21 comments/ 78799 views/ 89 favorites All in the Name of Art By: ChrisGeyser I guess it all began when Mom found out about my tumblr. Or more precisely, when she found out that I had a tumblr. I was on the sofa, vaguely following a basketball game on the TV with my computer in my lap, checking the new updates on my tumblr dashboard, when Mom surprised me when she asked: "Do you think I should get a tumblr account too?" I didn't know she was even in the room, and her unexpected presence and question freaked me out almost as much as the fact that I was basically looking at naked girls and that is never the best thing to be doing when your mother walks in on you unannounced, even when you're 22 and supposedly allowed (if not entitled) to do so. So I blushed, I hurriedly changed the window to something more respectable, and I probably stuttered before I was able to reply, in a rabbit-in-the-headlights kind of way: "Erm, Mom, I don't know, maybe." "Mike keeps telling me I should, but I just don't see the point. I mean, what's the difference with having a website?" I managed to gather myself a little. Mike is a friend of Mom's who's in love with technology, and it figured he'd have talked to Mom about it. "Well, it's different. I mean, a website is to put up your stuff - you can do that with tumblr too, but I suppose the interesting thing is getting exposed to so many different things too." "That's the part that I don't really get. How is it different from browsing?" "See, you subscribe to certain people, who share some of your interests, and... well, it's like a river that flows, and you can just pick and choose the things that you like to put on your tumblr." "So it's not just your own stuff?" I shook my head. "No - I mean, you can put up your own stuff too, there's no set rule about how you use it. But the way I see it, it's like building a bulletin board of the things you like or that you want to keep, and finding more things to put there." "Hm. Not sure I completely understand what you mean, but... do you think I should have one?" "I don't know. Are you looking for inspiration?" "You know I always am." I shrugged. "Then maybe you should try it - I mean, it's free, and if you don't like it, you can just delete it easily." Mom pouted, visibly pondering what I had just said. I felt secretly relieved that the technical aspects had somewhat steered the conversation away from the actual content of my tumblr account. I had opened it a few months before, and I had soon been somewhat hooked on the system, gathering an interesting collection of pictures (and the odd video) relating to my personal "interests" - summed up in the short sentence I had put under the title: "Things that get my imagination (and my pulse) racing - heavy breasts and cummy smiles." I know, I am something of a poet, at times. To be honest, I thought that Mom should have one too. Not for the same purpose, of course - but Mom was a photographer, and while her daily job involved portraits, baby pictures, and corporate shots, she also pursued some artistic projects on the side, even leading to exhibitions a few times in the past. She had set up a small studio in the basement for that, where she also had a rather extensive collection of art books and magazines. So yes, tumblr made complete sense for her. Which I told her, and she pouted again. "Maybe you're right. I might give it a try..." I smiled, encouragingly, and she continued. "While we're talking about it, I didn't see well what your tumblr was about, but that title sure sounds interesting..." I blanched, and she must have noticed because she quickly said. "Thanks for the advice, sweety. You rock." She gave me a hurried hug, a peck on the cheek, and left softly humming to herself. I watched her walk out of the room, then, cautiously, I opened back the tumblr window. In the top-right of the screen, next to the picture of a busty blonde literally bursting out of her pink bikini, was the title I had chosen, a few months before, after long minutes of hesitation: "Forbidden Fantasies." I sighed, and closed the computer. * * * * * Of course, over the next few weeks, I became a little apprehensive every time I thought of updating my tumblr. I certainly would check that Mom wasn't around when I did, but I never envisioned that our chat about tumblr would lead to anything else than one little awkward moment. Which means Mom surprised me again when one evening, she explained that she had started a new personal project. "Bear with me, Chris, okay? Because at this stage, it's just a bundle of ideas, intentions, and intuitions, and it will certainly evolve as I progress." "Sure, Mom." I smiled. I thought it was funny to see her both very enthusiastic and a little insecure at the same time - it was always the same whenever she started something new. And every time, she had come up with something impressive. She's talented, she's my Mom, and she's a truly beautiful woman, but when she is pursuing her art she becomes positively radiant. I love her for that, and of course so many other things, and I was always glad that she chose to share those moments with me and only me. I felt that I was participating, even if only very marginally, in what she would be creating, and it was nice, this bond we shared as far back as I can remember. "I've been thinking of doing something on the representation of women, especially in the male perception, and how it can be re-appropriated as a means to empowerment." "O-kay... I'm not sure I follow you completely there." "Here's what I intend to do: I'm going to recreate all the pictures on a tumblr replacing all the women with myself. And this way, making a statement by showing how a single woman can represent all aspects of the male's fantasies - instead of having to conform to a single, restricted one." "I see. But Mom, wouldn't that be more appropriate to try and do with a women's magazine? Considering they are at least as much directive when it comes to what a woman should look like?" "That was one of my first ideas, baby, but it's a bit too twentieth century, especially when you see all those articles explaining how online porn redefines a lot of body expectations for today's teens." "So you want to get 2.0?" "Something like that. What do you think?" "Hm, I think it's interesting. I mean, you do have a point..." "Is there a 'but' coming?" I smiled. "No, at least not for the moment." "It's just a first intention, you know, something to get at least some raw material for the finished project. Maybe I'll look into other ways to explore that topic, but I like this idea." "Good. It's nice to see you with a new project. It's been some time since the last." "I know, I know. It feels good, that's for sure. And I have you to thank for the idea." Suddenly, I was confused - as well as chilled with dread, a sense of impending doom. "Really? How so?" "Your tumblr has been a great inspiration for me." I froze. "I don't understand." She smiled. "Well, you told me about tumblr, remember? And I was curious and I checked yours, and there was a nice selection of pictures and I thought that it would be a good basis for my project." I blanched. "Mom! What... do you mean that...?" She nodded, still smiling. "Yes, I mean that... (she giggled) Oh come on, I've seen far worse. And I was lazy, I didn't want to spend hours trying to find another tumblr that would be so suitable for me. I took it as a sign, you know?" I shook my head in disbelief. Thoughts were colliding in my brain, I felt that the whole thing was wrong in so many ways. "But Mom, you can't..." "Why? Baby, I won't judge you for what you have on this page. And again, I've seen far worse than yours, to be honest I think there's a lot of great pictures up there." "But - but there's porn. I mean, if you recreated the pictures, that means that..." "Oh come on, baby... what's with a little nudity? I'm an artist, remember? A photographer, we shoot nudes", she chuckled. "Besides, yours is more erotic than porn, it has beauty and taste. Some of it is quite artistic already in the lighting and angles used, giving me a lot to work with." I was at a loss, and I couldn't get myself to actually voice what was my last argument - that the idea of my tumblr recreated with my mother in each and every naughty picture was both disturbing and strangely arousing at the same time. I couldn't find the words, so I ended up standing and pacing and waving my arms around, looking like some poor stranded bird. Mom shook her head and laughed softly. "Oh baby, you're taking this way too seriously. It's just a project, remember? I don't know how many of those pictures I'll keep in the end, or in what direction I might move from that. It always works like that with photography: take a ton of shots, and only keep the perfect ones." I shrugged, still not convinced, still confused. "Oh, baby, don't be so stuck up. I would have never thought you'd have a problem about that. It's not like I have never posed nude - I did a series of self-portraits in one of my shows, remember?" I hm-hmed diplomatically, as I realized Mom was mistakenly assuming I had a problem with her taking nude photos, while the issue was something else entirely. She carried on: "Come here, I'm going to show you the first pictures I took. It's just a start, and rest assured, so far I've mostly focused on clothed shots, but I think it's promising." She opened her laptop and motioned me to come and sit next to her on the sofa. I reluctantly obeyed, and she nudged me playfully. On the screen were a couple of pictures, all of my mother. She was clothed in all of them, even if some outfits were a little revealing and showed a little cleavage - and in another window behind those, were the original pictures I had reposted on my tumblr. Mom's weren't exact copies - the clothes, the background, the props were different but similar enough so that there was no possible doubt about the inspiration. And of course, it was Mom instead of the models - and while she was not as endowed as some of the more generous ones, she was definitely curvier than others. Which, thinking about it, might have explained why she had chosen my tumblr over others, as my... fascination with heavy breasts did turn her ample bosom (somewhere between DD and DDD, as she had explained to me during an excruciating shopping spree) into some kind of advantage. "What do you think?" "Well, I guess it's interesting, in a way." I opted for the diplomatic approach. "It's just a start. I've been trying to find the best way to do this, and there are a few tricks that are going to help me. And once I get that working, I'm going to expand the selection." "That's good, I suppose." My tone wasn't exactly enthusiastic. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, buster," she frowned. "Sorry, Mom - I'm sure it's going to be great. I'm curious as to how it's going to turn out in the end." "So am I, baby, so am I." She smiled innocently, and I was left with the impression that maybe, I had overreacted. Sometimes, it happens. * * * * * I didn't think much about it during the following week. Sure, Mom was in a good mood, as she often was during those early stages of a new project. The frustrations and the doubts usually came later, when decisions had to be made, and when the exploration finally was about to turn into a statement. But in a way, the project was a distant thing, an abstract concept that I could easily put aside in my mind, and go on with my daily life. Things changed on Friday, as I was getting home from the University. When I opened the door, I heard voices coming from the living room. Getting closer, I spotted Mom and Mike chatting, Mike sitting at the desk in front of a computer, and Mom standing next to him. Mike was overweight, with a gray beard and a receding hairline, and sported thick glasses like the ones that usually scream "nerd" in a movie. Mike was smart, but the stereotype stopped there, as he also was very funny and likable, and despite his looks, quite popular with women from what Mom had told me (not that anything had happened between them, she had also assured me). I grabbed a Coke from the fridge, and came to the door of the living room. "Hey Mike." "Hey Chris," Mike said with a little wave of his hand. "Hey Baby." They were obviously in the middle of something, as Mike carried on, talking to my mother. "So the solution is not super elegant, but it works. And the way those sites keep changing their APIs, the brute force approach ends up being more resilient in the long term." "How does it work?" "Well, you have to launch the script, and what it does is it's going to load the entire page in this frame. And then it reproduces the layout in this other frame, replacing the pictures with placeholders, and including those for which you've created a substitute." "Okay, looks good. And how do I add a new picture?" "You just click on the placeholder, and choose the replacement from your folder, there." "And what if I want to change the replacement?" "Works exactly the same. Click, choose, and you're done." "Mike, you're incredible. That's perfect." "Hey, what can I say? Pure talent, you can't fake it." "Thanks a lot, you can't imagine how excited I am to begin working with that." "Good. Any hint on what that new project will be about?" "Mike, you know me, I wouldn't want to jinx it." Mom smiled, and if I didn't know better, I would have believed her. Mike stood up, accepted the hug Mom gave him, then picked up his things and winked at me as Mom walked him to the door. I heard them say goodbye, and Mike left. Mom nearly sprinted back to the computer, and started busying herself on the keyboard. Slightly worried, I came closer to inquire. "What are you doing, Mom?" She held up her index finger. "Just a minute - give me a minute, and I'll show you." It took her a little more than five minutes to actually finish what she was doing, and then she beckoned me. I came to stand by her shoulder, an ominous feeling suddenly clutching my stomach. On the computer screen, there was a browser window opened, divided vertically in two halves. On the left side was my tumblr, complete with naughty pictures, title and tag line; on the right side was a page with exactly the same layout (including title and tag line), only most of the pictures were replaced by light gray rectangles. Mom scrolled down, and proudly showed me how some of the gray areas were replaced by pictures featuring herself, creating that strange doppelganger of my tumblr that she had set out to do. There were maybe a dozen shots, some of which I had seen the previous week, and some newer. The more recent ones a little more revealing than the earlier ones, including a bare nipple in one case. The whole thing was strangely fascinating - and to be honest, I could definitely see the artistic value in Mom's project. If only it wasn't so unsettling to me, that is. "So, baby, what do you think?" "Well... I don't know. I see what you want to get at, and I think the setup is rather effective..." "Mike did really deliver on that one. I told him what I had in mind, and this is what he came up with in two days. And that means I'm going to be able to get seriously working on this now. There's quite a lot of pictures to take there." I blinked. "You- you intend to redo all the pics in there?" She smiled. "That's the idea, yeah. I started with a few dressed ones, because I wanted to get a feel for it. But now that I have all the tools I need figured out, I'm going to move to the next stage." She looked at me and winked. Between Mike and her, I suddenly had the impression everyone was in on the joke - except me. * * * * * Without a doubt, Mom did take it to the next stage - not that she was sharing anything with me. She was obviously busy and enjoying it during the following week. Most of her evenings were spent in the basement studio, but on a few occasions I bumped into her "above ground", taking her tripod, camera and computer to her room, at one point commandeering the bathroom for the better part of two hours, and even a session down in the kitchen. So yes, things were definitely happening. As for myself, I didn't really know what to make of it. On a purely intellectual level, I thought her approach was interesting, and I was curious to see the result - or at least, the work-in-progress. But at the same time, I still found the whole thing unsettling in many ways. On Friday evening, as we were finishing a pizza, I tried to bring up the subject. "Erm, Mom, by the way, I wanted to talk to you about that project of yours..." She giggled. "Oh you're right, I'm sorry, I've been so obsessed with it this week that... (she shook her head) Give me a minute, I'm going to go and grab my computer, and I'll show you how it's shaping up. I'd really love to have your input on it, baby." Before I could even reply, she was gone, and came back a minute or two later with her laptop under her arm. She pushed the pizza box and the plates off the table, and set up the computer. We waited while it booted up, and all of sudden my throat felt very dry. The Windows desktop finally appeared on the screen, and Mom launched the App that Mike had designed for her. Ironically, the icon Mike had chosen was a demonic smiley face, complete with the little purple horns. The loading icon also included the same demonic smiley face, and I frowned. "Why the little demon? Does Mike think you're going to Hell for doing this?" Mom chuckled. "No, silly, that's his signature. He puts it in all the apps he does, you're reading way too much into this. And what are you, the moral police?" I was about to reply when the script finished running and the page appeared on the screen. I nearly gasped. On the left was the familiar array of pictures that made up my tumblr (which I hadn't updated in a week, partly out of being too busy, partly out of feeling somehow observed by my mother). But it was the right part of the screen that (of course) was catching my attention. Mom scrolled down - once, twice, three, four times. There were still a few gray areas, corresponding to animated gifs and a series of pics detailing a cumshot (which were, thankfully, the only openly pornographic pictures of that selection - though I knew there were sections of my tumblr which were way racier than that one). But apart from those understandable omissions, Mom had reenacted all the pictures on the page, with various degrees of faithfulness - ranging from approximate to uncannily similar. There was Mom wearing a black bra and a white shirt and showing deep cleavage, there was Mom's chest in a simple black tank top, there was Mom topless taking off a vintage dress, there was Mom looking sultry in a black bra-and-panties with a single breast hanging out, there was Mom pensive in a large, sheer white t-shirt that revealed the generous curve of her chest, there was Mom wearing glasses with a purple top, her breasts hanging out and her tongue at the corner of her mouth... Mom interrupted my reverie. "It's still a rough approach - there are some pictures I'll have to reshoot so that they are more faithful to the original. But it's coming along fine, don't you think?" I swallowed. "Well, Mom, it's impressive, yeah..." I shifted in my chair, suddenly very much aware of the tension in my trunks. It was rather overwhelming to discover this - this 'abundance of Mom', in so many ways. She tensed: "You don't think it's interesting, is that it?" I shook my head, trying to reassure her. "No, it is interesting - I certainly didn't expect you to have taken so many pictures already. And... and it works, it really works. It's just a bit unsettling for me, you know..." "The nudity, you mean?", she smiled. All in the Name of Art "There's that. But it's not only that. I mean, these are glamour shots, and it's kinda weird to see you in those, you know what I mean?" She chuckled. "Hm-hm. To be honest, it's the same for me - I see myself, but it's not me, you know? But it's really fun to take these shots, makes me feel sexy. (she giggled) And so, besides the nudity, do you think it works?" "Yeah, it does. I mean, it's really impressive, the way it works. It's nearly scary, the way you're kind of... invading my tumblr, you know?" "Well, it was kind of what I was aiming at. And I think I'm getting better at it, I am now able to get very close to the original. There's still the issue of the animated gifs that I have to look into, but I talked to Mike about it, and he said he had something that converted short videos to gifs. So I should be okay on that front too." "Does Mike know about the project?" "I gave him a very general pitch. how I wanted to reproduce the layout of a tumblr, replacing the pictures with mine, something like that. You know, I usually don't like to talk about my projects before they are fully formed..." I frowned. "But you've told me all about it, right?" "Well, it seemed only fair, considering I was going to... use you, as part of the project." She smiled, somewhat sheepishly. "And by the way, I'd like to use you a little more. It would mean a lot to me." I hesitated. "What do you mean?" "Well, for most of the pictures, I have all the props I need, so it's not a problem. But there's this one, for instance, where I could really use your help." I looked at the picture she was pointing at on the screen. It was an artistic shot, in black and white. A man in a suit was sitting in a leather armchair, and had his right hand on the head of a very naked woman, who was on her knees next to him. They were looking at each other, and the picture radiated sexual tension. I swallowed. "It's a very nice picture, but... Mom, don't you think it'd be weird for us to...?" She smiled. "Baby, it's just a picture. It's like play-acting, but for a single pose. The picture tells a story, or at least alludes at one, but it doesn't mean the models have to be part of that story, you see? Sure, it sometimes helps if they do, but that's not what I'm pursuing there." "Hm, okay. But are you sure you want me for that shot? I certainly look nothing like this guy..." Considering what my mother was doing with this project, I knew it was a very weak argument, but I had to give it a try. Mom shook her head. "Chris, you're mistaking the objective of this project. It's not about resemblance, it's about similarity. Which is very different. But I can understand that you'd feel a little apprehension helping me with that kind of shot. But think about it, please? I'd really appreciate you giving me a hand, and I also think it'd bring yet another dimension to the project." I was a bit puzzled. "What do you mean?" She pouted. "Hm, I don't have a clear explanation yet, but it feels right to me, to try and involve you in another way in this, besides your providing the original material. It just seems like a collaboration of sorts is better with this project, maybe. Anyway, I'd really like to try and shoot that picture tomorrow, if you decide you can, but I don't want to push you. So baby, think it over, sleep on it and tell me your decision in the morning, okay?" I promised her I would, and our discussion turned to more mundane topics. But the idea of that picture stuck in my mind - only with me in the armchair, and Mom naked on her knees. And I knew I'd eventually agree to help. * * * * * When I woke up the next morning, Mom had already gone out for the weekly shopping. I often tagged along to help her carry all the bags, and I rather liked those shared moments - and I'm sure Mom did too. She called me 'the man of the house' and praised me for bringing some brawn to go with her brains, and I could tell she enjoyed finding some kind of order and normality in a life that had been seriously shaken by the divorce and the bad blood that still remained. I only saw Dad once or twice a year, and I'd describe our relationship as strained at best - every time I had stayed more than a couple of days, things had turned sour and harsh words had been exchanged. Mom and I had rebuilt something of our life together, like a little bubble, and we did our best to stay in it. Which meant that even if I felt very ambiguous about her project (and not the least because I definitely was turned on by it), I wanted to help and support her in this endeavor. Her previous exhibitions had been interesting, but sometimes lacked a little focus to really make them impactful, and I had the impression that there was something much more potent this time. Even the nudity was different from the revealing self-portraits she had done in the past. There was this raw energy here, something that claimed self-confidence and an undeniable presence - she definitely owned these shots, in a way she had rarely owned her work before. So when she came back from her shopping trip, I was waiting for her and I helped her unloading the groceries from the car. "You should have woken me this morning, I'd have come and helped you." She smiled. "You're helping me now, baby." "Yeah, but still..." "Well, you were sleeping late, and I know how rare that is, so you certainly needed the extra hours." She was right, as I was usually an early bird, so I left the conversation at that. As we were putting everything in the kitchen, Mom surprised me. "So, have you made up your mind?" "Erm, about what, Mom?" "The project, silly. How can you ask that question, don't you know your old mother?" she chuckled. I shook my head. "I do know you, Mom. But for once, maybe, I was hoping you didn't have such a one-track mind..." She smiled. "Yadda yadda yadda. Quit stalling, young man. I asked you a question..." "Yes." "So?" "That's my answer, Mom. Yes, I'm going to help you. I..." I couldn't finish my sentence, as Mom had suddenly jumped and caught me in a breath-depriving hug. Luckily, she let go of me before I started turning purple as she started babbling: "Oh baby, you don't know how happy I am that you agreed, it's so great, I was really hoping you'd say yes, you know I'm really excited about this project and I want to go 100% at it, and I was worried at the beginning, especially when you said you weren't comfortable about it, and that you would decide to help me, that means so much to me, and..." I smiled, and eventually managed to break what was seriously threatening to become some sort of incoherent ramble: "Mom, it's okay. I know how important this project is to you, and I think you really have something with this one, and even if I am not entirely comfortable with it, I want to help you as much as I can. Though I don't think there's much I can bring to the table, you know?" It was her turn to smile: "Oh, don't underestimate yourself, baby. I'm sure you're going to help me plenty." I shrugged. "I hope so." "Well, I was thinking I'd try and get a few pictures done after lunch. Care to join me then? I'll need you in a suit, remember?" I nodded, and we started putting together something to eat. * * * * * After cleaning off the table and putting the dishes to soak in the sink, I went upstairs to take a shower and put on my suit. I owned only one, and wasn't much for wearing it. There was the excessive formality of it, but also the distinct impression that it made my ass look big - we all have our little insecurities. At least, it wouldn't show in the picture. I checked myself in the mirror one last time, and I went downstairs to the basement. I was familiar with the place - Mom had it transformed into a small studio a while ago, complete with the white walls and a set of curtains that could be pulled to instantly change the mood of the small set. There was a big chest in a corner, full of various props (including numerous pairs of glasses, outlandish clothes, toy guns, silk flowers and more). Yet, it was still Mom's space in the house, and it had been quite some time since I had visited there. She was busy on her laptop, which was propped on a stool by the camera tripod. When I came closer the reason for this arrangement became clear: the laptop's screen was split in two, with the reference picture on the left, and the camera's output on the right, thus allowing Mom to make sure she was reproducing the pose accurately enough. That certainly explained why the latter pictures she had taken were so close to the original. Mom seemed satisfied with the camera angle, and smiled at me. "Hey baby." "Hey Mom. So, are we set up?" "Not right away. There are a couple of pictures I wanted to take before we get to the one I was thinking of." "Do you want me to come back a little later then?" "No, the point of those shots is to give you the opportunity to relax a little. I know how people can get tense, and that always shows in the picture, you know? So take a seat (indicating the armchair in the corner) and feel free to ask me whatever you want to." I sat down, a little apprehensive, while Mom went on to explain her set-up (confirming what I had already figured out) and detailing the little adjustments she was making, moving back and forth from the computer to the mark on the floor that indicated the center of the small set. She was wearing a light robe, her long hair held in place by a slender chopstick, and she had a very focused look on her face. Mom was certainly not kidding around with this project. Eventually, she seemed satisfied and she flashed me a smile: "Shall we?" I shrugged back, not really knowing what to say - and barely managed to refrain from gasping as she dropped the light robe in one swift movement, standing before me naked except for a pair of black tights, that went up to her waist. She winked at me, then went to stand on the spot. Checking the display on the laptop's screen, she practiced the pose she wanted (standing, her back slightly towards the camera, holding a white towel to her chest), took a breath, smiled again in my direction, then looked back at the objective and tensed a little. There were three long seconds, and I heard the shutter close numerous times in close succession. Mom let the towel drop and moved towards the computer, squatting in front of it, checking the pictures she had just taken. I heard her mutter: "Okay, that one is good," and she selected another picture to begin her little routine again. That picture used also the same tights, but with the girl sitting at the edge of some kind of a leather seat, legs crossed, one hand on her knee and a finger of the other against her lips, looking to the left of the picture. The pose seemed to be somewhat problematic for Mom, as she didn't seem to get it exactly right. "What is the matter, Mom?" I asked, my mouth a little dry - she was quite a sight, and seeing her this way was much more troubling than I had thought, even more so than just looking at her pictures. She nearly grunted back, then chuckled. "I have something of a problem with this one. She's not as... endowed as I am, which means that if I take exactly the same pose, I'm going to be spilling tits all over the place. Which is not the effect I want. So it's a matter of positioning my arms to somewhat reproduce her pose, while keeping 'the girls' in check." She smiled, and continued. "Sorry to get so technical on you, baby." I tried to take it lightly. "No worries, Mom. Wardrobe issues, I get it." She giggled, and adjusting her arm: "Okay, I think I got this one. Give it a look and tell me what you think." I stood and walked behind the camera, and she laughed. "Not like that, silly - on the laptop screen. It's the reference that counts." I slapped my forehead, and stepped around the tripod to look at the display. The pose was not exactly the same (as indeed, Mom had an abundance of goods surpassing that of the girl in the picture), Mom was a brunette while the girl was a bleached blonde, but yes, it worked fine. "Looks good, Mom," I said, turning around - and I heard the rattle of the shutter. Mom stood up, passed me by and squatted again to check the results. "Thanks, baby. Yeah, that's another good one. Okay, last one, and then you're up." She looked up at me and smiled. Suddenly, I wasn't as relaxed anymore. Some sort of stage fright, or maybe it was just my discomfort about the project that came back nagging me. The next pose was a standing nude - so Mom took off her tights, and pushed the leather seat away. The girl in the picture was standing facing the right of the camera, with her arms around her back and looking straight at the objective. Again, Mom was definitely more voluptuous than the girl, but this time it wasn't an issue, as the pose was fairly straightforward. Which means that it didn't take long for it to be recreated - and that meant my turn was up. * * * * * Let me be clear: I felt incredibly tense. To begin with, the sight of my naked mother taking on sexy poses definitely did not leave me unfazed, and my cock had been rock-hard in my pants as soon as she had gotten out of her light robe for the first shot. Thankfully for my remaining somewhat decent, I had taken the precaution to position my cock vertically, the head held right under the waistband of my boxer shorts. While it was a little uncomfortable considering my current state, there was no visible tent nor excessive bulge visible under the thin fabric of the suit. Furthermore, I generally hated being in front of a camera, something that added to my stress now. Mom asked me to help her move the armchair to the center of the little stage. She was still fully naked, and even if I did my best not to look in her direction, I inevitably caught numerous glimpses of her dangling breasts, which didn't help with my general discomfort. Fortunately, my role in the shot was just to be seated - which I did right away, and waited while Mom busied herself to check the angle of the shot and all sorts of technical details, correcting my pose, adjusting the lighting and testing where she would have to kneel. And of course, all this ballet was done in a flurry of jiggling tits and bouncing ass. Eventually, Mom kneeled next to the armchair, turned towards me, I put my hand on her head, we looked at each other, her eyes in mine, a warm smile on her face, probably something more tense on mine - and the shutter clicked. Mom stood up and went to the computer, then called me to come and look at the result. She had picked up the light robe, but remained naked next to me as I browsed through the five pictures she had taken. They were imperceptibly different, and they were in color where the original shot was in black and white, but again, the resemblance was undeniable. I was struck not only by how luscious Mom appeared in the shot, but also by the sheer sensuality that exuded from it. "So, what do you think?" asked Mom, still holding the robe in her hand. "Wow. I mean, wow. (she smiled) It's nice, really..." "And sexy as hell too. (she gave me a peck on the cheek) Thanks a lot, baby, you were perfect." "I didn't do much, really." "Well, you definitely were in the right mood for this, and you can't imagine how important that is. That's what makes the difference between a good shot, and a great shot. Great shots are inhabited, you know? They live, they tell a story. And this, my dear, is a great shot. So thank you." "Any time, Mom..." I replied, automatically. She smiled. "I might take you up on the offer, you know." She put the robe back on. "I'll do my best, Mom." I helped her push the armchair out of the way again, she then took the laptop and brought it to her desk. When I left, she was busy updating her version of my tumblr with the new pictures, humming to herself. I went upstairs to my room to change. My cock was still hard, the head pointing North of the waistband and literally dripping precum, leaving a wet spot on the shirt. I quickly went to the bathroom, where it took me only a few strokes to bring myself to climax, and splatter the porcelain with long strands of cum. I felt dizzy and exhausted, but I still couldn't push the sight of my naked mother out of my mind. * * * * * That evening, Mom summoned me to the living room. She had set up her laptop on the table, and told me to sit next to her. "I wanted to give you an update on the project. Considering you're an integral part of it, in many ways now (she smiled), it's only fair, right?" "Sure", I said, trying to look cool and detached. She pulled Mike's program, and we browsed through the first few screens of my tumblr and her version side-by-side. I'd say she had recreated about 90% of the pictures, except for the animated gifs and some of the more graphic stuff (including a set of blowjob pics and one animated titfuck). Our picture was there too, in black and white, and I was still amazed by the intensity that radiated from the shot. To be honest, all of the shots had this same intensity, and I really understood what Mom meant when she spoke of "inhabited pictures". My cock stirred again in my pants. "So?" Mom asked, apprehension in her voice. "It's... it's great, Mom. Really. I can't believe you've taken so many already..." "You know how I am, when I start something, I go at it 100%." "So I see." I browsed further down, spotting the other pictures she had taken today, seeing more gray areas, until I got to a point where it was all gray areas. Mom frowned. "Yeah, there's quite a lot of work remaining..." I smiled. "I can imagine. I passed the 1500 mark a while ago." "True. But there are not 1500 pictures on your tumblr. (I raised an eyebrow, she giggled) There are a few which you posted more than once. Interesting too, to see which ones get this special treatment..." I blushed - I had indeed noticed, once or twice, that I reposted a picture that I already had up on my tumblr, and those were usually of the messier kind. "Erm, are there many of those?" "You mean, the reposted pics? Quite a few. There's one that appears five or six times, I think, though you can be excused as there is a color version, a black and white version, and I think one that was reframed. You must have really loved it," she chuckled. I shook my head. "I plead guilty. What was the pic in question?" "Don't look so mortified, baby... (she giggled) Let me see... here, that's the one." The picture was showing the bottom half of a face, mouth open and tongue extended, a long strand of cum hanging from the tip, and below the breasts squeezed together by the arms on each side, also splattered with cum. Mom giggled. "And I guess there's also this one that you particularly like..." This time, it was a bust shot of a blonde, with her red top undone and her breasts exposed, mouth open towards a hard cock pointing from the left, a large dollop of cum hanging from her waiting tongue, with a strand still attached to the cockhead. I blushed bright red. "Something of a recurring theme there," Mom laughed, then gave me a hug. "Oh baby, don't worry, I'm not making fun of you. That would be so unfair on my part, considering I'm the one who insisted on using your tumblr as the basis for my project. I'm just... curious, I guess, at what it lets me learn about my own son, you know?" "Yeah, and think I'm some kind of pervert..." She cut me off. "Absolutely not. Don't even start to think that of yourself. Baby, one, it's normal to have fantasies. You're an adult male, and I would definitely be worried if you didn't. And two, as I've said before, I like your tumblr, it's more erotic than porn, and the porn there is on it doesn't faze me at all. So, I don't want to ever hear you use that word to refer to yourself again, other than that there's nothing to worry about, okay?" All in the Name of Art I mumbled something, but she turned my head and had me look at her. "Okay, Chris?" "Yeah, sure, Mom." "Good. So now that we've agreed on that, there's something that I just can't accept." I tensed. "O-kay...?" She smiled, and carried on: "Why did you stop updating it?" "What?" "It's been nearly a week, and you haven't posted anything new. Why is that?" "I... I don't know, I... I haven't thought about it. Wasn't in the mood, I guess." She looked at me, dubious. "Oh really? Are you sure it's not because of the project?" "Well, maybe a little..." She sighed. "Chris, please... as I said, it's normal for you to have fantasies, so there's no reason for you to stop using your tumblr. (she smiled) Besides, I'd hate to lose such a great source of inspiration - you do select some great shots, you know that?" "Hm, okay, Mom... honestly, I didn't know how to react, when you told me about using it and... and I guess it became difficult for me to update it, considering you'd be... you know?" "I understand, baby. But you shouldn't worry. Promise?" "I'll try." "Good. Oh, and one other thing." "Yes?" She smiled again. "No watering it down." I frowned. "What?" "No watering it down. If you see a picture you like, post it. Don't censor yourself, even if it's in the 'porn' category. I've seen everything that's already on your tumblr, remember? It's not like you're going to shock me because you post another picture of a girl with a mouthful of cum," she chuckled. I blushed, surprised that she would be so blunt. "Erm, okay, Mom, I guess. If it's for the sake of the project..." She laughed. "Exactly. Keep posting porn, for the sake of the project. Deal?" "Deal." Mom looked at the screen again, with the two pages side by side, and for a moment seemed a bit lost in her thoughts. She smiled at me again, and closed the laptop. "Enough for today. I'm starving! What about we order some Chinese?" "Sure." Before going to bed that night, I went up to my room, and turned on my computer. I took a deep breath, and called up the tumblr dashboard. And dutifully, I went through a whole week of backlog to update my page. I only hesitated twice, but decided against including the pics - not because they were graphic (it was a blowjob and a handjob in gif form), but because I didn't find them particularly interesting. Looking at the now updated tumblr page with the new pics added at the top, I wondered how Mom would deal with them. I started imagining her in the place of the models, and for a second, I was even tempted to try and find a picture with a more risqué pose, but eventually I decided against it. Maybe another time... * * * * * The following morning, I was having a late breakfast in the kitchen, when Mom came in to join me. She was humming to herself, and although she was wearing her usual Sunday outfit (sweatpants and a tank top with a large shirt), she looked positively radiant. "Somebody is in a good mood today...", I said. "Hm-hm," she nodded. "Anything you'd like to share?" She giggled. "It's more about what you already shared, baby. (I frowned) Thanks for updating your tumblr - it wasn't that hard, was it?" I blushed a little. "No, Mom, I managed to survive the ordeal... barely." She smiled. "Poor thing. Nice selection, too. I guess there wasn't much of the racier stuff to choose from this time?" "No, not really. Nothing that piqued my interest, at least. I didn't censor myself, Mom." "Good. I saw there was an animated gif, too, I'll have to look into that. Mike told me it wasn't complicated to create them, so I'm not that worried. (she stretched) This is going to be a busy day for me. Do you have anything planned?" "Well, some of the guys were planning to go to the movies this afternoon, and probably grab a pizza afterwards, and I said I'd join them." Mom pouted. "Hm, okay." "What is it?" "Oh, nothing, it's okay. I was thinking of maybe asking you for help again, but that'll wait for another time. I've got enough on my plate already, there's no hurry." "Oh, okay. What do you need me for?" "Just a few shots, a bit like the one we did yesterday, nothing really." "Sorry then, Mom. Rain check for this time?" She flashed me a bright smile. "Sure. Besides, that'll give me the time to see if there are any more shots that I'll need your help with..." I frowned exaggeratedly. "Mom, don't tell me you're considering making me a regular fixture in this project of yours?" She giggled. "Well, you know, I was thinking about how it could also be seen as a commentary on professional versus homemade porn. And you can't get any more homemade than that," she giggled again. She winked at me, and carried on: "So baby, I'm going downstairs to work in the studio, you enjoy the afternoon with your friends. Just let me know when you leave, and when you get back, okay?" "Sure, Mom." "Good. See you later, alligator." "Hm-hm." She grabbed a bottle of milk and left me alone with my thoughts. * * * * * As expected, I ate lunch alone - when she had her "productive days", Mom usually forgot about the time, and ended up eating at weird hours. It wasn't so much eating as refueling, as she never really paid much attention to what was consumed, as long as it gave her enough energy to get back to her work. So when it got close to 3pm and I had to go meet my friends, I went downstairs and opened the door to the studio, calling out "Mom". She barely acknowledged my presence with something of a grunt, very much absorbed by what she was doing. She was wearing black thigh high stockings and a long necklace made of wooden beads, and nothing else. I immediately knew the shot she was trying to recreate - a somewhat vintage picture of a woman with an impressive bush. "Mom", I repeated, "I'm going out, okay? I'll be back in the evening." She looked in my direction, nodded twice, and got back to tinkering with the camera tripod. I waved (without much hope that she would see my gesture), and I closed the door behind me. The afternoon out provided a nice break - the five of us got along really well, and even if the movie turned out to be not as good as advertised (but are they ever?), we had a great time together. Of course, the copious amounts of beer we ingested, along with a few slices of pizza, certainly mellowed the mood. And since I hadn't been the one drawing the short straw of the designated driver, I drank my share. When I got dropped off in front of our house, I was more than tipsy, but still in this place where it's all good buzz and none of the sickly feeling... yet. Deep down somewhere, I knew tomorrow would be another story, but I didn't really care. I got in and dropped my jacket before heading downstairs to tell Mom I was home. I pushed the door and heard the familiar rattle of the shutter. She was on the little stage, wearing just a large blue denim shirt, and she smiled as she looked at me. "Hey baby, have a good day?" "Oh yeah, real nice. What about you?" She grabbed a glass of red wine from the table. "Quite good too. Took a lot of great shots today." She smiled, her eyes were very bright, and part of my brain noticed the nearly empty bottle sitting next to the laptop. "Good", I replied, not really knowing what to say next, but definitely enjoying the sight. I really liked seeing Mom naked. "Good," she repeated, before her face lit up. "You know what, baby? Since you're here, would you mind helping me a little? Just like yesterday? There's one or two shots I'd love to try and take... please please please." "Oh sure, Mom, no problem," I answered, without really thinking it over. "Perfect! Come here, so I can show you the first one I'd like to shoot..." I came closer, and eyed the picture displayed on the screen. The girl was naked, on her knees, her mouth open with her tongue waiting for the drop of clear liquid that hung from the hand of a man, who was out of the frame. Mom explained: "I thought we'd use maple syrup for this one. The only tricky part is the timing, so I set up a ten-frame shot, to be on the safe side. Shouldn't be too complicated." She smiled, pointed the camera and took her place on the mark. She stood again, made a tiny adjustment, and got back to the mark. She must have been satisfied with the result, because she took off the blue shirt, and told me to come closer. I did, and then we burst out laughing just trying to position me (or to be precise, my hand) relatively to the frame. Mom solved it when she told me I shouldn't care about what was on the screen, but where I was relative to her. And all of the sudden, it worked. Laughter threatened to make a come back as I was trying to get the maple syrup on my fingers without making a mess of it. I had to try twice (but Mom had brought wet towels, knowing this would be tricky), and we eventually got to recreate the shot. I held my hand, Mom opened her mouth, the syrup dripped down from my fingers, and I swallowed hard as the shutter went its usual (albeit longer this time) click-click-click. There was a long pause, our eyes locked together, and then as if a spell had been lifted, Mom stood up and walked to the computer to check the result. "Yess!", I heard her exclaim, and I approached. She grabbed a wet towel and started cleaning herself up, while I had a look. The picture on the screen was a near-perfect rendition of the original: hot and naughty as hell. And it was my Mom. I was so turned on I could feel my heart beating in my chest. "Are you game for one more?" Mom asked, with a glint in her eye. "Sure," I replied. "Great! Since you've been such a great model so far, I was thinking of trying something a little different... what about this one?" She clicked on a thumbnail, and the picture expanded on the screen. I nearly gasped. The picture was of a girl, with dark-rimmed glasses, who was trying to lick a drop of cum on the top of her breasts. She was wearing lacy gloves, and underneath her breast was a cock, obviously spent. Her left hand was somewhere close to the base of the cock, though it wasn't clear if she was actually touching it. I hesitated. "Wow, that's... that's different, that's for sure." She giggled. "Yes, but that pic is on your tumblr too. Oh come on, don't tell me you're going to be scared of a little nudity? After you've been ogling me for days, it's about time it was my turn," she laughed. "So come on, baby, stop with the shy act, 'drop trou' and show me what you've got, buster. Momma's got pictures to take." She finished laughing a little louder than usual. I chuckled, and shaking my head, took off my t-shirt. Emboldened by the alcohol, I even dared: "Though, I'd hate to sound defeatist... I'm not sure you'll be able to take that picture..." Mom frowned. "What do you mean?" I smiled, dropping my pants and standing in my boxer shorts, my erection clearly showing. "Well, I'm afraid I'm in no shape for that kind of shot..." She looked at me, her gaze stopping at my crotch, and she giggled. "Baby, you're right, that won't work. But it's a good thing I have a plan B." She clicked on the screen, and the next picture came up. It was a black and white shot, taken from the side, showing a naked woman pressing her face against the stomach of an equally naked man, his still hard cock pressed against the outside of her breast, cum trickling down her side. "O-kay", I hesitated. "This is more like it, right?" Mom giggled. "Erm, yeah, but..." "Oh, no! Don't go playing chicken, now! Come on, baby, just lose the shorts, and get your ass on the set." "Okay, Mom." I shrugged, and pulled the shorts down, letting my hard cock pop out freely. Mom froze. "Oh baby, it's beautiful!... it's going to be perfect for the shots. Come over here, baby, and get on your knees right here..." She adjusted the frame of the camera, changed the lighting, and came to join me. She knelt too, then bent down to put her head against my stomach, checking the display on the laptop's screen, pushed my cock to the side so it wasn't smothered by her tits, then, catching me by surprise at the last moment, lightly cupped my balls with her hand, as the shutter sounded its familiar little music. Mom stood back up and went to the laptop again. I was trying to gather my thoughts, my head spinning from the combined effect of the alcohol with these incredible sights and sensations, when she unhooked the camera from the tripod, and put it in a special harness hanging from the ceiling, the objective pointing down. She positioned it, and turned to me: "Okay baby, let's take another one." She indicated the computer screen, which was showing the picture of a naked woman lying on her back facing the camera, a hard cock resting on her left tit. I started to say something, but Mom was already in position on the floor, and motioned me to take the pose. This one was another awkward moment, as I had to straddle her while kneeling (Mom giggling a lot), and as we finally were in place, she corrected the placement of my cock (asking me for permission, without really waiting for my answer). And the shutter clicked again. We disentangled carefully. "Now's your turn, baby", she said. "Get on your back." "Oh, okay..." She had changed the reference pic on the computer, but from where I was, I couldn't see what it was. I laid on my back, my cock pointing straight up against my stomach. Mom adjusted my pose - spreading my legs a little, then knelt between them, taking a last look at the screen to check the display. She pressed the remote and dropped it, arched her back, and suddenly she put her hands on me - surrounding with them my balls and the base of my cock. I gasped, my cock throbbed and I thought I might cum right away, and the shutter clicked once more. Mom giggled. "Hmm, that should be a good one. Okay, next." I sat up as she unhooked the camera from the harness and put it back on the tripod, telling me to kneel next to the mark on the floor. Again, the computer screen was at my back, and I couldn't see what the next picture was. Mom came to sit next to me, and explained that I needed to hold my cock against the top of her breasts while she would be sitting, her arms crossed under her tits. We took the pose, she said "here we go", and just as the shutter was about to go, she lowered her head so that her lips were nearly touching the rim of my cockhead - so close I could feel her breath. The shutter clicked, she took her eyes off the objective and raised them to look at me, and she landed a soft kiss on my cock. "Thanks baby, you've been perfect..." I stood up, my mind completely blank. Mom picked up the laptop and brought it to her desk, and called me to see the pictures we had just shot. It was a bit strange to see them - I mean, contrary to the armchair shot we had taken the previous day, my face was not even in the frame, and it was as if the male body in the pictures belonged to someone else. While it was completely different with Mom, since she was everywhere, literally inhabiting every photo, my tumblr, my fantasies, right before my eyes. As quickly as it had come my thought flew away when I heard Mom. "What do you think, baby? They're good, don't you think?" Undeniably, the pictures were good re-creations of the originals. There were some differences, of course - and not just because Mom wasn't a thin waif like some girls in the pictures. The third shot (with the cock grab), which in the original didn't show the woman's face (only her breasts) would have to be reframed; and on the last one there was cum on the girl's tits, while our version only had slight smearing of my precum. "Erm, yeah they're good...I mean, it's just not what I was expecting." Mom smiled. "Sorry, baby, I didn't want to freak you out by showing you which pics I wanted to do. But I was sure they would turn out beautifully... and even more so when I got to see you," she winked, and I realized we were both still naked. I blushed. "Well, it's true I'm not sure I would have said yes for the last two shots..." "But do you regret it?" I chuckled. "Hm, maybe it's a little early to tell." She laughed. "Anyways, the pictures are just perfect. Look how hot they are..." "Yeah, maybe..." "Well, baby, I really appreciate you giving me a hand... (she giggled) ...so to say, with this project. It really means a lot to me, and well, that makes it all the more special, you know?" "It still feels a bit weird though..." "That's only natural. I mean, when I started this, you can't believe how the first pictures were so stiff and awkward, they just didn't work. I actually considered for a moment dropping the whole thing altogether. But then I decided to embrace it, and not feel embarrassed about it, and the pictures started to look better. And now, look at them... they look even sexier than the originals." I made a non-committal noise, and Mom smiled at me, giving me a little hug. Then she seemed to notice my hard cock again. "Baby, I'm going to wrap things up for tonight. I have a long day tomorrow, with a corporate shoot at some seminar, there are things I need to prepare still. And you should go and take care of that beautiful thing..." I blushed again, and I felt suddenly very aware of my hard-on and that this was my own mother, and I realized I was a bit chilly. It all felt like awakening from a dream, as if the strange mood that had taken over us was progressively dissolving to be replaced by the mundane normality of our daily life. I nodded, grabbed my things and quickly went upstairs, to make my stop in the bathroom. It didn't take me long to cum, my mind filled with the images and sensations from the photoshoot. But back in my room, I was still unsure about what had just happened. * * * * * Of course, the next day turned out to be an ordeal. I hadn't slept well, had made no less than three trips to the bathroom during the night thanks to the beer, and my head was pounding. Mom had left early, as she had to stop by her store to pick up her gear before heading out to the seminar location. I took a long shower, got ready in a haze, and even the large cup of black coffee didn't manage to get me fully operational. I was still trying to puzzle the events of the previous evening together, and I only vaguely followed the different lectures I had during the day. I excused myself when my friends proposed to go have a drink after the last class (earning more than a few laughs about not being able to hold my liquor) and headed back home. I tried to work on my assignments, without much success, so I resorted to updating my tumblr. For some reason, today's new posts were full of animated gifs, with numerous blowjobs and an equal number of titfucks (with cumshots). If the selection was graphic, it wasn't that great and I ended up only reposting three pics (a girl with an oversized tank top sliding down and draped to show off her heavy tits; one of the titfuck gifs, and another of a girl nibbling on a cum-covered cock). I pulled up my tumblr page, and browsed through it - thinking of the other version that Mom was putting together, and wondering how much of my help she would be willing to include. There's no denying I was turned on by the idea. I just wondered if I wasn't reading too much into what had happened so far, and if Mom was even considering that aspect of things. I sighed, closed the computer and went downstairs to clear my head by watching a basketball game on TV. Mom came home a little before seven. She looked exhausted from her day, but happy to be home. "Hey baby, how was your day? I brought some lasagna from that great little Italian place we both like so much, you know?" "The day was so-so. Never drink too much on a Sunday evening, makes Monday so much worse than usual. And that's saying something."