Sara

"What?"

"One thing, maybe. Well not sure how to say this, but if you can lose a bit of weight around your waist and hips that would make you a bit more in line with the pros."

Sara was not offended. "I'm already on it and have been working in the gym on my love handles and my hips. Not much to show for the effort yet, but it's in the works."

"Had a thought about this doubles. How about pairing up with your daughter? She seemed keen to have a go at modeling. Maybe we could do a rehearsal shoot so I can see if Shamina and you work together aesthetically, and present the results to the client for his OK so you can then do paid work. How does that arrangement work for you?"

"That works for me. I'll ask Shamina later today. Can that be worked into Shamina's class schedule? Most evenings she's free."

"Sure we can schedule around Shamina." Martin was now getting excited. He wondered how far he could take this. "Call me after you have spoken with her and we'll fix a date. Must rush now. Wait your call. Bye." Sara could not get a word in at the end, but she sensed his excitement. Suddenly she wished she had a vibrator of some such equipment.

After Shamina had finished her supper Sara spoke to her about the call with Martin. Shamina became excited at the prospect of doing some modeling. She asked if they would get paid, so Sara explained that Martin cast the session as a rehearsal, since she, Sara had never participated in a double model session and because Shamina was an unknown talent. Shamina would had preferred to have Martin to herself but settled for what was offered. They established three dates and times that suited them both. Sara emailed the details to Martin. She received a quick reply for the Friday evening a week further on.

Martin needed a paid commission for Sara and Shamina. Well paid if possible. His charming prick of a friend, Derek came to mind. They roomed at university together. Derek got into the pants of every woman Martin introduced to him including Martin's wife. He was brilliant programmer and created an on-line Poker app in the early days and was bought out for an obscene amount.

Derek owns and runs an 876 call centre with an adult porn video business on the side. He enjoys his hobby businesses as it allows him to meet some interesting women, and as long it come close to breaking even he's happy. They have a code word "DIH" (dick in hand) Guys will call when they're excited and ready to cum; person who takes the call has to spin the call out as long as possible talking the caller down from the ledge so to speak.

Martin called Derek for a drink. They met in a local bar they used to frequent as students. They were oldest people in the bar.

"Hey, old buddy" Derek said giving Martin a mock punch in the gut. "Weird you calling. I was going to call you next week."

Martin seemed distracted.

"Hello. Hello. I have a job for you. I'd like to launch a new ad campaign for the 876 service." Derek said, his eyes wandering over all the women in the place.

"I just did an ad campaign for you 8 months ago" Martin was annoyed when he thought of the hours of work for the cut-rate fee Derek had ground out of him. He was here to ask a favor and he was getting hit with another shit job. He fought down the bile in his stomach. He needed Derek.

"Sure, sure. It was great. I just want a new angle going into summer." Derek was not about to be put off.

"I'm working on a catalogue layout. It's going to have to wait at least two weeks." Martin knew better than to say the work would be done in 3 days.

"Hey, no problem, pal"

Martin had a new thought. "Hey, how would you like two south Asian women as the theme?"

"Tell me more."

"I'm breaking in two women from Bribajistan who wish to crack the modeling market. I have them lined up for demonstration trial next week. You'll love this - Mother and Daughter. Mother a university grad. Daughter just finished second year. Bright gals."

"Tell me more."

Martin improvised a story. If you want to see them, come by next Friday at five thirty in my studio.

"OK. Might do that if you send me a photo of them and I find them OK."

"Only have shots of the Mother. Nice figure. The daughter is almost a carbon copy. Tits and hips a bit smaller I guess. Skin a bit smoother, and quite sassy. I'll email them tomorrow morning." Martin hesitated for a moment and then dove in. "Have you guys got some wardrobe stuff I can borrow for the shoot?"

"We'll see. Send me the photos. If I'm in, Ingrid will call you. She'll need measurements. Now lets get serious." Derek raised his arm a fraction. "Two draught pints, with double scotch chasers." Derek always had the knack for catching the barman's eye.

Sara replied immediately to Martin's request for Shamina's and her measurements. She resisted the urge to remind him he already had her numbers. Sara was pleased. The request showed that Martin was serious and the session was real.

Sara was naïve in Shamina's estimation. In fact she was more of an innocent than naive around relationships. That could not be said of money. She accounted for every penny of their expenditures using computer software. She used direct deposits and debits, her debit card and visa for expenditures where she could track where the money went with some accuracy. On the second of each month Sara sat down to check the account on line, then download and code the transactions. She then printed the expenditure reports.

As she looked at the current numbers there was one large glaring gap: there had been no deposit from Ahmed. Sara felt a shudder of fear run through her. She tried to rationalize that probably a banking glitch had occurred, but in her heart she knew what had happened. She phoned the bank. They phoned back an hour later with the news that the standard banking-transfer had been cancelled in South Africa.

She emailed Ahmed asking what happened to the support payment. She received a curt reply telling her as a divorced woman he had no obligation to send money to her or Shamina. They would receive nothing more from him. He stated he did not want to hear from her again. Her budget was now $2000 a month short.

Panic set in. Sara had no idea how they would survive. She had savings for about three months of living expenses, if they kept at their current spending level, providing there were no extraordinary unplanned expenses. The ceramics income had dropped off after an initial flurry of sales with the novelty of her work hitting the galleries. Her new work may produce some sales, but it meant that Sara was faced with either producing commercially or getting more for her pieces.

Sara was grim when Shamina arrived home. She laid out the facts. Shamina said she'd get a job, but did not sound enthusiastic about it. Sara was worried about Shamina's grades if she also worked. She could also get student loans. To date she managed to remain loan free. Sara also contemplated getting a job, but had no idea what work. They agreed they needed a plan but had no idea what form it would take. Although Sara had not drunk alcohol since she was in college, and normally refused all pressure to have a drink, they broke out a bottle of wine and finished it between them. They slept together peacefully in each other's arms.

At the studio the next day Sara remembered one of the older ladies mentioned that she had been a lawyer. Sara cornered her in the cafeteria. "Grace, can you give me some free advice?"

Grace liked Sara. She had helped Grace with some glazing issues and was friendly. "Sure, Sara. What can I do for you?" Sara explained her position as clearly as she could. Grace asked some questions and reflected on the answers. "Sara, Ahmed is still married to you in Canadian eyes. He has an obligation to you and your daughter. You'd most likely win any case in court, but the legal fees would run into thousands, if not tens of thousands of dollars, that I assume you do not have. That said it would be a pyrrhic victory. I can think of no way you'd be able to collect from him in South Africa. The only suggestion I have is to write to his company and see if you can get at him that way. It's a slim to no chance way to go. I can offer nothing better, but I'll make some phone calls and see if I can come up with anything better."

Shamina did the research, found the Company contact details on their Annual Statement, and had written a succinct draft of a letter to the CEO, all in the course of two hours that evening. After a bit of burnishing of the language, and checking the spelling three times they sent the letter off as an email, explaining the urgency. They had done all they could and went to bed early.

The next morning Sara sat up in bed, fully awake, thinking what type of job she could possibly get. She was fifty-one, had no work experience apart from ceramics and a limited amount of experience with some computer software. She shuddered at the thought of serving at McDonalds or a donut shop, but secretly acknowledged to herself it might come to that. She had no idea as to how to start looking for a job. She knew that finding out how to get started was the first order of business.

As she rounded out these thoughts, Martin called, asking breezily," You still OK for tomorrow night?" Sara had pushed the thought of the modeling session out of her mind. "Well are you? You'll be pleased to hear I have a paying client lined up. He's coming over to see you lovely ladies, and if he likes you there will be something in it for you both."

Sara took it as A Sign. "Of course, Martin. We wouldn't miss it for the world." Her words hid a wash of anxiety that passed though her being as she said it.

Shamina was hyper with excitement. Some of it brushed off on Sara. They opened some wine and toasted each other, "Here's to us. None like us." So they set out to the modeling session determined to set their difficulties aside and have a good time.

Ingrid had turned up at Martin's an hour earlier than the appointed time with a hairdresser, make-up girl and dresser in tow. Together they wheeled in three large trunks of clothes and cosmetic supplies. Ingrid, in spite of her German or Scandinavian name was no more than five feet tall, wore oversized black heavy-framed glasses, and wore an oversized sweater and a long skirt like armor. She hid a pretty face and a slim figure. What she lacked in size she made up for with an outsized personality. What she said was Law.

She took over the studio, arranged it, placed the lighting, set up and draped the chaise longue as a centerpiece and placed some scattered chairs around. Ingrid then organized the back room with wine and up-market nibbles on a side table, with the clothes set out in an order she had previous planned. Ingrid usually directed Derek's videos, so this was breeze for her.

Finally she set up three small discrete high definition video cameras around the studio. A control table was established with three screens and a computer in one corner near the back. Each camera could be panned and zoomed using Bluetooth from the control. She equipped Martin and herself with a headphone and microphone set. The set-up had taken fifty minutes, just as she planned. Sara and Shamina arrived spot on time ten minutes later. This pleased Ingrid.

Ingrid looked at the new models. She called Derek to alert him that it would be worthwhile coming over. She then introduced Sara and Shamina to the three ladies in the back room, with a list of the things they should do. This included a complete body shave, hair arrangement and full body make-up. Sara hated it but complied with everything asked of her. Shamina was in her element and loved ever moment of being pampered.

Ingrid took Sara and Shamina aside before they started. Ingrid was friendly, telling them to relax. What really caught their attention was the news they would be paid for the session, so they would be expected to act professionally. The rate was one thousand dollars, each. Ingrid explained that the client would be able to sell some of the material.

She went on further to explain there would be opportunities during the shoot to earn bonuses. They would be advised during the course of the shoot to take certain actions that they were at complete liberty to refuse. There would be three or four of these, but if either of them refused a bonus call there would be no more. Shamina's delight was evident as she bounced up and down when told each bonus action was worth five hundred dollars between the two of them. Sara was suspicious and a little anxious.

Ingrid carefully walked them through a release form, explaining the details; with the last clause confirming the document had been explained to them, etc. Sara hesitated. Then she thought of the two thousand dollars, at least, and given a final nudge to sign by Shamina who said, rather petulantly, "Oh. Come on mom. Sign it!" Sara signed her name impulsively, pushing any contrarian, stubborn thoughts out of her mind. Shamina signed without a second thought. Martin and the dresser witnessed their signatures. They were handed copies of the contract.

The women dressed identically in the first outfits; dark blue two-piece, fine wool business suit comprising a pencil skirt and low buttoned lapelled coat, complimented by dark sheer stockings incorporating faux seams down the back of the leg, red high heeled shoes, and a fine silk white blouse, all set off by sapphire coloured bling.

Although Martin was the photographer Sara noticed he kept touching his ear-bud as he seemed to be following instructions, presumably from Ingrid. Their first instruction directed them to walk catwalk style up and down. It took Sara a few passes before she was completely comfortable in the very high, for her, heels. Sara soon found her rhythm as the lens beckoned her. Shamina showed more energy and was coached to tone it down a bit. "Smooth, not bounce."

They did not notice Derek, in his black outfit, slip into the back of the studio.

After some passes arm in arm. Look up. Look down. Right. Left. They were placed back to back with wooden kitchen chairs in front of them. They were posed with one foot up on the chair. To achieve the gesture involved pushing the skirt right up their legs so their stocking tops and an inch of thigh were clearly visible. With thumb up and index finger pointing up at an angle they made their hands into mock revolvers, mimicking a Bond movie opening. They blew the smoke from the barrel of their fingers. First with their front leg up on the chair, and then with the leg furthest from the lens that showed the soft band of their inner thighs almost up to their panties.

Sara was instructed to sit on a chair facing the camera, legs crossed. Shamina was placed behind Sara with direction to put her arms around her, as if hugging her neck, placing her face in the nape of Sara's neck. Shamina was told to whisper in her mother's ear, whilst Sara continued to look at the lens.

Martin spoke up, "For your first bonus I would like you, Shamina, to nibble your mother's earlobe withdraw your left hand to rest it on your mother's shoulder and drop your right hand inside the jacket onto your mother's left nipple. Do you accept?"

Sara turned and looked at Shamina, whose eyes were bright with anticipation. Shamina whispered, "Five hundred dollars. Nothing is really showing." Sara knew she was beaten. There was no way she could deny her beautiful daughter's enthusiasm. In unison they said, "Agreed." After a bit of fidgeting to get comfortable they assumed the position.

Shamina again whispered, "Easiest five hundred ever," before starting to nibble her mother's soft fleshy lobe. What Sara had not anticipated was the sudden surge of arousal she received. The scent of Shamina, the erotic feel of lips on her ear and mostly the aggressive liberty that Shamina was taking with her nipple through the blouse and thin bra material were all having an affect. She was not being passive. The pinching and twisting may have been Shamina having some fun, but the results were a series of signals to Sara's vagina that were difficult to ignore. Sara wanted to grind her crossed thighs together but resisted the urge somehow.

Both Ingrid and Martin saw the impact on Sara. They let it run for several minutes, with urges of, "Keep it going. We've got to adjust the lighting." Derek also saw the impact and smiled to himself. He knew a winner when he saw it.

There was break to change clothes. The second outfits were, again identical, pale yellow, with a subtle pinstripe, summer dresses, with large white lapels. The dresses buttoned down the front with bold pale blue buttons arranged in a double-breasted style. It was no accident that the top buttons coincided with the nipples. The hems sat three inches about the knees. Although the materials were expensive the overall effect was retro and a little cheap. Lemon stockings replaced their dark ones. They were told to omit wearing bras. They kept their panties on. Sara would have liked to have replaced or even dispensed with her now damp ones. They had flat-soled shoes this time, to give them both a much younger look.

They were introduced to Derek wearing their new outfits. They were told he was the client. It was immediately understood he was bankrolling the shoot. Shamina started flirting with Derek. They were told that his first impressions were very favorable, and if they kept up the good work who knew where they may go together.

The second shoot started and followed a range of scenario's including dancing and twirling around that allowed the full skirts to show off their shapely legs. Eventually they arrived at the second bonus offering. This time Sara was to stand to one side of Shamina, facing her shoulder, and reach across her to slowly unbutton the dress, help her slip it off her shoulders as elegantly as possible, and then reach down and take Shamina's nearest nipple in her lips after first teasing it with her tongue.

Sara was ready to flat out refuse to expose her daughter this way. Shamina immediately turned to stand face to face, took her mothers shoulders in her hands shook her, and told her in no uncertain terms that if she didn't do it she would take the dress off herself and invite Derek to do the licking and sucking. "Get with the plot, mother! Now." Sara submitted, as she always did to her daughter's demands. Ingrid and Derek both noted Sara's response to Shamina's behaviour. The requested scenario unfolded slowly. Sara returned to her exhibitionist mode as she thought of the lens catching every drop of saliva and suck of her cheeks.

Martin was concentrating on the technical aspects of the camera work. Ingrid panned and zoomed the video cameras on the puffy and hard nipples Shamina was offering to her mother with Derek looking over her shoulder. What was familiar to Martin shocked and surprised Ingrid and Derek - the length of Sara's tongue. They both drew nearer the screens in front of them to be sure they had seen correctly. "That must be close to four inches long. Oh-my-God!" They were also in awe at the control and flicking motions Sara seemed to achieve. "Reel her in, Ingrid. We can use that tongue to make a fortune."

In the meantime, almost lost to the select audience, were the fact that the Shamina's arousal has risen to new heights within the environment of an audience and the fact that her mother was the author of her pleasure. Her knees gave out on her as she had a massive explosive orgasm from the nipple stimulation. Sara jolted out of her reverie as Shamina fell from her oral grasp. The adrenaline kicked in her motherly function as she fought to hold her only daughter safe.

After a longer rest with everyone taking refreshments together, they discussed the next shoot, lingerie. Sara had now consumed two quick glasses of wine and her objectivity was dulled. She had a sense that after what had gone before was just a prelude to what was about to happen. As she watched Shamina continue to flirt with both Martin and Derek simultaneously she resigned herself to following Shamina along whatever path she chose to go, and damn the consequences.