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I had been putting it off for a very, very long time. In fact, I had probably been putting it off a lot longer than I should have. I had waited past the point where anything rational could be done about the situation. But when I thought about it, we were screwed the moment that my mother got laid off. We were going to lose absolutely everything.

I was sitting in the kitchen of my mother, Clara’s, small home. It was more a cottage than a home. It had a kitchen, a small bathroom with a shower, and then upstairs it had two small bedrooms. She had bought it years ago, but the mortgage was still almost completely unpaid. That was part of the problem I came to talk to her about. She was sitting across from me now, stirring her tea with a very concerned look on her face. I had told her that I had something big to tell her.

“What is it Jayne?” she said, reaching across the table to pat my hand. She looked very young when she was concerned, but I guess that true. Despite the fact that I was 22 years old, my mother was only 40. She was a little shorter than me, being only 5’4. She had long, beautiful blonde hair, thick pink lips, and dazzling blue eyes. She also had a young shapely body (likely because she had me and my brother so young). She was about 110lbs. and had large, C-cup breasts. Her hips were shapely and her legs were delicately tapered.

People always told me that I looked a lot like my mother, but there were a couple of differences. I am 5’6 and about 100lbs. I have smaller, A-Cup breasts, and I keep my blonde hair back in a ponytail. But other than that we are very similar in appearance and in outlook. In fact, we are so alike that despite all of my mother’s best efforts, I had a child out of wedlock with a deadbeat who skipped town just like she had. My baby’s father didn’t even stick around the 5 years my father did. He was gone before my baby was born. That is my roundabout way of saying that I have a 4 year old son, Toddy.

“Well…” I said. Now that I had come to the point where I had to speak, I found that there weren’t any words to make. I felt like I had let down my family. I felt like my mother, my 16 year old brother, my little boy, they were all relying on me and I failed.

“Honey,” my mother said, smiling now, “What do I always tell you about bad news? Why do you always twist into pretzels about this? Just say the bad news and we will figure it out,” suddenly she seemed to realize something, “Oh god, you aren’t pregnant again!”

“Mom! No!” I said. I hadn’t even had sex since my son was born (not that men don’t ask me out constantly, but I just don’t have the time). I decided not to try to beat around the bush, but to just throw it all out at once, “Listen mom, I really appreciate the fact that you let me take over the family’s finances after my semester in college. But I think I screwed everything up. When I lost my job at the restaurant, everything was still okay. But then I lost my other job at the pet store and things got tight. Then you lost your job, and there was no more money coming in. And I stretched everything as far as I could but we are broke. I paid off this month’s bills, except for cable. But I did that by pawning stuff. Next month we aren’t going to have enough for your mortgage, my rent, either of the cars, or Toddy’s preschool. I don’t even know what to pay first, at least two things won’t get paid. The whole thing collapsed and it is all my fault.”

By the time I was finished with my little speech I was in tears. When the last word dribbled out of my mouth, I collapsed on the table, covering my face with my arm. I didn’t want to come out of that little cocoon again. Partially because I knew I had failed and partially because I knew what was coming next. Even before I looked up I could feel my arms around me, from behind. She was holding me close and whispering into my ear.

“It isn’t your fault,” over and over again. I felt so guilty that I wanted her to blame me, but I knew that she wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t. She was my mom.

“I am so sorry,” I said, looking up now, but she was smiling down at me.

“You lost your jobs, but it was because the places closed. You weren’t lazy, you weren’t bad. I lost my job for the same reason. We didn’t do anything wrong and I don’t want you to feel bad about it. We are okay,” I could see there were tears in her eyes as well. And for a while, we just sat there, holding each other and trying not to think about the way the world was crumbling around us. But after a few minutes, our eyes were dry and my mother was back across the table, sipping her tea and looking at me with love that was undiminished.

“Thanks mom,” I said and she just sipped her tea, pretending she didn’t hear. Because she didn’t want to be thanked for what she felt she had to do.

“So what are we going to do sweetie?” she asked now. We had both been applying to job all over the place, but nothing was working. We were out of options; no one was hiring a 40 year old woman with a GED or a 22 year old woman with a gaziantep minyon escort semester at community college. We were stuck.

“I don’t know mom,” I said.

“Well you can’t let Toddy know anything is wrong, I am going to keep this from your brother as well,” she said.

“Don’t you think that Greg is old enough to understand this stuff?” I said, feeling like I would have been offended at that age if something that big had been kept for me. My mother seemed to read my mind.

“Your brother isn’t as mature now as you were when you were 10. He won’t understand. If we can fix this now, I am going to do it without him knowing there was ever a problem,” she said. When my mother spoke, all questions stopped. You just had to do it.

“Okay,” I said, and then I realized I had to tell her the other bad news. I decided not to string it out anymore, I just had to say it, “Mom, I have to tell you something I am not proud of.”

“I think I know what it is,” she said, sounding a little disappointed, but understanding.

“I went out to the titty bar the other day to see if I could get a job. They were more than willing to give me a job, but they told me what they expected me to make and it just doesn’t make sense. I know, I am sorry,” I said all in one breath. The truth was, I couldn’t imagine those eyes on my body, it would have had to pay a lot for me to do it.

“It’s okay. We just have to think of something,” she said, just ignoring the situation. Then we sat in her kitchen, that wouldn’t be her kitchen for long. And we were silent. Because there were no ideas left.

* * * * *

Three weeks past and the bills were going to be due in a week. I was starting to realize just how precarious the situation was. I was frantically searching the internet every day at the library, trying to figure something out to fix our money woes. I knew my mom was doing everything in her power. We didn’t have any other family to fall back on. And as each lead came up dry, I became more desperate.

I was a Tuesday when I finally went to my mother’s house with my last unfinished lead. It was a job that I had heard about on one of my first days of searching. I had just rejected it out of hand. But now there was literally nothing left. The next step was to buy lottery tickets. That is what I was planning on doing. But I just wanted to go tell my mom about this job. Just so she could be as disgusted as I was and tell me that it wasn’t worth it.

This time, we were sitting in her living room. She was on the couch that faced a blank and useless television and I was on her favorite chair. She looked nervous and I knew she didn’t look forward to my brother getting home from school because it meant that she had to pretend like nothing was wrong. That activity is actually very draining.

“Yeah, same here,” my mother said as I listed all of the opportunities that had failed, “I guess we are stuck. I have been looking for more affordable long-term hotels. We can stay a couple of months there before the little bit of equity I will get from selling the house runs out.” She said. My mom had never looked so sad in her life. She was so proud of her home. For a moment I thought I couldn’t even say the one job I had found that we could definitely do, but I had to say it when I looked at her face. I just had to make sure that she knew.

“Mom,” I said, and my voice sounded strange.


“I did find one job that we can do,” I said and she gave me a relieved smile.

“What is it? Can we both do it or is it a young woman’s job?” she asked.

“We would work together,” I said, but I had to stop hinting, it was making it worse, “I was looking for jobs on the internet for jobs. I was curious because there are lots of women who do like, webcam shows where they do stripteases and I thought maybe I could do that. It is the same as stripping and everything, and then no one would be looking at me, like where I could see them.”

“Uh-huh…” My mother said, her brow furrowing.

“But they don’t make very much money. It seems like amateur pornographers don’t make any real money. But while I was on the sites looking at that, I found something that pays a lot of money that isn’t amateur stripteases,” I said. My heart was racing now, I felt lightheaded. It was hard to say this.

“Well what is it?” she said, not liking how I was drawing this out.

“There is an underground market for pornographic movies where… a woman and her mother have sex. They need to be actual mothers and daughters; they want you to show your license and birth certificates to the camera first. There can be other people, but the mothers and daughters have to be attractive and they have to…interact.”

“Oh my God, that is terrible!” my mother said, her face registered abject horror and I felt relief.

“I know, I just felt like I couldn’t keep that in. It paid so well, I had to tell you just so that you could say no too,” I said nizip escort and she nodded solemnly.

“How much did it pay?” she asked after a very long pause. I forgot to tell her.

“Well, they say if you are good you can keep making movies for as long as you want and you can negotiate more prices. But the first time they pay you $10,000. It is like $2000 less if you can’t speak English,” I explained. She nodded solemnly. At that moment, my brother came home, he gave me a quick wave and headed to his room. That meant I had to go and pick up my son at pre-school. My mother was still just staring at the television when I left.

I came back when I had my son and the four of us ate a family dinner like we did most nights. Little Toddy was captivating, as usual, and made all of us laugh. My brother talked about school and girls and everything else in his life and we let our worries slip away. I didn’t think about the fact that this wouldn’t be our mother’s house in a week for nearly ten minutes one time.

After dinner my brother went up to his room to call one of his girlfriends and my brother fell asleep on the couch in the living room. My mother and I were sitting at the kitchen table again, drinking coffee. It was the first we had been alone since my brother got home from school.

“How is Toddy’s school going?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, smiling with pride. My boy was so smart, “His teacher said he is above age-level in most of the criteria they evaluated.” Toddy’s grandmother beamed as well.

“Greg told me that his soccer coach said he can get a college scholarship if he keeps his grades up,” my mother said, seemingly to herself.

“He has always been so athletic,” I replied. We sat in silence for a long while. My mother stirred her coffee but didn’t drink it. We both knew what thoughts were running through our heads.

“If we move into a hotel and take your little man out of preschool he will fall behind,” she said suddenly and I could feel tears welling in my eyes as my fears were put into words for the first time. My little Toddy had to have things better than me and better than his grandmother.

“I know.”

“Your brother, he is prideful,” my mother said slowly, “If we move into a hotel he will be humiliated. He will withdraw from school and friends and he will let his grades drop,” she said. I knew that she was right there as well.

“God this is Hell,” I said, “I just wish that there was something we could do.”

“There is,” my mother said. Now her voice was barely above a whisper. She looked deep into my eyes and her fierce love pierced deep into my heart. Her passion for her family was a physical thing, I could feel it leaning into me and demanding something from me, “It is a mother’s job to make sacrifices for her children when she has to,” my mother told me, “We have to make sacrifices for our sons, and for ourselves. I want you to call up those… people we talked about before. Have then send out a camera,” she said. As usual, my mother’s word accepted to contradiction. I felt a bizarre feeling of relief. Then our minds completely closed out the idea, or so we pretended.


“The camera will be here tomorrow or the next day,” I said to my mother the next day when our sons were at school. We were standing outside in her garden.

“Good,” she said, but she didn’t sound like she thought it was good.

“They said a check for half the amount will come with it, so we will be good for next month,” I said and she just nodded this time, “They had some other stuff they need us to do. I am supposed to tell you about it.” My mother bent over and pulled out a weed. I couldn’t help but check her out. I mean, I didn’t want to. But it was sort of my job now. She was a beautiful woman. But could I…have sex with her? I didn’t think so. We didn’t want to think of what would happen if we failed.

“What is it?” she asked.

“We are supposed to shave out legs and armpits the morning we shoot. We are supposed to…trim anything else the way we like. They said we should go easy on the make-up because they want us to look natural,” I explained. My mother nodded again.

“Let’s go inside, I don’t think it is appropriate to talk about this out here,” she said. I blushed and she wiped the dirt from her hands and we went inside, “what else?” she asked when the door closed behind us.

“They said that we have to do…certain things. I will just let you know what they are when we are going, I don’t want to say them to you. They said we should be creative and that the people who watch this like…kinky stuff,” I felt like I was going to vomit when I said that but she just washed her hands in the sink and acted like I was describing a recipe for meatloaf.

“Anything else,” she asked.

“No,” I said, “Oh wait, yes. They gave me a list of questions that we have to answer to the camera before we start. They said we don’t have to try to be sexy, just answer the questions honestly nurdağı escort and the people would think it was…good.”

“Okay,” my mother said and she took a beer from her fridge. She offered me one as well and I took it and drank. I didn’t drink much, but I needed to calm my nerves. I had never felt so anxious in my life. We finished out beers in silence.

“I have seen you naked since you were a little girl,” my mother said and I nodded. I couldn’t even remember what she looked like naked. I used to shower with her when I was a very little girl, but that had been a very long time ago. I could very vaguely remember her breast when my brother was still being breastfed a decade and a half ago. I wondered what she looked like.

“Maybe we should go up to my room…” she said, looking out the window, not wanting to look me in the eyes. I felt myself blush, “Not to do…the actual thing without the camera. Just to look at each other so we aren’t surprised,” she said hastily. She got up and started to walk upstairs. I followed behind her, looking at the gently sway of her hips as I moved up the stairs behind her. She walked into her room and I followed behind her and closed the door. I locked it as well.

“We will film here tomorrow or when the camera comes,” my mother said. Even as she was speaking she was walking around the room, closing the blinds and the curtains on her windows so that it was dark and secluded. I turned on the small bedside lamp so that we wouldn’t be fumbling in the dark. She walked back around the bed and stood in front of me. We just looked at each other for a long time. She smiled wanly.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said. She reached across the distance that separated us and patted my hand the way she had all those weeks ago.

“We are saving our family. We have to stop thinking like we are waiting for our own executions. Let’s just pretend what we are doing is normal. Let’s stop acting nervous before we speak. Let’s stop being embarrassed. Why don’t we just sort of own it now,” she said, trying to convince herself as well as me. But she didn’t say anymore. She acted. She crossed her arms around the bottom of her shirt and quickly lifted it up over her head and threw it on the floor. Her blonde hair was tousled and she looked sexy even. Her breasts were large and her cleavage well defined her shiny back bra. She was unzipping her pants while I was unbuttoning my own top. Soon my pink bra was exposed as well, my tiny breasts standing out proudly from my chest. My mother’s jeans were in a pile on the floor and she kicked them away. Her panties were black as well, they were boy shorts and I could see the gentle swell of her firm buttocks as she twisted to brush away the jeans.

I quickly dropped my cotton shorts, revealing my own underwear. I was wearing just a basic red pair of cotton underwear. They were new and they looked good on me. I looked down at my flat tummy, thin legs, and tiny feet and knew that I was sexy. But now I looked back up at my mother. Her legs were gorgeous, I could tell she was still working out. Her tummy was very flat and even a little bit defined. She had a very sexy hourglass shape that women half her age would be jealous of. If we could go through with this, we could make a lot of money.

No we were standing in what could be out bathing suits. There was nothing particularly scandalous about where we were now. The next step was what really matters. We both knew it and began to act at the same time. My mother’s bra clasped in the front and she quickly started to unhooked it. I reached around my back and did the same. We seemed to do a silent countdown and then we allowed the bras to slide off of our bodies. Both of our eyes moved to each other’s chests. My mother’s breasts were amazing. They were still quite firm despite the fact that she was 40, they did droop much at all as the bra was removed. They were perky even. Her areola’s looked to be about the size of quarters and a light red in color and her nipples were about half an inch long. She looked perfectly proportioned and I found that I really did find her to be a sexy woman. It was a strange feeling. I had never had any lesbian thoughts before, especially not any concerning my mother. But I did respond to her breasts. I saw her looking at me as well, and I looked down at my own breasts. Without the bra to push them up they looked very small, just two little mounds. But they are nicely proportioned, very perky, and I have very nice nipples. They are about the same size as my mothers, they are a lighter, pink color, and my nipples are about three quarters of an inch long when they are hard. She smiled at me as I looked back up, she must’ve approved as well.

“One last thing,” she said. She hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her panties, bent over and started to slide them down. I did the same, looking at my own vagina and not her’s.

“Oh honey, that is cute,” she said and I looked up blushing. I looked to her eyes and she was pointed at my pussy, “You shaved your hair into a cute little heart,” she said. I looked down again. I actually waxed it that way. I was completely bare except for a little patch right above my clit that was a heart, about an inch and a half tall by two inches wide. I blushed even harder. But I kept my legs together. I couldn’t bear for my mother to see my labia…until she had to.

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