Mother of Necessity

Cliff's cell phone rang that Tuesday afternoon, as he packed his gear for a photography session. He pulled it from his pocket and answered. "Hello."

"Is your client's offer still open?" Melinda's voice.

Cliff paused as his brain caught up to speed. Melinda. His crazy scheme with Beth. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Then I'll do it. We'll do it. Dylan and I."

Cliff felt a second of intense anxiety. He let it pass. "Wow. Okay, great."

"When can we arrange it?"

Cliff thought about it. "I have an opening tomorrow night. Unless you'd rather wait-"

"No. I don't want to wait. I'll lose my nerve."

"And Dylan's okay with it?"

"Yeah, he agreed." A soft chuckle from her. "He didn't take much convincing."

"Okay. We'll shoot here at my apartment. That okay with you?"

"Sure. What time?"

"Seven."

"We'll be there." A pause. "Cliff? Is there going to be anything... expected of us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do we have to do anything besides appear in the photos together? To get the money?"

"No. Like I said, whatever you're comfortable with, Melinda."

"Okay," she said, and hung up.

# # #

That evening, as she scrubbed herself in the shower, Melinda nearly had a panic attack.

The enormity of what she was about to do - what she and Dylan were about to do - hit her full force, and her heart started racing. She braced herself against the wall of the shower, concentrating on the force of the hot water pounding on her back and neck, until her breathing slowed and she could focus again.

She had to face some things, and fast. This wasn't just about the money for her. A part of her - a strong, lustful part of which she was frequently ashamed - wanted Dylan. The part that looked at him when he lounged around the house shirtless, the part that thought about him late at night when they were both in their beds and she imagined him naked under the covers, pleasuring himself the way young men did. The part that imagined slipping into his room, naked, interrupting his sleep to confess her lust to him in a conspiratorial whisper, warning him not to wake his brother... doing the same thing to Justin later that evening...

Pervert.

Melinda had wanted to be offended when Cliff made his bizarre proposition. She'd actually worked at it for a minute or two before realizing she couldn't work up any offense. Showing Cliff the game, telling him her secret fantasies, admitting her innermost taboo to him when they were supposed to be just friends with benefits. Hadn't she pretty much made this happen?

This was on her. But what about Dylan? He was young, and eager to help however he could. She knew how much their financial problems weighed on him. Justin, at least, had a job and could help a little with the bills. But the car situation was tough to schedule and the job market for young people in this town wasn't great.

Was Dylan just going along with this because he wanted to help? Or did he feel about her the same way she felt about him?

As she turned off the water, her body dripping wet, Melinda decided she had to be as certain as possible.

# # #

She knocked on Dylan's bedroom door, dressed only in a brief blue towel. Her hair was still damp, down around her bare shoulders in glistening curls. The towel in question was not well-suited to modesty - even at her height, it showed copious cleavage and ended at her upper thighs.

You're biasing this whole situation, Melinda, she thought to herself. Maybe she was.

Silently, she felt a moment of gratitude Justin was spending the night with friends, as he so often did. Even though he still lived at home, he was gone so much of the time. For the best. Trying to do this with Dylan's older brother here would have been trouble.

"Yeah," Dylan called through the door. She didn't hear any simulated gunfire or explosions, so he wasn't gaming.

"Sweetie? Can I come in?"

A pause. "Sure."

She opened the door onto the chaos of his room. His was a typical teenager's bedroom: desk piled high with electronics, every inch of wall covered with band and movie posters, a sprawl of textbooks on the floor, dirty dishes and empty wrappers on every available surface. He lay on the bed, propped up by pillows, laptop on his lap. Her motherly instincts told her he had the look of someone who had just switched off incognito mode on his browser.

"What d-" his eyes bulged when he saw her. She watched as he valiantly tried, then failed, not to scan her body up and down with his eyes. His gaze lingered on her breasts and the bare flesh of her thighs just below the towel - then back to her face again. He flushed.

"Hi," she said, shutting the door quietly behind her and leaning her back against it. Could she still pull off a seductive posture? The way he started fidgeting told her yes. "Do you have a second?"

"Sure," he stammered.

Melinda remembered she was supposed to be assessing her son's state of mind, not seducing him, and pushed herself off from the door. "I called Cliff. We're going to meet him for the photo shoot tomorrow night around seven."

He nodded hesitantly. "Okay."

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"Um, no. Not unless you have." His gaze wandered to her bare flesh again.

"I just want to make sure you're comfortable with this, Dylan. I don't want you to do this just because you think you should."

"No," he said, his voice quivering. "I want to do it. I mean- if you do."

Relief and arousal flooded through her in a confusing rush. "I want to."

"Okay... great," he replied, carefully balancing his laptop on his thighs. She realized he might well be trying to hide an erection. She found the thought oddly pleasing.

She took a deep breath. "I'm glad. In that case... there's something I want to do before we have our photos taken."

He stared at her with an anticipation that seemed to verge on dread. "What?"

For answer, she let the towel slip further down her glistening shoulders, then her arms.

"I don't want you to be too surprised tomorrow," she said softly.

She let the towel fall away from her breasts. Her nipples were stiff, not from cold, but from arousal. Before she could lose her nerve, she drew the towel aside and let it drop to the floor, standing in front of him in all her nakedness.

Dylan's jaw slowly dropped, his gaze transfixed.

She wasn't sure what to do with her hands, and they met under her breasts, fingers lacing together. "Do you like looking at me?"

"Yes," he breathed, shifting uncomfortably.

She smiled. "Good." She turned, tilting her hips to let him have a look at her ass, feeling daring and embarrassed and aroused and terrified. She was heartened by the fact that Dylan seemed pleasantly shocked. She turned back to him again, running her hands across the tops of her breasts and lifting them a bit for him. "I'm glad."

"Should I... um..."

Melinda smile. "No, sweetie." She bent over to pick up her towel, then folded it around her body. "Not until tomorrow."

She left him there with his eyes wide and jaws hanging, enjoying the feeling of mischievous glee that rose in her. She thought about leaning over and kissing him goodnight - but knew, if she did, it wouldn't stop there.

There's something for you to think about tonight, sweetie, she thought, and smiled.

# # #

Cliff's doorbell rang at quarter after seven. He answered the door to find Melinda and Dylan standing in the hall. She wore a silky button-up blouse and short black skirt; he wore a tee shirt and sweats. Melinda was made up, lipstick perfectly applied, chocolate-brown hair lightly curled.

"Sorry we're late," she said. "My piece of shit car wouldn't start."

"It's no problem," Cliff said. "Come on in."

Melinda kissed him on the cheek, color high in her cheeks. "I wasn't sure what we should wear," she said. "Dylan doesn't really own many nice clothes..."

"It's fine," he said. "The important thing is to just be natural. You look nice."

A grateful smile broke across her face. "Thank you."

"Your apartment is huge," Dylan said, looking out the doors that led to the balcony. The bay windows gave a spectacular view of the city.

"Thanks," Cliff replied. "Step into my office."

He led them into the adjoining living room, where he'd set up light boxes and his equipment around a large, comfortable red couch. Cliff gestured toward the couch.

"This is where we'll shoot." He produced a flask and offered it to Melinda.

She took a swig, making sure to do so out of Dylan's sight, and handed it back. "Thanks."

"Sure. So, I won't give you a lot of direction to start with - I just want you two to do what comes naturally."

"That seems kind of unlikely," Melinda said with a nervous grin. "But I get what you mean."

Cliff put on some soft music and started preparing his cameras, giving Melinda and Dylan some space. Melinda moved to the couch and turned to Dylan, who was poking around Cliff's Blu-Ray collection.

"Dylan. Come here, sweetheart."

He approached, fidgeting. "Who still collects DVDs?"

"Don't be rude, honey." She touched his chest gently. She could feel his heart pounding fast and hard. "Are you nervous?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Me too. Remember I love you." She hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "We're going to have fun together. I promise."

Cliff approached, camera in hand. "I'd like to start with a few candids, okay? You can have a seat, get comfortable... talk. Hug. Whatever you want."

Melinda and Dylan sat next to each other on the couch. They warmed up for about half an hour, chatting awkwardly about nothing in particular. Melinda tried to put Dylan - and herself - at ease by touching his arm, leaning into him, sometimes kissing him on the cheek. Cliff snapped photos, occasionally requesting casual poses.

Finally, Cliff paused.

"Okay," he said. "Are you two ready?"

"I guess so." Melinda looked to Dylan. "Are you ready, sweetie?"

"Yeah," he said hoarsely, almost in a whisper.

"Great," Cliff said. "Why don't you two stand up at first?"

They did. Melinda stood close to her son, placing her hands gently on his chest. At eighteen, he was already a full head taller than her. She liked that, and always had. She stepped out of her shoes and pushed them to one side with her foot. After a moment, Dylan followed suit. His gaze wandered nervously, and she touched his cheek, turning his face to hers to give him a reassuring look. In truth, she was terrified, and the only thing that anchored her was her love for Dylan.

Cliff's voice seemed to come from miles away. He stood back and waited, camera at the ready. "Melinda, when you feel comfortable, why don't you try undoing a few buttons?"

Melinda met Dylan's eyes, looking at him steadily. "I trust you," she whispered, smiling up at him, and took his hands. She placed them on her chest, coaxing his fingers toward the buttons. After a moment, he began undoing them, fumbling a bit as his fingers trembled. Finally, he undid the last button, and she shrugged the blouse away, revealing a black lacy bra underneath.

"It unfastens in the front," she whispered helpfully.

With a shaky smile, he reached for the clasp and unfastened it, letting her breasts fall free. Melinda let the bra drop to the floor too. She looked at Dylan. He was staring at her body, of course, fascinated and embarrassed. She found she loved the way he looked at her.

He caught himself and snapped his gaze to hers with a guilty expression. She giggled.

"It's okay, Dylan. You can look at me. I want you to." Melinda reached down to undo her skirt. She wore black panties underneath, and held Dylan's gaze as she hooked her thumbs through them and slowly slid them down. They dropped to the floor, and she stepped out of them, standing naked before her son. The cameras filmed silently.

"Now let's do you, honey," Melinda said.

Nodding eagerly, he lifted his tee shirt over his head before she could help him. She took a moment to run her fingers down his chest, feeling the soft flesh, fine lines of muscle there. Then she slowly went to her knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact, and pulled down on his sweats. A gasp of surprise escaped her as his cock sprang free, only inches from her face. He hadn't been wearing anything underneath.

"Oh! Dylan..." she grinned as she pulled his sweats the rest of the way off: they were both naked now. She took a moment to admire him from her kneeling position before standing up again.

Unprompted, she drew Dylan into a close hug, their bare bodies pressed together. After a moment, she took his hand and guided it to her breast, letting him squeeze it. He made a soft noise of gratification.

Melinda looked to Cliff. "So, what do we do now?"

Cliff continued to shoot photos. "Whatever you want. The video camera's running. Do what you feel like doing."

She put a hand on the back of Dylan's neck. "Do you want to kiss me, Dylan?"

"Yes," Dylan said, and she initiated the kiss, pressing her lips and her body against his. His hands caressed her breasts as he kissed her neck and shoulders, inexpertly but eagerly. Melinda sighed happily, letting her son do what he liked. His hands explored, hesitating at each new threshold: hands pausing at the small of her back before touching her ass, fingers trailing the lines of her hips and stomach before reaching up to squeeze her breasts. Their lips rarely parted.

This had escalated faster than Melinda had anticipated. When she had imagined this shoot, she'd imagined a few awkward photos, maybe not touching much at all, a familial hug while just happening to be naked. It hadn't worked out that way. But it seemed clear they both wanted this.

If this was how it was going to be, then so be it.

Breathing heavily, she ran a hand down Dylan's body until she found his cock. She took it in her hand gingerly, squeezed. He moaned into her mouth. She began to stroke him gently, drawing aroused sounds from him. He swayed on his feet and she steadied him with a hand, still kissing him. His breath began to come faster, his hands traveling restlessly up and down her body, unsure where to settle. Melinda looked toward the lens of the camera, choosing to acknowledge their invisible patron for a moment, before turning back to her son.

"Dylan," she whispered to him at last. "I want to make you come, sweetheart. Do you want to come for me?"

Her son nodded, equal parts hesitation and eagerness. An eager, inarticulate sound escaped him. Melinda bit her lip, took a deep breath, and went on her knees in front of him.

"Oh god," he breathed. "Mom..."

She took a moment to admire the cock resting in her hand. Cliff stepped closer, the snapping sound of the camera going off repeatedly, and she realized she had almost forgotten he was there.

Melinda took a moment to look into her son's eyes, seeing the arousal and excitement there. Part of her wanted to take her time, to tease him and draw this out, but she was also eager to please him. She wanted him in every way. She wanted to put his cock in her mouth, to feel him come in her mouth. She wanted her son to fuck her, to show him how she liked to be fucked. But that was too much, far too much to do in these strange circumstance. She could only be so bold. So she squeezed his cock gently and began to stroke him, looking up at his face as she knelt before him.

"Mom!" He groaned, a gratifying sound, his hand touching her shoulder gingerly. She put her other hand on his stomach, feeling the flutter of muscle there as she jerked him off. He looked both powerful and helpless, towering above her, his face screwed up in an agony of pleasure. She gave herself over to the moment. This was the culmination of so many fantasies, so many forbidden thoughts, and it was really happening-

"Oh f-!" he groaned, and his cock pulsed in her hand. She drew back, pulling down a bit to aim at her breasts. When he came, it was thick and copious, splattering her neck and upper chest, both breasts. Warm and sticky, it began running down almost immediately. He gave a low, agonized groan, almost a croak, his hand clutching her shoulder, swaying as if he might fall over.

Melinda giggled with the absurdity of it, looking up at him. He looked back down at her in disbelief and gratification. He collapsed to the couch, panting, closing his legs and folding his hands in his lap, as if he were suddenly shy.

"What a good boy," she said, feeling carnal and happily transgressive. Her hand was covered in come. She held it in the air helplessly.

"Okay," Cliff said. "That was amazing. I think we've got everything we need."

Melinda turned to the static video camera and gave it a smile, daubing at the sticky fluid that decorated her breasts. She found she couldn't stop laughing in joy.

# # #

Afterward, they got dressed. Melinda withdrew to the bathroom to clean up, taking a few moments to slow her racing heart. She felt oddly satisfied, even though she'd had no orgasm herself. Giving Dylan one, under such extraordinary circumstances, had been more than enough for her. She looked at herself in the mirror to see if she felt some sort of crippling shame or regret.

There was none. She'd done as she'd wanted to do.

She gave her hair a final once-through and emerged into the living room. Cliff was talking with Dylan, who was dressed and acting as though nothing had happened - at least, he was no more or less awkward than ever.

As she approached, Cliff turned and produced a cashier's check. "As promised. Eight thousand dollars for one session."

"Thank you." She took it, folded it, and slipped it into her purse. "I'm not really sure what to say. Tell your client I hope he enjoys the photos and video?"

Cliff nodded. "I'm sure he will. You both did great. I'm not sure what to say either, except... money well earned?"

Dylan was already out the door, not wanting to socialize. Melinda laughed and pulled Cliff into a hug. As she held him, she whispered into his ear. "Thank you for this."

"Hey, friends help friends, right?"

Melinda thought she saw a melancholy look cross his face. She squeezed his hand and kissed him on the cheek. "We'll talk soon."

# # #

As they drove home in the battered Corolla, Melinda looked over at her son. He was staring pensively out the windshield, one foot up on the dash. Normally, she would have admonished him to put it down - but she let it go.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"I was just thinking... I should get a cut of that money," he said.

She laughed in amused astonishment. "Oh, you do, do you? You want your ten percent?"

He grinned. "I think it's only fair I get something out of the deal."

"Um, I think you did get something out of the deal, son of mine. Besides, what would you do with eight hundred dollars? Blow it on downloadable content for your games or whatever?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"No maybe. Anyway, if I gave you eight hundred, I'd have to give your brother eight hundred, and then there would be a lot of questions I'm not ready to answer yet."

He made an unhappy face. "Are we really going to keep this a secret from Justin forever?"

The question stung. Melinda had always known she was going to have to face that moment. "This has made things kind of complicated. I'll deal with it when the time comes. Okay, Dylan?"

"Sure." They rode in silence for awhile before he spoke again. "I was only kidding about the money."

"No you weren't. But you'll both get huge gift card balances come Christmas. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good. I... I really enjoyed being with you tonight, Mom. You looked really beautiful. And... I really enjoyed it."

Melinda took his hand, feeling a sudden swell of gratitude. "Thank you, sweetie. I really enjoyed being with you, too. I love you a lot."