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Em: Hmmm... we are ranging into unfamiliar topography.
Me (interestedly): So, what was it?
Em (feigning ignorance): What was what?
Me: The state you were in.
Em: I am not very bright on these matters. I am somewhat confused by the subtleties between mum-man and woman-son. But, assuming what I understand is correct, it is mum-man. I was most definitely in a mum mental frame. And I saw David as man first, son second.
Me: Remember the intimate photos that I would like to take of us? What do you think if we get David to take them for us when he returns?
Em: What? Are you out of your feverish mind?
Me: The conditions here are just perfect. We are in the mood, in the groove. We are in the privacy of our room. Tonight is a once a lifetime significant milestone in our lives, as well as for our family including David. David has proven to be an absolute gentleman so far. Having a trusted family member take our intimate photos is better than having an outsider such as a professional photographer, or a relative do it. You can never be sure if the photos are leaked out.
Em: Hmmm... we'll be crossing the line with our son.
Me: We have the remote control to control the room illumination. We can dim the lights. Arrange ourselves into intimate poses. We pose in such a way that we conceal your lady charms, nipples, and my genitals. And when we are ready, we will illuminate the room momentarily. David can take a shot. We dim the lights again. Repose. Repeat the cycle. Say, ten pictures. David will have fleeting glimpses of us only. Your feminine bits will be concealed.
Em: Are you serious?
I caress her muff again. It has since gone from moist to sopping wet. As is my glistening penis head.
Me: Just a little harmless tingling fun, as we capture our intimate moments for posterity, on this very special night. We are fifty only once in our lifetime.
Em (warming up to the idea): What does intimate mean? Are we having heaving, caterwauling sex in front of our son? Is that what you want? A carnal fest of exhibitionism, voyeurism, sex and simmering taboo? What will our son think of us? More importantly, what will our son think of his mum? Of me?
Me: It doesn't make a difference whether we do, or we don't. Our privates will be concealed from view throughout. In any case, like the rest of the pictures we have taken tonight, there will be no lewd and lusty shots. We stay faithful to our script.
Em (apparently softening up to my persuasive powers): Hmmm... living up your latent exhibitionist fantasies, are we? I'll be embarrassed facing off David.
Me: Let's do this. You don your bathrobe and go into the washroom after this to freshen your makeup. When David returns, I will request his help to take some pictures for us since I don't have a tripod. Kind of like help us finish off our photoshoot session, for the photos where using the self timer will deliver less than optimal results. This being our special night, the pictures will mean alot to us. I will explain to David that you are camera shy. Thus, we will pose in dim light, and when we are ready, we will brighten the lights, and he can take the shot. We then repeat the cycle.
Em: Hmmm... I'm beginning to suspect that this whole charade is precision engineered. Contrived by an overheated perverse mind.
Me: Whatever. I don't pretend to deny the charge that I get from this. Anyway, you will come out of the washroom in your bathrobe before the first pose. I will dim the lights. You disrobe in the dark. We pose. Then, after the last pose is done, you go back to the washroom to clean your makeup. I will put on my robe. You then dress up. We reconvene at the lounge to celebrate and chill with David. This way, you don't have to engage David much during the photoshoot.
Em: Hmmm... yes, Mister Porn Director! The things you make me do!
As a sign of tacit approval, Em sashays to the washroom with exaggerated reluctance.
The doorbell chimes. I let David in. He bears a bouquet of fiery red strawberries. He betrays his interest in seeking out his mum by his furtive scan of our room, and then, the now featureless TV monitor.
Me: Thank you so much for the lovely strawberries. Very thoughtful of you.
David: Mum loves strawberries! It pairs well with champagne. Where is mum?
Me: Oh, mum is in the washroom, freshening up her makeup. David, this is awkward! I wonder if I can ask a favour from you?
David: Dad, shoot! This is your and mum's special night. Nothing is too big an ask. Now, how can I help?
Me: Well, you see, this is a very memorable night for your mum and I. I have taken some pictures of mum. I would like now to take some pictures of us together. But, I don't have a tripod. And as you know, self timer pictures don't pan out well one way or another. I don't wish to trivialise our special night here with wefies. Will you be so kind as to take a few pictures for us? This is my Nikon. A basic model. It's quite simple to operate.
David: No problem at all, dad. I have a Nikon of my own.
Me: Oh, one more thing. Our pictures will involve degrees of nudity, and some artistically rendered intimate poses. We are in the mood, you see. As we hit our big five-o, we want a visual record of our bodies at this significant milestone. I hope you don't mind? I hope it won't be too awkward for you?
David: Errr... will this be awkward for mum? And my seeing both of you naked, you OK with this?
Me: Well, for me, there is nothing much for you to see, ha ha! Mum and I have discussed this. She was initially uncomfortable. But, I have persuaded her. We are cool. We reckon better you as family member be the photographer than an outsider. In any case, where are we going to source a photographer at this hour? We do so want our pictures to be dated on the actual day of our anniversary, and mum's birthday. Mum can be maddeningly pedantic about such details. So, all the more reason that we have to get your help.
David: Cool! You know, I took a photography course module in uni. Nudes was part of the curriculum. This is a good time for mum and you to recoup your investment in my education, ha ha!
Me: I should let you know that your mum is hopelessly camera shy. I will use the remote control to dim the lights. We pose. We brighten the lights when we are ready for you to shoot. We then repeat the cycle. I know this dimming and brightening of lights routine is somewhat strange, if not downright comical. But this is what makes mum comfortable. I do want her to be relaxed for the pictures to turn out well. We will take ten shots.
David: Cool! Let's do whatever to help mum to be at ease.
Me: Great! We can get started. I will get mum.
I get Em. She emerges from the washroom in her bathrobe.
Em (sheepishly): Thanks David, for helping us out. I am only doing this because of your dad's inane persistence.
David: Mum, you look absolutely gorgeous! You are a piece of work! This alone is a necessary and sufficient reason to immortalise you on pixels.
Em (sceptical, but feeling validated): Hmmm... looks like I raised an inveterate liar! And I love you for that.
I dim the lights. I disrobe. Em hesitates for a moment, consciously scanning the dimness for David, not finding him, and then disrobes.
***
First shot.
We are standing, facing the camera. I get behind Em. She leans forward ever so slightly. My hands cup the underside of her breasts concealing them up to her nipples. Em minimises her right hand, covering her mound, teasingly only just so. Her left arm stretches back, her hand pressing my arse to her to cement our pose. I nestle my penis between Em's arse cheeks, the head nudging reachingly into her slit.
I do a pose check. Yes, our significant bits are concealed. I brighten the lights.
This is the first shot. David takes awhile to adjust to the photoshoot dynamics, and the sudden transition from dim to bright light. Or, maybe he is checking his mum out surreptitiously. I hope that he will take the shot soon because I can't resist sliding my penis any longer.
Click.
Dim.
***
Second shot.
A sitting coupling series. I sit on the chair facing the camera. Em parts her legs sitting astride my lap, facing me, her back to the camera. This pose accentuates her sacral dimples. We make some fine bodily adjustments. I am in Em. My hands cupping her breasts. Em's arms circle behind my back to possess me. We kiss passionately.
Lights.
Click.
Dim.
***
Third shot.
As before, I sit on the chair facing the camera. Em sits on my lap. She is facing the camera too, at an oblique angle. We make some bodily adjustments. My erect penis slips silkenly into her vagina. My hands cup Em's breasts concealing her nipples. Em places her right hand over her crotch coyly, covering my penetration, but only just so, leaving scope for titillating imagination. I do a pose check.
Lights.
Click.
David: This is a nice intimate pose. Is it OK if I move around to take some perspective shots?
I assess our pose. Our intimate bits are artfully concealed. I look at Em. She smiles in tacit assent.
Me: OK. You are the photographer. You can best assess the angles and perspectives. We'll leave it to your aesthetic discretion for this, and the follow-on poses.
David circles our tangled bodies. He asks Em and me to look this way and that, to add variety and focus to the pose.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Dim.
***
Fourth shot.
A variation of the third. I sit on the chair facing the camera as before. Em stands in front of me, facing me, her back to the camera. She inclines her body towards me suggestively. I place my hands on her breasts. Em bends her right leg at her knee, dangling her high heels on her toes. Come hither.
Lights.
Click.
By this time, David has the implicit awareness that we do not feel comfortable revealing Em's nipples and our genitals. So, he didn't offer to take the perspective shots for this pose even though we have granted him artistic license.
Dim.
***
Fifth shot.
I sit on the chair facing the camera as before. Em stands in front of me, facing me, her back to the camera. She tilts her head as if staring down piercingly, severely at me. Em surprises me. She raises her right leg, and plants her high heels at my crotch, but first, mercifully taking care not to puncture my sac. I gasp. I plant my hands gingerly on her breasts. Hmmm... can David can see his mum's slightly upraised lower cleft in this pose? But, since Em is at ease with this as the pose is her composition, I am cool. My wife the dominatrix! Oh well, you learn something new everyday.
Lights.
Click.
Again, our son the gentleman, knows better not to take the perspective shots as his mum's genitals are exposed.
Dim.
***
Sixth shot.
A standing coupling series. Em and I are standing facing each other. My penis nestles between Em's thighs. Thus primed, I make entry. Em circles her arms around my neck in possessive suffocation. My hands grip her buttocks with matching intensity. Em's breasts are squashed against my chest. Em bends her right leg, flirtatiously dangling her high heels on her toes.
Lights.
Click.
David goes around us to take the perspective shots. I can feel Em meld closer so that her breasts, and our genitals, are concealed in a searing tangle.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Dim.
***
Seventh shot.
The frisson is palpable. A more engaged variation of the previous pose. Em and I are standing facing each other. She clings tightly onto me. Her arms are around my neck in possessive lock. Em wraps her legs around my waist in a merciless vice grip. I make sloshful entry. I can't help it. Perhaps David heard? I am so moved by the white heat of the moment. I pump four frenzied shuddering strokes. Em is mortified by my cavalier abandon in the presence of our son. I summon all my will to stop. The tension taut. Em is photographically primed. Her face is in a kind of mid-fuck ecstasy.
Lights.
Click.
David goes around us to take the perspective shots. He angles this way and that to capture the erotic essence of our pose. Em duly tightens her clasp on me, to conceal our private bits.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Dim.
***
Eighth shot.
Me (whispering): Classic woman on top cowgirl.
Em (gasping): Oh, my god!
I lie down flat on the carpet. My legs together in parallel. I guide Em to sit astride me, on my genitals, facing me. I place my palms on Em's breasts, just so, up to her nipples. We make fine bodily adjustments. I enter Em's wetness. Can David hear my squishing entry? Can he smell the tang wafting in the air? Em places her left hand to conceal my penetration. She places her right hand just behind her right hip, girding her torso upright in a soft arc. She then looks intensely away from the camera as if focusing on something of interest in the distance.
Em then surprises me completely. She begins to bounce on me with frantic vigour. One, two, three, four. In rhythmic rising cadence. We emit wet musical notes. Can David hear us through the translucent dimness? When she stops momentarily, I assume that we are ready and primed for our shot.
Lights.
To my amazement and shock, a seemingly charged and dazed Em, restarts her movement again, presumably after her moment of breather. She then instantly realises, to her horror, that the lights are on. She freezes. Did David see this arrested movement?
David is momentarily stunned by this sensual sea change.
He gasps audibly.
Click.
David appears to deliberate on whether to take any perspective shots because he cannot be sure if all our privates all concealed. As the lights remain on after a few seconds, he interprets this as tacit approval.
David must have discerned the unfulfilled mid-fuck ecstasy on his mum's face. He captures a facial close-up to freeze the intensity of her moment.
Click.
Climbing down somewhat from the sensual high, David asks us to look this way and that to add variety to the pose.
Click.
Click.
I cannot be sure whether David is opportunistically checking out his mum, or just being professional and painstakingly thorough, orbiting us, one, two, then three rounds, as he shoots us. I feel Em's innards twitch in consonance to the crisp camera clicks.
David (somewhat boldly): Mum, arc your body, look up to the ceiling, to add dramatic effect to the pose.
Click.
Dim.
***
Ninth shot.
Me (whispering): Classic reverse cowgirl.
Em: Oh, god! Do we have to do this? This is smut.
Me: It is just a minor variation from the previous pose. Just a flip of orientation.
As before, I lie down flat on the carpet. My legs together in parallel. Em sits astride me, on my crotch, facing away from me, towards the camera. I snake my arms around Em, half-cupping her breasts, up to her nipples. We make fine bodily calibrations. I breach Em's fount of wet warmth. Can David hear my popping entry? Can he smell the sharp tang as I do? Em places her left hand to coyly conceal my penetration. She places her right hand just behind her right hip, buttressing her torso upright in a dramatic arc. She then looks rivetingly away from the camera as if focusing on something that is more compelling than our clammy union.
Lights.
Click.
This time, David takes the perspective shots unabashedly. He circles us predatorally, with purposeful confidence, issuing us instructions, capturing us this way and that. Our son is swimmingly in his element, brandishing his range of photography skills with artistic buoyancy.
And then, David surprises us, particularly Em. His photoshoot moves on to focus solely on Em, as if she is statuesquely mounted on a pedestal. David crouches and lies low on the floor, shooting up his mum this way and that from all manner of angles.
Em initially did not know how to respond to this renewed photographic assault. After a few shots, she warms up. I sense her most intimate sinews slacken. We maintain our modesty level. Our privates continue to be concealed.
Click.
Click.
Click.
David: Mum, can I make a pose variation request?
Em: Sure!
David: Instead of dad covering your breasts, can you do that with one arm? I will look away while you do that.
Em: How?
David: Arch your torso dramatically. Thrust out your chest loud and proud. Coyly cover your breasts by draping your right arm across them, pushing them up, heightening your cleavage, covering no higher than your nipples. Continue to place your left hand to, coquettishly, conceal your crotch.
Em (complying): Hmmm... getting a tad naughty here, are we?
David looks away while we repose.
I feel a series of tingling twitches. I cannot be sure if it is Em convulsing under the glare of the heat, or it is me. In all likelihood, both.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Me: Moving on.
Dim.
***
Tenth shot.
All too soon, our final shot, or rather final pose. I instinctively make up my mind to raise the game level. Ratchet up the tension to its peak in a rousing finale.
I lead Em to the bed. I position Em in a classic doggy posture, facing the camera. I position behind Em. I am about to enter Em when she turns around, realising what is coming.
Em (whispering in angry protest): No! No way! This is crossing the line. Not in front of our son!
Me: It's not so different from the other poses. My penetration is hidden from view. I will bend forward to cup your breasts, concealing them. None of our privates are exposed. And you may look away from the camera. There will not be any perspective shots for this pose. Please? This is our last shot.
Em (shaking her head in dissonance): I must have my head examined!
I read Em assuming again her doggy posture as tacit agreement. And when I enter her cavern of wetness, her affirmation is complete. I lean foreward. I cup Em's breasts, concealing her hush puppies only just so, up to her nipples. Em looks fixatedly away from the camera, to the left. I hump Em impulsively, four thrusts in rapid fire succession. Is that Em responding in recoil? In this frenzy, it is hard to tell. And then one final thrust, which leaves my rod in full measure buried deep in her far sanctum. Em shudders. Did David hear my animistic growl and Em's groan? Can he sense the piquant vinegarish scent in the air? We are primed.
Lights.
David is dumbstruck by the primal scene splayed before him. He is in suspended animation, in a pleasant stupor, processing the imagery before him.
Me (prompting): David, we are good to go for number 10!
Click.
I discern that David is about to make a move to take the perspective shots.
Me: David, thanks! This is it! We are done! If you don't mind, I will dim the lights for a few seconds.
As I dim the lights, I detect a fleeting unfulfilled look of disappointment, of lost opportunity, on David's face. It is evident that he wants to take the perspective shots, and in so doing, check out his mum, for the last time. For a brief moment, I am persuaded to let him round off the photoshoot in the best way he deems fit. After all, he has formal photography training in his uni course. And we did grant him a measure of artistic license. Then, I remember the promise I made to Em that there will be no perspective shots for this pose.
Em disentangles from our clammy union. A new release of musty smell permeates the air. She hurriedly dons her bathrobe, and makes a beeline to the washroom. I throw on my bathrobe, then turn the lights on.
I walk over to David. As he gingerly lays my camera on the coffee table, I notice that his trousers are disheveled. Hmmm... tough day at the office!
Me: Mum is freshening up in the washroom. She'll be out shortly for the champagne and cake.
David: Mum did well! Once she got into the groove, she posed like a pro. Grace. And lithe athleticism when called for.
