Freudian Photography
Date: 22.09.2007Keywords: Freudian, Photography,
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"WARNING: If you are not 18 or older, please leave this page immediately.
Incest—a word that has extreme negative connotations. The image that most often comes about when the word is mentioned is that of a father forcing himself on his daughter. Any forcible sex act, especially done by a parent to a child, should result in the parent being punished in legal and non-legal ways.
This is a fantasy of consensual incest between adults. It is intended for adults who are interested in reading about consensual sex between relatives. If this offends you, do not continue any further."
*
Laura was finishing her spring cleaning in her son David's room. She respected his privacy and wouldn't go into his bedroom to putter around in but they had agreed that this morning she would go in there to clean up. The agreement was made over a week ago, with the understanding that anything private of his had to find a new "home" until after she finished in there that day. He didn't mind because he didn't have many private items which his suitcase couldn't hold. Besides—and best of all—she would clean up his room. He wasn't sloppy but he didn't like having to clean up his domain. So this worked out very well for the 22 year old.
Putting down the can of Pledge onto the window sill, Laura went to his desk for the thing she knew she would be going to: the envelope of photographs. She opened the large manila envelope and pulled out the photos of David. The first one on top was one of her son modeling a sweater. The next one was of him in a new line of parka. The third one was her favorite: it was a summertime shot of David wearing a short-sleeve shirt with a wide open collar. The collar was actually opened to mid-stomach, revealing a nice slice of his sculptured physique. The proud parent mused how quickly her handsome son broke into modeling. Since he was young, it was obvious that genetics were on David's side in the looks department. Both his mother and father realized this early on, and advised him to go into modeling. The looks and the help, i.e. Dad's best man who was a VP for a modeling agency, got David off to a flying start. For almost a year the boy got offers to pose for some of the country's top clothes designers. He was doing well for ten months...until Fate gave him first a bad "hand," then an even worse one.
The company where the VP friend worked had been under investigation by law enforcement authorities for sexual harassment charges. When the situation came to trial, as part of the settlement several higher-ups were let go, including the family friend. Soon there after, the model requests and offers dried up. Seven months had passed and David couldn't get a modeling gig if the world was coming to an end. Then an even bigger blow came soon after. David's father was finishing up late at the office and just got in his car heading home from his uptown New York office to White Plains. A few moments after he pulled out of his parking spot, a man who had just finished his fourth round at a nearby bar, also got into his car...and afterwards plowed right into David's dad's car after running a red light. The drunk driver ended up with a laceration to the forehead and eventually stitches. The father, enroute to the hospital—DOA.
The months following the funeral were rough for Laura and David. Financially they had a nice cushion in the bank but emotionally parent and child were in bad shape. As they healed, they realized that despite the money in the bank accounts, they both needed to occupy their time with work. The mother returned to her roots in banking, and was fortunate to land an executive secretary position for a well-known bank. The son took a job at a men's suit shop.
One day while at the men's store a customer came in who remembered David from a prior photo gig. The man offered his condolences and the two conversed. A fair exchange had been made: the man bought two new suits, and David learned of a photo session for a very well known maker of men's swim wear. David wasn't thrilled about the nature of the pictures; he had been approached about this type of pictorial during the days when things were good. He was a modest young man and wasn't interested in this type of work. But considering his current drought, he recalled the old saying, "Beggars can't be choosey." Not wanting to appear needy, we waited a couple of days before calling the man. Laura exclaimed at dinner that night, "Honey that so wonderful! Oh that is such great news!"
"Yeah, but it's swimwear," he protested somewhat.
"So?"
He looked down at his lasagna. "I don't like that type of photography."
"Why?" she inquired incredulously. When we went to the beach last year you looked great in your swim suit."
"These aren't regular swim shorts I'd be showing off. It would be Speedos."
She had instant flashback to when the three of them went to the Hamptons and David was lying on his back at the beach. Laura's mind changed one thing about the flashback: David was on his back on the beach but in that skimpy material known as a Speedo. Did her heart just skip a beat at the thought of her son in a thong for men? she wondered. She returned to reality seeing her son still staring at his food.
Her first instinct was to go on about taking what you can get when you get an offer in your field even if it isn't your preference. But then the motherly instinct took over.
"Ah baby, you got a chance to get back into modeling. Granted it is not what you want right now but don't concentrate on that."
David sighed with exasperation, picking his head up to stare up at the kitchen ceiling. "Even if I wanted to do it, I have to have the photos done on my own. And quickly. I lost contact with almost all my old photographers. The one I still had their telephone number for was all ready booked."
"What about me?" the mother asked. "I used to do photography."
"Yeah but how many years ago, Mom. How long ago has it been since you picked up a camera. College?"
She was ever so slightly offended and was ready to say, "The clock's ticking, Junior. It's me or no deal because no one else is available" but she kept quiet. Instead she silently conveyed this message by staring straight at him. Their eyes were locked, and the son soon realized this was his only option. "Ok, Mom. You're right," he relented. "Thank you and I am sorry about the college comment."
She smiled. "You're welcome. When do you need the pixs by?"
"Two weeks."
"Shall we do the shoot Saturday? We can set up here in the house. I still have my umbrellas and things."
"Sounds perfect," he said with a more-upbeat tone.
Laura said, "One question though, David."
"Yeah, Mom?"
"You still need just to push a button to take a picture, right? That's how I remembered how a camera works."
"Mom!"
The gleaming mother playfully ran her left hand through her son's dark locks.
The next day David was off from his job and received a call from his contact.
"What size jeans do you wear, David?"
"Why?"
"Just tell me."
David told him and was instructed to come in the next day. He would have to also do a couple of pictures wearing a new line of jeans. That night at dinner, he was once again down.
"They want me to have several shots done of me in these new jeans without a shirt. WITHOUT A SHIRT?" he bemoaned.
Laura rolled her eyes back. "So what's the problem?"
"Mom! What—you don't remember? I don't like "fleshy" photography. Sure I did that shot with my shirt open but at least I kept it on. Plus you'll be taking the picture. They want a couple of beefcake poses."
Slightly annoyed the mother replied, "Didn't we already discuss about having to do things you'd rather not do to get back into modeling. And what's the big deal about me seeing you without your top off while wearing jeans? I'm going to be taking pictures of you in a skimpy swear suit. Stop being such a wuss."
That stung. But David knew his mother was right. "Oh—alright," he relented.
"Besides, you're not my type," Laura quipped with a grin.
Actually—and secretly—David had become Laura's type. She had started having unorthodox feelings for her son. It started with butterflies in the stomach when she was near him, much the same way she had with musicians and actors during her teen years. Then, shortly before they agreed for her to be his photographer, Laura was having erotic dreams about her son. The dreams had the two fucking and sucking into oblivion. Her favorite one, which was recalled even while at work, had Laura in the shower. Her back was to the shower door. David entered the shower, and said "Mom?" With a devilish grin she parted her legs and he slipped into her from behind. Most mornings up to the day of shoot, Laura woke up with her fingers buried in her pussy and/or wrapped around a breast or nipple; the sheets drenched with her release. She was happy David's room was downstairs so he could not hear her midnight moans of self- pleasure.
She clearly knew her desire was incestuous. She did feel some guilt, but more defensive of her forbidden thoughts. Other mothers have felt the same way about their sons so she wasn't the only one. She reasoned May-December romances were a de-facto scenario of forbidden mother-son love. She was a young widow living in a house with an incredibly good looking and well built man...who happens to be her son; this factor of relationship doing little to bother her. In fact it fueled her XXX dreams. The mother figured nothing would ever happen between her and her offspring. 'If I said anything, he may even be so disgusted that he removes me from his life' she also considered. She figured that once she met someone else these illicit dreams would be replaced by "the real thing".
On Saturday morning, Laura went to the basement and retrieved all her photographic equipment. She was glad she didn't listen to her husband who told her to get rid of sell the stuff. Wow, that was a switch: a wife wanted to keep old stuff and the husband told her to chuck it? She brought everything into David's bedroom and set up shop.
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Keywords: Freudian, Photography,