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She sighed, expecting some smoke, and said, "I saw the other pictures, it's not just fun." She watched for my reaction before she continued. I agreed that it was not right to have naked pictures of your mother."I will make you a deal," she started, "I don't like it, but here it is: You can look at me all you like, but the pictures have to go." Best deal I have ever heard.It felt like punishment, but I was looking ahead to the trade-off. "Oh, it's not right to take a picture of your mother while she's sleeping ... We were deleting the pictures as we went, and as she got the last one I asked if I could "look at her" right then. "Hon, that's a little much." I knew she wouldn't go for something so extreme right away, but I was disappointed anyway. There is nothing more exciting than seeing your mother in a plain white bra and granny panties. She modeled for me, holding a hand up and turning around. I want to look at you all day." She returned a "really?She let out another sigh and stood up from the table. "I had to delete that picture, it's my favorite one ... After a minute, she began to lose patience and started to get dressed. " look back at me and gathered up her outer clothes and put them away.I have to admit, while I pretended to be cool about it and watch the movie, I couldn't keep my mind on it one bit. I shut down the entertainment system and she headed off to bed. There is just something exciting about watching a woman dress and undress, something intimate.Besides, she was going to have to get naked to do so. She was a little reluctant to take her top off, but she just played it cool like it was nothing. As she did so, she noticed something about her crotch and was poking at it.Picturing her getting naked for the shower woke me up fast. Being a sleep shirt, it came off unceremoniously -- just up and over.
It was only natural that I would eventually want some souvenirs of her body for self-gratification later -- so I started taking pictures of her with my cell phone. I left my phone home one day and she tried to call me.
We hugged and I told her "thank you, I love you so much." The next morning, mom surprised me.
She was still dressed in her sleep shirt, but she was carrying her towel and shower supplies.
She toweled her hair off one last shake then dropped it down to her hips. She continued drying herself off, spending a half-second longer jiggling her boobs dry than she would have normally if I hadn't been there. Last night, I thought about it (emphasis on the "thought" as she pressed her hand absent-mindedly into her mound). I'm your mother, I need to teach you things about women." She was avoiding eye contact.
The speech was obviously rehearsed, repeated enough in her head until she believed it.
"First off," she started, putting her towel away and presenting herself (a little uncomfortably) completely nude to me, "all the books say that I need to be frank, open and unembarrassed about women's bodies.