The Final Picture

For the next photo, Mark went behind your Mom hugging her from the back while explaining:

— The purpose of this photo is to show the meaning of intimacy and the trust on our partner to protect us. With your permission... — He said as he put his one hand in front of her eyes... While grabbing her large breasts with the other, his fingers sinking deep into the soft and squishy surface.

She loved the warmth and strenght of Mark’s fingers grabbing her chest, pulling her against his body… But she realized that Mark, whether willingly or not, didn’t press his waist against her buttocks.
Subtly yet intentionally, your Mom pushed towards him with her lower back, being curious about what was behind her. She felt it hanging as she made contact with it with her cheeks. She didn't push further. She just wanted to feel it was there, behind her.

Once the photo was taken, Mark seemed to have some troubles thinking about the next scene. You wondered why. Then, your Mom spoke:

— That photo gave an idea! I loved the meaning of it, but why not the other way around? Why has the man always have to protect the woman? For example, I haven't had a man to protect me since Anon's dad left. Some women can protect others to. Specially mothers…

Mark nodded and let her do what she had in mind. Like he did previously, she went behind him and embraced him.

— With your permission... — She whispered into his ear while softly putting her hand on top of his crotch, trying to cover it. She grazed it, but quickly broke the contact up, her hand simply hovering over his manhood.

An attractive, naked woman just rubbing the penis of a young man could only have one kind of reaction, even if it wasn't neither his nor her intention. Even if it was for an art project. Even if this whole thing was Mark's idea…

Mark felt the bloodflow intensifying towards the covered area. The erection finally reached your Mom's hand as it went up, even though he was applying every trick on the book not to. Mark's body just refused not to get hard.

He turned towards your Mom, hiding the still growing cock from you between him and her. Mom looked at him, wondering what the abrupt reaction was about. Mark looked down, signaling with his eyes what the problem was. Your Mom looked down, gasping out loud as she found out what the problem was.

Your Mom started looking for a solution. In her head it was clear what worked best in a situation like this. You saw her head emerge behind Mark's wide frame:

— Sweetie... We... We have like, a problem here... We gotta do something... Could you please wait outside until... Until we're done with it...? I'll let you know...

You nodded. The bad feeling in your stomach screamed for you to say something, but nothing crossed your mind. You felt like you didn't belonged there, like you weren't welcomed there anymore. Like a castaway. Not leaving the room wasn't an option anymore.

You walked towards the door, opened it and crossed the treshold, which meant that Mark and your Mom were now alone. This thought made the already bad enough feeling get even worse.