If not more," Mark followed in a stunned mumble.

"Sadly," said Walt, "Jessie's grandmother caught the worst of it, in addition to influenza. The state passed laws that defined what she ran as a 'disorderly house,' and she was forced out of business. Her own daughter must have been nervous and defensive about the connection, and hid it from Jessie."

"I would like to have asked her," said Jessie, "if she herself plied the trade, before fleeing to respectability and marrying my office-working father."

"She may have spent much of her life hiding her libido," said Walt, with a smile toward Jessie, "but clearly she passed it along."

Jessie looked around the room, and raised her water bottle. "And, thank heaven, with the help of nurture, it bred true!"

With great cheer, they all drank to that.