Preamble:
The scene is a hotel suite.
In Chapter 1, the parents, Ethan and Emma (Em), enlisted their twenties son, David's help to take intimate photos of them, on their 50th birthday and 30th wedding anniversary night, for posterity.
After the photoshoot, dad, mum in a revealing nightie, and son chilled, as they reviewed the photo slideshow. There was a simmering palpable tension of fleeting nudity, voyeurism, exhibition and implied incest in the air.
As it was getting late, and everyone had been enjoying the copious champagne flow, the parents asked their son to stay over in the hotel suite, and not drive home.
In this chapter, the parents include their son in the photoshoot to make it an inclusive family photo project. One photoshoot pose scene leads to another...
As in Chapter 1, there is nudity, exhibitionist and voyeuristic tension, and teasing lite sex in this chapter. And the implied incest heightens to full flourish.
If you are looking for animated, wailing and screeching sex, this is not for you. You will be disappointed. Best you move on.
In Chapter 1, the narrator was the father. This chapter is written in third person narrative.
*****
This is the single most dissonating night of David's life of 27 years.
He drops in, unannounced, on his dad and mum at their hotel suite to celebrate their joint 50th birthdays, and their 30th wedding anniversary. He expected to do his surprise, surprise bit, pop the champagne, eat cake, hugs and kisses, chill some, and then leave his parents to their own devices, on this special night of theirs.
Instead, David has been commissioned to take nude intimate photos of his parents, enmeshed in lovemaking positions, albeit with breasts and genitals artfully concealed in the body tangle mash.
David has never seen his mum in anything less than a sensible one-piece swimsuit before tonight. No childhood accidental bathroom ooops nudity flashes. No teenhood inadvertent fleeting lingerie exposés. No spectacular wardrobe malfunctions. David cannot remember ever having any access to his mum's wardrobe and laundry basket lingerie velvety stash.
An underprivileged, dreary upbringing, cruelly deprived of his rightful oedipal rations. Freud would have been nauseated by this austerity.
In the last two hours, David made up this deficit in one fell swoop. He had seen his mum nude, in pixels, and in rippling flesh. He has seen his mum's breasts, just shy of her nipples. Her lady part coyly unveiled. Her convulsing in the throes of ecstasy, in her body locked photo poses with his dad.
And now, his mum has asked him to go the washroom, get changed comfortably into a hotel bathrobe, and stay the night.
What more is in store, he wonders? And what does his dad think of all this?
David takes off his shirt. Drops his trousers. He has a raging hard-on from the merciless visual teasing of his mum.
He dons the bathrobe. Hmmm... a womanly piquant scent wafts the air. He flips the front open. A wet patch at the crotch area. He brings the glistening patch to his nose. Hmmm... his mum. This is the bathrobe she wore before and after the intimate coupling photoshoot just now. Her mark of arousal. His hard-on twitches a notch north.
He is about to walk out of the washroom, when on an inexplicable whim, he stops, pulls down his underwear with abandon. His penis head is now in contact with the patch. Moist on moist. He shudders. His erection tents the bathrobe. What will his parents, particularly his mum think? Well, she caused it. So, this is par for the course. Par for her course. This thought emboldens him.
David rejoins his parents in the lounge. David senses an expectant air, although he doesn't quite know of what.
Em spies the tent in David's bathrobe. She appears like she is about to say something, and then bites her lip, as if knowing better, and saving it for later. Ethan looks at his son, discerns his condition, then directs his gaze instinctively to his wife's eyes.
Seeing his dad sitting on the single-seater across his mum, David sidles next to his mum on the couch. David reads that this is where they want him to be.
Em's right foot is flat on the carpet. Her left foot is tucked below her arse. Her hemline is bunched in a fluttered clutter around her bare mound, concealing it only just so. There is a certain uncanny precision in the sensuality. This has the effect of accentuating the flare of her thighs to hips, akin to a high-cut leotard. Em leans into David. Thighs flesh to flesh.
They have another round of bubbly.
Em (touching David's thigh): David, are you comfy?
David (stroking his mum's creamy silken upper thigh in corresponding bodily response): Never more so. This is bliss.
Ethan: Em, you are so relaxed now. Chilled to the bone. I want to take a few photos of you now, in this state.
Em stands up. She poses in her nominal nightie.
Ethan: Nude.
Em: Oh? Haven't you taken enough? David is here.
Ethan: Please... David has already seen us earlier.
David (feeling awkward): Do you want me to chill out at the balcony for awhile?
Em: Oh no, David! Please stay.
Em shakes her head. She stands up. She faces away from Ethan and David in an instinctive show of modesty. Em removes her nightie without any fuss. She feels a rippling tingle. She pivots around. Being completely naked in front of her husband and son obviously does not bother her at all.
This is the first time that David sees his mum in her full glory, without the pressing tension of the earlier photoshoot. Ethan takes some classic shots of Em looking coyly away from the camera before trying some perspective shots that concentrate on her body lines. These focus on just a breast, the curve of her hips, the arc of her arse orbs, or maybe a tight shot of her shaved mound.
David, who has completed a photography course module in uni, gives some photoshoot tips to his dad.
Em turns this way and that, twists, pivots, pirouettes, as Ethan orbits and hovers over her, like a drone, clicking away. As his dad has reassumed his photographic duties, David is at leisure, for the first time tonight, to ogle his mum, admire her maternal charms, according her the rapt attention she deserves, without distraction.
Ethan: David, what do you think of your mum?
David: A natural model in the making.
Ethan: That can't be all. Don't be bashful.
David: Simply alluring. Comely is my spontaneous gush word of choice, if a son is allowed to describe that of his mum. I have other adjectives in my word stock. But, I'd better rein myself in here because it's a small treacherous step to tripping headlong over the line. A son is socially permitted to describe his mum in only so many ways, before he ranges into a man describing a woman.
Ethan (running his hands lovingly through Em's hair): Yes, she is lovely, isn't she!
Em (evidently pleased, but faking annoyance, pouting): Hey, it's me here you're discussing.
Ethan: And so we are! You're a moveable feast! We menfolk are entitled to a connoisseurs tête-à-tête.
A champagne break.
David expects his mum to slip on her nightie again. Counterintuitively, he is looking forward to seeing her in her nominal kittenish nightie again, less is more, to refresh her sensuality.
But, Em casually sits back on the couch. It is as if it is everyday custom for a wife, and a mother to sit naked with her husband and son, to sip champagne, and banter. David's initial disappointment of not seeing his mum in her teasing nightie again immediately fades away when he sees his mum sitting coquettishly with her legs crossed, concealing her feminine charms only just so, peek-a-boo.
Ethan orbits Em, takes photos of her as she sits sipping her bubbly nonchalantly. Even in such an unlikely position, Em looks great.
Ethan: David, it's your turn now.
David: To shoot more photos?
Ethan: No! To be shot!
David (puzzled): Huh?
Ethan: In the festive mood we are in, I reckon it would be nice if we take a threesome photo, for posterity. We can use the camera self-timer.
David (stunned): A threesome?
Em: Huh?
Ethan: I mean a nude family photo. As in relax, smile, move a little closer, say cheese.
