Linda handed me the pair of purple knickers she had just taken off, there was a wet patch in the gusset.“You need to stop thinking about this aftern...ons shoot, and concentrate on this mornings,” I said. Linda was my Mum. My Mum was a model, called Linda. I now worked for her, as her assistant, which was a secret, only the photographer I used to work for and Mum had done her first modelling assignment for knew. And here I was watching her strip, and holding her wet panties. She was gorgeous, I. She imagined meeting him at the airport, without any knickers on, wearing the cap. He would know as soon as he saw her sitting there and made eye contact that she had done as he asked. Sharing this secret, having this silent look of understanding in a busy airport, and both sharing at that moment the thoughts of what she had already done today. She imagined how naked she would feel aware of her bare hot pussy beneath her skirt, and its growing dampness. Her braless breasts pushing her nipples. More

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