Things Sure Are Different, In My Day Girls Were Girls

After the service, where I was assigned to the press corp as a photographer, I though I could earn a living as a photographer. Next door to me, and my studio, lived a nice looking fourteen year old girl. Her mother worked at the hospital and was off at eight at night. When I worked in the studio she came over to 'help'.

It wasn't long before she was my model, and little by little her clothes came off. Legs tight together in a crouch, her arms covering her breasts. On her knees, her muff between her legs, her head thrown back, her hands in the air. Pulling up panties, throwing off her bra. Lots of nudes, near nudes, hinted nudes, she loved to pose for me.

Her mother told me NOT to fuck her, she was still young. If I got that horny, to fuck her instead. But otherwise she liked most of the 'work' her daughter posed for. I gave her every photo which she kept in a drawer. Many many times she imitated her daughter's poses before, during or after we had sex. She never let me use a camera on her, she was self conscious. Her daughter was a different story, she was a beautiful model, and she loved posing for me.

On one occasion, a Sunday morning, she came to sit on the bed, she had panties on but was otherwise topless and her hair uncombed. Her mother standing naked on the side of the bed, my bare ass facing the window,. The war widow and self appointed morals police took the picture with her instamatic and called the police.

Perversions of minors they called it, having sex with a mother and daughter. The search warrant of my studio found the negatives, the originals they found in her mother's drawer. The Judge, a grandmother asked the girl to testify, yes she posed for the pictures, she loved them, no I never had sex with her she was a virgin. The mother said she gad her permission, and yes I had sex with her instead of her daughter. No, she didn't have a problem with her daughter's pictures.

I told the judge the Army trained me as a photographer, and I had been present at horrific human destruction. Photographing a beautiful young girl was my therapy. The judge ruled that nudity in the home wasn't a neighbor's concern, and how a woman brought up her daughter was protected behavior. And from what she had seen, a girl alone after school was far worse off than in the car of the mother's boyfriend. So, the case was thrown out of court, but not before sentencing the mother to get a set of curtains.

That woman was hungry, she needed the attention of a man, that girl a natural exhibitionist, she loved nothing better than a boy looking up her skirt. She grew up to be a second grade teacher, and her mother never married made herself my wife. In time photography was my hobby, I became a certified welder. And that my friends is how it was with the make love generation.