Margo and Her Mom are Discovered

Ethel was tired of hearing how much money models make. Ethel's daughter, Margo, was 5'9" tall and a size 7. Actually Margo ate very little because she knew one day she would be a model. She would work in New York City and do either runway or photo work. Mostly runway, or fashion shoots. She was too thin to do swimsuit. Every time Margo asked her about taking modeling classes Ethel had stomach cramps. Modeling school was expensive. About $10-12,000 for a 12 week program. As a single mother, Ethel didn't have that kind of money. She wanted to buy a new car. What she needed was to find a photographer, someone to "discover" Margo. Photographers usually hung out in shopping malls. Well, actually, reputable photographers were busy shooting ads, or layouts. They weren't lurking in malls waiting for nubile nitwits.

Margo was 19 years old, and attending junior college, hoping to get an associates degree in either programming or fashion design. As a programmer she could learn Java, HTML, and a few other languages. In fashion design she could go to Paris, Milan, or worst case, New York City. Like all girls her age, she masturbated every day. Some days when her bio-rhythms were high, she'd masturbate 5-6 times a day.

Ethel, at 37 years old, was working part time as a paralegal. She worked for a criminal defense attorney, who clients were usually gang bangers or drug dealers. His name was Alfonse, or Al. She hated her job. She hoped that Margo would make some good money so she could quit her job and let Margo support her. For a quick visual, Ethel was 5'6", brunette and very curvy. She had never posed for anyone except an old boy friend in high school.

By a quirk of fate, Al called her one day with a great piece of news.

"Hey, Ethel, one of my clients got arrested for beating up his ex-wife ..."

"OK. Good for you. What does that have to do with me? "

"He's a very gentle guy. His ex had it in for him. He caught her in bed with two male strippers ..."

"I'm listening, Al ... "

"Ethel, you're always talking about Margo being discovered by a photographer. This guy is really good. I've seen his work."

"And?????"

"He's always looking for new talent. Can I tell him about Margo?"

Ethel imagined the possibilities. She could quit her crummy job.

"Sure, why not?"

Two days later, Ethel got a call from the photographer. His name was Victor. He was Russian. Victor worked with lots of models and shot for Bazaar and Vogue. But occasionally he'd submit something to Playboy, just for laughs. He knew Playboy had their own photographers.

They spoke briefly and set up an appointment for a Friday morning photo shoot. Ethel and Margo would both go to the studio on E. 66th Street. Victor told them what to bring, but also added he likes to shoot women in rags. Like ripped jeans, torn work shirts, or dresses dipped in battery acid. He specifically told Ethel not to buy any new clothes. Margo was so excited, she didn't eat for two days. Ethel brought some chocolate bars for energy, otherwise Margo would probably pass out from hunger on the set. Victor also mentioned his stylist would do their makeup.

The day for the shoot arrived. Their appointment was for 10 AM. Ethel fortified herself with two glasses of burgundy. Margo didn't drink. When they reached the studio, they were impressed by the size of it, ceilings were 15 feet high, and there were strobes, reflectors, and all kinds of lighting equipment. Victor has two assistants, two sisters who would be available during the shoot. They were Italians, who both looked like a young Sofia Loren. They had big boobs, and lots of wild hair, and looked hungry. If you know what I mean.

Margo was going to be photographed first. Maybe Victor would decide to take some shots of Ethel too. Victor explained these were "test shots", not for publication, he wanted to see what Margo had to offer. His stylist did her eye liner, and used a smattering of blush. Margo first put on a shirt that looked like it was bought at Goodwill. Or donated by a homeless man. No skirt, just a thong. Her legs were terrific, long, and toned. The shirt had two buttons missing. No bra.

Victor told her to lie down on a beat up sofa which, new, probably cost $10,000. It was a 90-inch sofa. Victor had found it in a used furniture store and paid $75 for it. The contrast was startling - a beautiful, long legged, half naked Margo posing on a trashy, discarded piece of furniture.

Victor told Margo what he wanted her to do. "Margo, I want to see motion. Don't strike poses. I do not want stiff poses. Lie on the sofa, and roll your hips. Squirm a bit, move your legs. Like you're fucking someone ..."

Margo was startled by the language. He wanted her to act like a whore. Which was OK, except that her mother was watching. She felt self conscious.

"It's OK, dear, let yourself go ..." Ethel's voice came from somewhere behind the lighting. Then Ethel added to Victor, "She has a great butt, don't forget to shoot her butt." Victor kept shooting rapidly, the strobes were popping, and Margo in her mind was fucking her favorite movie star.

"Scissor your legs slowly," Victor said. ""Get a lot of energy into your groin ..." He watched her eyes flicker, as she dry humped the sofa. Margo wished she had brought her vibrator. Victor encouraged her to be more open, more free, which Margo thoroughly enjoyed. In her heart her real self was emerging. A total slut. Ethel was getting aroused watching Margo squirm and slither on the sofa. Like an erotic snake.

Victor shot 350 frames in less than 10 minutes. Margo's pussy was wet, her thong was soaked. "OK, babe, now let's see some nipple, massage your tits ..." Victor had suggestions that were fun.

Margo was really enjoying playing with herself. Victor kept shooting. She tried to appear in control, but she needed to get herself off. "Can we take a break?" Margo asked. "I need to go to the ladies' room."

Victor nodded, and one of his assistants, Greta, led Margo to the ladies' room. The other sister, Gloria, was calibrating the strobe output. Margo needed to masturbate and could get herself off in two minutes. She was very close.

Victor was just warming up. He noticed Ethel wide eyed and breathing heavy standing by the big strobe light. In his mind's eye he could picture busty Ethel sucking his cock. "Ethel, have you ever modeled before? You look like you could do lingerie or swimsuit."

"Gee, I don't know," Ethel replied, flattered. "I did a little modeling for my boy friend, but that was in high school ..."

"Here, put this on, I'd like to do a few shots of you ... " He handed her a mid thigh kimono robe. "Just wear the robe. Nothing else." The robe was satin, and would cling to her body. She didn't expect this. But she felt flattered. She went into the dressing room, and returned wearing the flimsy robe. It had a sash, which she had tied, but the moment she moved the thin sash was slipping. She hadn't shaved herself in a while. Only her legs.

"Have some tea. It'll help you relax. Then when you're ready, lie down on the sofa ..." He gave her a cup of tea laced with bourbon. Victor usually gave new models a cup of this special tea. It definitely helped relieve tension.

Her breasts were too big for this kind of maneuver, so she tried not to move too much. Ethel, in reality, loved her boobs. They were full, with a trace of sag, and her stiff nipples sat on wide areola. She spent countless hours admiring herself in the cheval mirror in her bedroom. It made her feel like a French whore. She knew Margo would someday fill out, after she starts eating again. She and Margo joked about walking the streets of Paris, two ladies of the evening.

She drank, or rather gulped, her tea. Then she laid down on her side, facing the camera, the robe covering her to mid thigh. If she planned on moving her hips, like Margo, the robe would barely cover her ass. It was too late for second thoughts.

She could hear Victor's voice through the bourbon fog, "Move your hips, Ethel, give me an S-curve." If he wanted an ass curve, or rather S-curve, she'd give it to him. She rolled her ass cheeks slowly, and the robe was almost imaginary. Was she still wearing it? She wasn't sure. Her cunt was already leaking, the wetness rolling down her inner thighs. Every time she moved her hips it got worse, and she hope Victor would not notice. Who was she kidding? Victor had a good eye - he was a photographer. He wasn't blind.

The robe was open in front and her two big melons were almost totally exposed. Victor was shooting fast. Pop, pop, pop. Ethel was feeling horny and helpless, a perfect combination. Margo had come back from the ladies' room, much more relaxed. She looked at her mother on the sofa, exposed , and looking like she was enjoying herself a little too much. Ethel did not look motherly. She was perspiring and her breathing was shallow.

"Mom, are you OK?"

Ethel was on the verge of an orgasm. Victor knew this. It was his job to sense these things. He knew women, and knew women loved being watched. He leaned in to Ethel, and whispered, "Ethel, I want you to play with your pussy. I'm going to shoot head and shoulders. Play with it. Feel how slick and open your cunt lips are ..." Ethel loved the dirty words. It turned her on, even more. She nodded, and interpreted Victor's suggestion as a green light.

The robe fell open, and Margo could see her mother's bare belly, her soaked pubic hair, and her meaty labia. Margo could not believe her mother would allow herself to act like a wanton, out of control, lascivious --" Ethel was tugging on a stiff nipple, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. Then she climaxed, her orgasm long and intense. She had been seriously masturbating for the last half hour, edging, and holding back. With Victor encouraging her, she did it. She had two fingers, a Vee, in her cunt. Massaging her clit increased the intensity. She was into her third climax. "Ohhhhhhhhhh ..."

Victor quietly spoke to Margo. "Margo, I'm glad you're back. Can you sit with your mother? I'm going to do head shots while she climaxes. She's a very sensual woman ..." Margo nodded, agreeing. "I want you to touch your mom, play with her a bit, maybe even finger her pussy. Let's keep her mood going ..." Margo liked this suggestion. She had been ogling her mom's tits for years.

"Can I lick her pussy too?"

"Great idea. Yeah, lick her pussy too."

Margo moved onto the sofa, tentatively moved her hand up Ethel's' leg, past her knee. She could feel the wetness between Ethel's thighs. She was afraid to go higher, and break her mother's rhythm. Just Margo's contact was enough to add to Ethel's arousal. She had never felt like this in her life. Being fondled by her daughter, being photographed, having those two sweet Italian whores staring at her. Maybe those sisters weren't so sweet after all. Ethel's cunt was wide open. She was leaking heavily.

Margo stroked her mom's thighs. The sisters were moving closer to the sofa, but out of the camera's range. Victor was mulling over a lesbian motif. He could call it a veritable feast. Or veritable lesbian feast.

"Ladies - get out of your clothes and go sit with Margo. I want all three of you to move onto Ethel. Margo, hold your mom's hands over her head. I want her boobs totally exposed. Gloria, you can fondle Ethel's boobs, and Greta, you lick Ethel's pussy ..."

Ethel heard those words and thought she had died and gone to lesbian heaven.

Margo heard her mother's voice. "Margo, please don't think I'm a bad person. I've been fantasizing for years about something like this ..."

"Shhhhhh, mom. It's OK. Fantasies are good . Everyone has them. And to have one come true is even better."

"But I'm your mother and I didn't expect to have myself eaten by lesbians. Especially with my own daughter watching ..."

"So? What's wrong with lesbians?"

"Well ... nothing really. It's just too good to be true."

"What do you fantasize about?"

"Oh, the usual rape fantasy. Being fucked by three guys at once. Usually the guys are dumb with big cocks."

"The part about dumb isn't too far from reality, Mom ..."

Ethel sighed. She was close to another orgasm. The sisters, Greta and Gloria, really knew what they were doing. They were mauling and licking Ethel. Victor kept yelling, "Great stuff! Great! Keep going!!"

Having trouble breathing, Ethel said, "Margo, when we get home, I'm going to lick your pussy, OK? I've been wanting to do it for so long ... like forever."

"Sure, Mom. And maybe we can try out some new toys too."

"You're gonna make me cum again, Margo ..." Ethel moaned. "You're such a good girl ..."

***

Victor was very happy with Margo and Ethel. Being Friday afternoon, he left early. He was hitting the supermarket on the way home. He needed to buy a few groceries. That's where he met most of his women - in the meat department. Buying steaks for their hungry husbands. The women were hungry too and they were easy pickups. He told them he was a photographer and the rest was easy.

***

Gloria and Greta were still 'turned on' by the orgasmic photo shoot. Victor had never ceased to amaze them. The two of them were in the reception area, discussing whether they should go out for a drink or go home. It was almost closing time, when a model appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"Hi, can we help you?" Gloria asked her.

The woman smiled and asked for Victor. She explained he was on her "go-see" list. She had her modeling portfolio with her.

"Victor is gone for the day," Gloria said. "But maybe I can help you. Can I see your 'book'?"

"Sure," the woman replied. Her name was Nancy, the name on her book. The woman was dressed conservatively, and wore horn rimmed glasses. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She looked like a school teacher.

Greta open the portfolio and was shocked. The first photo was an 11x14 inch beaver shot. Usually the first photo is a headshot. Obviously the woman thought her beaver had more appeal. The labia was wide open, glistening with arousal, and there was a black pubic hair fringe. Greta tried not to look surprised, so she simply said, "Nice ..."

She flipped to the second photo, a close-up of a thick, pink nipple. Clearly the woman's nipple. The third photo was an ass shot, a close-up of an anal pucker. "Hmmmmmm ..." Greta said. "Good shot." Each photo was more lurid than the previous. The last photo was a close-up of Nancy giving some guy a blowjob.

Gloria snickered. "If you don't my asking, Nancy ... why are you showing us these shots? They are totally disgusting."

Nancy replied, "It should be obvious. You're never going to forget me, right? And you'll tell Victor you saw me, and my repulsive photos. And Victor will be curious and want to see them. I get a lot of work, because photographers never forget me. Beautiful models are a dime a dozen ... "