Introduction
This story was imagined from my love of photography and a simple comment from Pernickerty Jones that sometimes just watching Molly and her mother submitting together can be enough to make him cum.

A weekday evening in November

Justy sat on one side of Sam on the sofa, with her 16 year old daughter Molly on the other side.

They had both made an effort to dress up for this celebration meal, in green satin micro-dresses that barely reached their thighs, feeling their super smooth pussies unencumbered by underwear.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress, baby girl,” Sam slipped the pencil-thin shoulder strap down Molly’s arm, cupping her bare left breast.

Molly’s nipples crinkled as Sam kissed down her neck, then her arms, a warm feeling spreading between her thighs.

Justy pulled a beautifully bound photo album from her bag, the front cover merely labelled Molly Early Years.

“No mum – you can’t show him those”.

But Sam was already devouring the images of the innocent round-faced c***d, flat-chested, her red hair in a cute bob cut. She wore a bright yellow sun-dress, lifted slightly at the back displaying her matching panties and long bare legs.

“Very nice” commented Sam, sliding the hem of Molly’s green dress up her thighs to admire her current lack of underwear.

She was probably a year or so older in the next series of photos, kneeling naked in a paddling pool in the back garden.

Molly groaned, closing her eyes to the obscene views of the water streaming down her back and bare bottom.

“Look” said Justy, somewhat unnecessarily, “you can see her bum hole when she leans forward”.

“Mummy, no more, please. You can’t show him those photos of my gyna – I mean vagina”.

“Ah, how sweet – you called her your gyna”. Sam fingers stroked between her wet lower lips, then offered to Justy “suck this, baby”.

The next section of the album charted her development into puberty – pairs of topless photos taken at 6 monthly intervals shot from the front and behind. These were carefully annotated with Molly’s age, height, bra size and suspected virginity status.

In later years the last item was replaced by a count of the maximum male and female partners in each orgy and her favourite sex toy.

The same pale cut-down denim shorts appeared to get smaller in each photograph until they vanished completely between her buttocks, leaving Molly trying to cover her short red pubic bush by hand.

Another series showed her dancing naked vertically or horizontally with her best friend Rachael, bodies pressed tightly together, rock hard nipples and moist thighs intertwined.

Only Emma could have taken the photos of Molly riding her sybian – head back, eyes closed, mouth open, sweat dripping from her nipples – you could almost hear her moans and the deep thrumming sound of the vibrator machine between her legs.

“That’s beautiful baby girl – look at that puddle on the floor”.

“Oh I’m sorry Emma – I hope the squirt didn’t stain your carpet”, but in reality Molly had no memory of cumming that hard.

The next set of pictures was even more embarrassing – Molly experimenting in Suzy’s bedroom with her bondage gear.

It must have been on Valentine’s Day at Suzy’s retirement party – Molly had slipped away from the ongoing lesbian orgy downstairs to use the toilet and found the bedroom door open.

Her tits looked stunning in a black leather harness bra and heavy swinging nipple clamps.

Each picture from the hidden camera showed her trying to insert increasingly longer and fatter rubber anal plugs into her pretty bottom while masturbating hard.

You could just make out on the bed the photo of herself from many years ago, sitting on the naughty step, hands bound in a red ribbon.

“Sorry love, but I had to do that when you wouldn’t stop touching yourself. I thought you would wear out that pussy before you had a chance to experience proper intercourse. Now I wonder if that’s where you developed your love of bondage”.

“I’ve still got that red ribbon, mum. Will you tie my hands now?”

“Here, let me help you – this long end should wrap around your legs too”.

Molly was almost glad when Sam turned the page to the present day showing Molly and Justy taking turns to suck him off.

The question “How?” was severely muffled as both mouths slid up and down His erection, kissing whenever they met at the tip.

Laughing, Sam held their heads, then flipped back to a much earlier pre-pubescent section in the garden.

Molly was convinced she must be hallucinating the photo of her mother’s face buried in her backside while an erection came all over her face.

“I’m sure that never happened” she screeched “I was much too young”.

“Funny how memories can get distorted” remarked Sam “now get down on your knees and let’s make it happen right now”.

Reluctantly Molly clambered onto the circular glass-topped coffee table, raising her butt for her mother to devour.

Sam provided the sperm for Molly to swallow this time, then found a set of photos dated June 2019.

“That was our school trip to the Mother’s Milk HUCOW Farm. Look there’s Rachael and all our class on the bus with our hot teacher Ms Jones”.

Molly couldn’t remember if Sam had read Episode 113 so explained that Ms Jones had set up the farm as a safe place for teenage mothers to give away their unwanted babies and then deal with their excess milk. Motorcycle couriers were responsible for delivering the freshly pumped product to local bottle-feeding mothers and as a bonus got to ensure each teenager remained pregnant to keep the milk flowing.

“Wasn’t that her very pregnant daughter Lisa wobbling out to meet you – and that shows her strapped into the milking machine, riding that huge anal dildo”.

“Funny how this babe looks just like you – gorgeous red hair, big boobs full of milk, loving the suction pumping”.

“No that wasn’t me – look she’s got one of those number bracelets – it says 3 for her third pregnancy”.

Sam and Justy looked at Molly’s left wrist – the number 1 was glowing.

Justine glared at her Dom.

“Not me, love – we’ve always been very careful -oral or anal only for this gorgeous girl”.

“No – I can’t be yet – Rachael’s party was only last weekend. We were playing .. you know … spin the bottle and it kept stopping between me and Rach, so Mikey had both of us. I guess I caught the good stuff”.

“Now I come to think of it – your pussy did taste different this morning”.

Molly turned bright red: “Mother – now you’re embarrassing both of us – you make it sound like you eat me out every morning – honestly it’s only a weekend thing”.

“So” laughed Sam “that photograph could be you in a few months time, being serviced by the milking/fucking machine”.

Molly was quietly counting on her slippery fingers: “I think I can just get away with not missing too much college – the baby should be born in the summer break”.

The next batch of entries in the photo album were Molly’s future ultrasonic scans, at month 5, clearly showing a male foetus: “ah look – he’s sucking his thumb”.

Sam flipped over to the next page: “I’m no expert – but that’s an unusual view”.

Justy turned the book upside down – but it still didn’t look right.

Then Molly noticed the caption ‘Internal Ultrasound Scan’: “I did hear at the farm that the visiting obstetrician had previously trained as a vet. I guess she must have stuffed the probe up my arse for a better look around”.

The final section was just labelled ‘P’ and showed Molly from a very young c***d to the present day caught short, with panties around her ankles peeing in various places.

In the earliest example Molly was wearing a tiny blue dress, pulled up above her waist. She was squatting over a drain in the High Street, trying to hide her face from the camera, but exposing a succulent open pussy and wet bottom with her spare hand.

“Mother – that is disgusting – can’t a little girl have any privacy?”

Subsequent photos were in parks, the back garden, a clearing in a wood and many on beaches.

Molly had assumed it was perfectly natural to squirt after vigorous masturbation in the hot sun, especially when playing with her best friend Rachael.

“It’s funny, baby girl – you never liked going in the sea like other c***dren – we always had to find somewhere quiet on the beach for you to make a puddle in the sand.”

The last photo showed Molly straddling Sam, squirting on His chest as muscular fingers explored both her openings.

“OK babe – let’s do it – but not a word of this to anyone – can’t have my ladies thinking I’ve gone soft”.

“No Master” replied mother and daughter in unison, smirking.

Some time later Justy put down her phone, delighted she had captured the crucial moment on the video clip posted to the submissives WhatsApp group.

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