These shimmering lines on the taut stockings emphasized the erotic curves of her shapely legs, so fascinating to stocking fetishists like me.
I was surprised when she agreed to one pose that definitely pushed the boundaries of any normal mother son relationship. But she didn’t hesitate for a heartbeat when I described what I wanted.
She stood with her back to me, skirt hitched up to her hips, legs spread in a wide ‘A’.
The seams of her stockings formed two sides of an equilateral triangle. Her ankles turned sharply inwards, further drawing the eye to the height and slenderness of her seductive stiletto heels.
Her ass and stockings were a joy of erotic curves, lines and symmetry. The black suspender straps drew the dark stocking tops into perfect geometric curves, tracing the bewitching globes of her sexy booty.
I positioned her to catch the streaming sun light, creating contrasting highlights that traced her curves and cast deep shadows under her butt cheeks and the sensuous ‘V’ between her thighs.
But there was still something not quite right in the composition. It was those lacy nickers. She had put them on correctly over her suspenders and normally they would have looked sensational.
I must have been totally absorbed in my photography otherwise I would never have dared ask.
“Can you, er… just take those nickers off for this shot Mum? I want to capture the beautiful curves of your butt and they spoil the effect I want?”
This time there was a slight hesitation, then, while keeping her back to me, she slid down her silk nickers, slowly and deliberately like a stripper, one long leg at a time. Unknown to her I kept taking burst shots, trying to catch a magic moment. But try as I did, I couldn’t get a look at her mysterious pussy. As I couldn’t see any velvet from a bush I concluded she must shave herself there.
I can still remember thinking this was what I wanted to do after college, spend the rest of my life creating mind-blowing images of the female body.
For a few minutes I was lost in a fascinating whirl of camera flashes and deeply meaningful eye contact.
Then it was over. She had put her nickers back on, smoothed down her skirt and we were standing close together, reviewing the shots with her on the camera LCD display.
“I don’t want you to keep any photos that could identify me Jack,” she said seriously. “I’ve seen the consequences when intimate photos get in circulation. They wreck lives. Promise me you will delete them love?”
I promised.
I thought carefully about what she had said and later deleted several good shots that showed her face and could easily identify the interior of our house. It made sense.
“I hadn’t realised what a flair you have for glamour photography,” she said studying one particularly striking photo of her legs and ass.
“You even managed to make my tired old legs look good!” she added.
I didn’t think she was fishing for compliments, just telling me how she felt about herself.
“Honestly Mum,” I said, “Your legs look so cool, I’m sure you could get some modelling work for your own catalogues if you only pushed yourself a bit more?”