“Please, I’m practically begging you. I promise that if you do this for me, I’ll owe you big time. My promises are always good.”
She looked at me with a sense of desperation, yet playfulness. I knew how much she needed me to do it. There wasn’t any choice for her. She also knew that I couldn’t refuse, or else she would keep on asking me. It was inevitable. With the look in her eyes, how could I say no?
“Fine,” I replied. “Just this once. Don’t forget that you owe me for this.”
A broad smile appeared on her face and she reached over to wrap her arms around me, delivering a suffocating hug. Her lips were pressed all over my face as she kissed me everywhere.
“I knew you would eventually see things my way,” she replied happily. “We’ll start in half an hour. Everything is already set up.”
***
Usually when I walk inside my mother’s painting room, I would always feel relaxed because I never had anything important to do. My mother had all of the big responsibilities. I just carried stuff.
This time, I walked into her painting room feeling like I was going to take a major exam, which I barely studied for. I felt like a fish out of water. There was a sense of nervousness and awkwardness which came over me. The feelings grew worse when I saw my mother smiling at me, while putting the paint on her pallet.
“Right on time,” she said, as if she were an evil doctor.
“This is kind of scary to be honest. I feel like I have butterflies in my stomach.”
“I know the feeling. Believe me. If you want my advice, just imagine that your body is the beautiful thing on the planet, which it is. I firmly believe that each human body is a beautiful form of art. So think of this as sharing your beauty with the world.”
“Women are a lot more beautiful than men,” I joked.
She smiled, “I think you’re very handsome as a matter-of-fact. That’s part of the reason why I wanted you to do this.”
“Thanks mom. I think you can be pretty hot sometimes as well, in a non-inappropriate way.”
“The word ‘hot’ isn’t proper terminology,” she replied in her art professor voice.
“You know what I’m trying to say.”
“I know. I’m only teasing, Shall we get started now?”
“Now?” I asked in a state of semi-shock. “That soon?”
“This painting isn’t going to make itself. I’ll need you to remove your clothes and sit on that sofa by the window.”
“Okay. If you insist.”
My heart started beating faster. Even though I agreed to pose nude for my mother, the full reality of it didn’t hit me until that very moment. I became nervous, and I almost started to sweat.
She gave me an amused look. “I completely understand how terrified you must feel. Your whole life, you were taught by society that nudity is bad, and something to be ashamed of. But in the world of art, nudity is something to be admired. I was so scared my first time posing nude, but then I got used to it, and it became a wonderful feeling.”
“I guess you’re right. Here it goes.”
With slightly shaky hands, I pulled my tshirt overhead and placed them onto a nearby table. My mother just stood there and watched me, as if she were curious what I looked like nude. Or maybe it was her normal process. Next came my shorts, which I also placed on the table. My mother continued staring at me. I was only wearing underwear.