Mom and Sis Try Modelling

It was Wednesday afternoon as I walked into the car park in front of Mr. Epstein's studio. As I got to the door, I could see the receptionist twenty yards inside the large open foyer. Next to the door was an intercom and, when I'd pressed the button, I could see the male receptionist inside talking towards a piece of equipment.

"Good afternoon sir, may I ask your name?"

"Philip Thomas," I replied with what I hoped sounded like a mature assured tone.

"Please come in Mr. Thomas."

I approached the receptionist, walking as maturely as an eighteen-year-old can.

"Your mother will be out in about an hour, Mr. Thomas. She asked if you would wait for her."

As he said these words, he indicated some seats around the outside edge of the room. I took one behind him so I could look around without causing attention.

The walls were covered with pictures of various young models in what I guessed were fashionable outfits. The lingerie pictures were the most interesting for me and I could feel a hardening between my legs as I looked at them.

At forty-three, my mother was clearly a lot older than the models looking down at me. I thought back to how all this had come about.

My mom had been a model in her late teens and early twenties. It was when her 'annoying bust and butt', as she called them, grew too large that her career finished. However, she had still kept in touch with her main photographer, Dick Spicer, who had kept her connected with the business by sending her invitations to modelling events. After a time he retired, but was able to keep sending her invitations.

Mom loved attending the catwalks and in time so did my twenty-five-year-old sister, Brenda, who, unfortunately for a modelling career, was also blessed with big tits and a big ass. It was at one of the recent events that Dick Spicer met mom and Brenda, and told them about the opportunity that had just arisen in our town of Carville.

It appeared that Bert Epstein, who had a studio in Carville, was looking for models with fuller figures for some specialist catalogs. Mom and sis sent in some photos with the result that mom was invited to two modelling sessions, one for evening wear and one for lingerie, and Brenda for a lingerie session.

Dad seemed completely disinterested in mom's upcoming modelling sessions. He was away working a lot, demonstrating some media presentation equipment. He used to take mom to help him, but now he took Gloria, his work assistant. He always seemed tired at weekends and I heard mom complaining to my sister about his lack of sexual interest, which I couldn't understand as I had seen some Viagra pills in his travelling toiletries bag.

Mom was self-employed selling costume jewelry on the internet. She didn't make much, but it was a hobby she enjoyed as it seemed to connect her to the fashion industry. My sister's husband, Douglas, was in the military and seemed to be away in Washington most of the time. My sister did some part-time work but generally was bored at home.

It was not surprising then that both women jumped at the chance to do some modelling. The money was good. For the evening wear modelling, mom was being paid a thousand dollars for taking part in the photo session and would get another three thousand if her photos were used in the 'Ladies Catalog', the 'magazine for the discerning lady'. In addition, mom told me, she would be keeping the dress, which would have been tailored specifically for her, and any make up, such as lipstick, which regulations stipulated could not then be applied to another model.

I sat there in the waiting room watching staff come in and collect an electronic pass from the receptionist at the desk which they then used to open the door next to me to go into the photographic studio. After a while I realized that the door was slow to close behind them and, if I wanted, I could slip in unnoticed, tailgating them.

I noticed a man approaching the door, trying to read his phone at the same time and, as I was bored, followed him in.

I was in a big studio and, as the man I followed dashed off to the right somewhere, I found it easy to stand behind some hoarding props at the back. I could see mom at the front being photographed. She looked gorgeous in a long turquoise dress that clung to her curves without losing her elegance. Her hair was coiffured in a bun that had light tresses hanging, carefully designed to look unintentional. A fringe made her face even more beautiful. She was a natural blonde, but her hair had been colored more golden.

It was not surprising how good she looked. The taxi had arrived at seven this morning to take her for her first dress fitting. After that she was going to the hair stylists for cutting, coloring and blowing; then back for more dress wearing and adjustments, before finally attending make-up.

It had been well worth it. The female photographer was clicking away, taking orders from Mr. Epstein who was sitting behind a bank of computer screens, looking at the photo results. He was a small man and could only just see, when he needed to, over the screens at the live action.

Every now and again, he would shout to mom to change her position. Mom complied, moving gracefully on her stilettos. She had always been able to walk elegantly in heels since her early modelling days.

He would also shout words of encouragement, "You're a credit to your children, Mrs. Thomas. You're a 'mommy' model."

Mom didn't look so happy at being reminded of her age, but continued to follow any instructions he gave.

Suddenly Mr. Epstein shouted he was changing the background color and, with the hit of a button, the white background changed to a very pale blue.

Mom jumped at the sudden change and Mr. Epstein laughed. "Everything is technically advanced now, Mrs. Thomas, the old traditions are no more."

After another twenty minutes of the photographer taking shots from different angles, Mr. Epstein seemed to be near the end.

"I just want some shots taken with a deeper shade of lipstick", he shouted.

At that moment a woman came in by a side door, holding her electronic pass, and walked up to mom. Mom pursed her lips and the make-up artist applied the new shade. The woman then disappeared out of the side door.

The photographer took some more photos, but Mr. Epstein did not seem interested in the result and soon called a close, whereupon everybody else except mom and Mr. Epstein miraculously disappeared.

At this point Mr. Epstein moved away from his control panel and sat on a couch facing mom. Mom walked towards him and stopped nervously about two yards away. I could see why he had not been interested in photographs with the darker lipstick shade. Mom no longer looked so elegant. Her deep ruby lips gave her face a very sexy appearance, which was not what the catalog wanted.

"How have I done Mr. Epstein?" she asked nervously.

Mr. Epstein smiled, "Honey, you were very good. Your photos stand a great chance of me putting them in the catalog."

Mom smiled gratefully.

Then Mr. Epstein continued, "Of course I could decide now that they would definitely be in the catalog. In which case, I would be paying you four thousand dollars now, instead of one thousand."

His hands started to undo his trouser belt.

"My friend, Dick Spicer, tells me that when you were modelling for him, you had one skill in particular that he really appreciated."

His belt was now fully undone and he'd started unbuttoning his pants.

The look on mom's face was a very sardonic smile.

As she walked towards him, she said in a very sarcastic tone, "So not all the old traditions are dead yet?"

I could see now why he'd wanted her to wear the dark lipstick. He'd made her mouth sensuous and inviting, primed for fellatio.

As she knelt in front of him, he'd already slipped his pants and boxers off his legs and was sitting back with his hands behind his head.

"I guessed that mommy could do with the money," he said smugly.

His relaxed demeanor told me that this was not the first time he had expected his model to do her duty.

His cock was looking thickened but was not erect. The carpet mom was kneeling on looked worn, probably, I thought, from his previous performers.

I couldn't believe that mom was going to do this. I knew that the extra three thousand dollars would be very welcome to her at the moment, but I thought that she could never be unfaithful to dad.

I was wrong. Whether it was the money or the satisfaction of appearing in a published catalog I didn't know. She grasped him in her right hand and leant her head forward, sucking him into her mouth. He gave an appreciative groan as she bobbed her head quickly a few times. As she paused momentarily for breath, I could see that he had a hard erection. She bent forward again, but this time slowed it to a steady rhythm.

Mr. Epstein murmured appreciatively. "Oh boy, Dick was right. You really know how to suck cock, Mrs. Thomas."

I thought that his crudity might make mom stop but, if anything, it seemed to encourage her. With each bob, her head started taking his cock deeper down her throat. I could see her hands were busy scratching and squeezing his balls.

Mr. Epstein was groaning loudly now. "Oh Mrs. Thomas, you love my big cock don't you, you dirty mommy slut!"

It seemed to me that Mr. Epstein's description of the size of his cock was somewhat exaggerated. Mine was a good deal bigger.

As mom continued her deepthroating, his cries became louder and louder. And when mom, keeping one hand tickling his balls, pushed her other hand underneath him, he was shrieking in pleasure. I knew he was climaxing when he grasped her head and screwed his face up in ecstasy.

Seeing that a conclusion had been reached, I pushed the security button next to the door and let myself back into the reception area. The receptionist was at the street door talking to a cop as they both looked at smoke which was coming out of a building up the street.

On the spur of the moment, I walked up to the receptionist's desk and grabbed an electronic pass from out of his drawer, then sat back in my chair until mom came out of the studio looking pleased with herself. She was carrying a bag with the dress she'd been modelling. She also seemed to have a bag with the shoes and another with some make-up.

She sat down next to me while the receptionist called a taxi, not saying anything but continuing to look smug.

As we left, the receptionist said, "See you again on Friday, Mrs. Thomas."

He was referring to the lingerie modelling session which was mom's next booking.

In the taxi on the way home she was in a world of her own and didn't seem to notice that I was quiet.

Eventually she said, "You will be pleased to know that your mom was just paid four thousand dollars and I will be appearing in the Ladies Catalog. We can now get you some more clothes for college."

I would need some more clothes for college, which I would be attending at the end of the summer, but I suspected we were talking about only a few hundred dollars.

"What did you have to do for the money, mom?" I asked innocently.

"Oh, just a bit of modelling honey," she laughed.

"What about the blowjob?" I inquired quietly.

There was utter silence for about ten seconds. Then mom said quietly, "I don't know what you mean."

"I saw you," I said bitterly.

Then repeated his words, "You really know how to suck cock, Mrs. Thomas."

Mom had gone pale.

"Dad will be disgusted when I tell him. Mr. Epstein was right. You really are a dirty mommy slut."

Although I knew that I wouldn't tell dad, I was angry and I wanted to hurt her. Mom said nothing and when we arrived at the house, I left her in the taxi and went straight up to my room.

I had lain on my bed thinking very depressing thoughts when there was a knock on my door.

"Go away!" I shouted.

My instruction was ignored as mom pushed open my door and walked in. She was wearing the same body-hugging dress she had been wearing at the studio, complete with high heels and the dark red lipstick. She walked straight up to the bed and looked down on me.

"I think the reason you are so angry is because you are jealous. You would love to be in Mr. Epstein's place, sitting on his couch, having young models give you a blowjob. Well why don't we give you a treat?"

I lay there dumbfounded as mom calmly leaned forward and undid my belt and then unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down my legs. My cock sprang upright.

She was wrong. It was not the young models that were making me jealous but that my mom was sucking Epstein's cock. I'd jacked off fantasizing about mom sucking my cock virtually every day since puberty.

My pants were now on the floor as mom gripped my ankles and pulled me down the bed towards her.

I was incapable of saying or doing anything as she grasped my cock, leant forward, and sucked my helmet between her dark red lips.

I gasped again. The feeling of having my cock sucked was everything I had dreamt it would be. Mom pursed her lips quite firmly as she slid them back and forth.

She paused her sucking for a moment, lightly licking the underside of my helmet, as she smiled and whispered; "Now this is what I call a big cock."

Resuming her strong sucking I began groaning, "Oh you dirty fucking slutty mommy."

My words seemed to encourage her as she started taking me deeper down her throat. I felt her left hand grasping my balls, squeezing and scratching them as her mouth worked on my cock.

I was on the verge of my orgasm, which mom seemed to know, as she eased up on the sucking, keeping me agonizingly on the brink. I was groaning incoherently as mom kept me on the edge for at least a minute. But then, gripping my balls with her left hand, she pushed a finger from her right hand deep into my asshole. At the same time, she sucked my helmet harder than ever.

I screamed in agonizing ecstasy, as my cum shot into her mouth; mom prolonging my climax by squeezing my balls and working her finger in my asshole.

I lay back exhausted as mom smiled at me and said calmly, "I don't think we're going to be telling your father now, are we?"

"No mom," I gasped, as she walked out of the room.

Thursday, the next day, was strange as neither of us mentioned what had happened the day before. I was quite quiet, but mom chattered on as she always did.

It was the Friday morning that the subject arose again. The taxi would be arriving for mom mid-morning. There was no need for any dress adjustments as she would just be wearing the lingerie provided, however, hair and make-up would still be taking up quite a bit of time.

The lingerie session was going to be even better financially than the evening wear session. Mom was to be paid two thousand dollars for the photo session itself, with the possibility of a further five thousand dollars if her photos were used in the Vanity Magazine catalog supplement.

Mom was putting some items in her handbag while she waited for the taxi.

I took a deep breath. "Mom," I said sternly, "you must promise me that, whatever you're offered, you will not give that man another blowjob. The two thousand dollars for the session is plenty of money. We do not need any extra."

Mom looked at me solemnly. "Darling, you're absolutely right. I'd decided the same thing myself. I promise you that I will not give that man any fellatio."

"Great mom," I said. "By the way, I'll be in town later so I can come to the studio and travel home with you again."

"No darling," she apologized, "I don't know when I'll be finishing, so you'll have to get the bus home."

She waved to me as she went off in the taxi and I mused over what she'd said. I was suspicious, feeling she could be very tempted by the extra money and decided to go to the studios anyway.

As I got to the door for the second time in three days, I could see the receptionist again twenty yards inside. I pressed the button of the intercom next to the door. As before, I could see the receptionist inside talking towards a piece of equipment.

"Good afternoon sir, may I ask your name?"

"Philip Thomas,"

"I'm sorry Mr. Thomas. I have a note that says you are not to be admitted. The note also says that, if you called, I was to remind you that your mother will see you at home."

He turned back to the papers on his desk, signaling that our conversation was at an end.

I only waited for a half second, before I began walking down the small street that ran down the side of the building. As I suspected, there was a door providing a side entrance. As I approached it I could see that there was no security button. I opened it tentatively and walked inside.

There was no one around. Some stairs went up to the right, but I ignored those and walked across to, what was clearly, a security door. Using my electronic pass that I had stolen on the Wednesday, I was able to open the door and step inside, what I recognized as, the same studio as on the Wednesday.

I could hear Mr. Epstein's voice and it sounded as if they were coming to the end. I crept to my previous hiding place, where I would have a good view, and took my phone from my pocket, preparing to take some pictures if necessary.

The crew had all gone. Mr. Epstein was back on his couch and mom was walking towards him as she'd done before. However, this time she was dressed in the lingerie. I caught my breath. Her large breasts were spilling out of a half-cup brassiere. She had matching panties, with sheer black stockings attached to a garter belt. Standing slightly sideways on, her round ass looked like it was demanding to be pinched. Black high heels completed the ensemble.

"How did I do Mr. Epstein?" Mom's voice seemed to have taken on a husky quavering quality.

Mr. Epstein smiled, "Honey, you were again very good. Yet again your photos stand a great chance of me putting them in the catalog."

Mom smiled, but she seemed to be expecting his next statement.

Then Mr. Epstein continued, "Of course I could decide now that they would definitely be in the catalog. In which case, I would be paying you seven thousand dollars now, instead of two thousand."

As before, his hands undid his trouser belt and he pushed his pants right off. He reached out for a bottle of oil and poured it over his now very erect cock.

"Now Mrs. Thomas, if you would take off your bra and panties and sit on my salami, I can guarantee the seven thousand dollars."

I wondered what mom was going to do, until she put her hands behind her and undid her bra. I gasped as her luscious large breasts were fully exposed, the darker areolae surrounded her big pink nipples She slowly stepped out of her panties, then walked steadily towards him. As she reached him, she smiled and grasped his cock. With a leg either side of him she gently lowered herself. He groaned as he entered her and, as she settled into her position of straddling him, I got out my phone and started filming.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and began steadily pumping her hips. He was groaning immediately, his hands grasping her breasts.

Mom was smiling, "This is what you want, isn't it? All those skinny young models with flat tits and no ass are not the same as a real woman with big tits and a big ass."

He was whimpering as mom added, "Go on, suck mommy's tits you naughty boy."

Epstein gave a loud groan and mashed his face into her breasts. His hands went to mom's ass, grasping a big buttock in each hand, pulling mom onto him so that his boner penetrated her as much as possible. His hands weren't still. He clearly loved playing with mom's ass. He dug his nails in, then slid his hands around to the side of her thighs, playing with her garter straps and feeling the top of her nylon stockings.

Mom grasped the back of the couch and started fucking him hard, pumping her hips backwards and forwards. He was breathing hard through his nose as he gobbled mom's teats and I could tell by the way he was tensing up that he was about to cum. Mom clearly realized the same when, grasping the back of the couch firmly, she sped up her pelvic thrusts so that she was fucking him ferociously.