"Aw mom. All us girls do it.”

“He's into this mother and daughter thing. I said I would talk to you. He wants us to do stuff to each other while he takes a video of us.”

"I saw the photograph. The one of you on Dillon's snowplow," Angie pulled out a chair at the breakfast table.

Her daughter's eyes lifted, brimming with surprise. "He showed you that?"

Angie envisioned the photograph again. She had found it in Dillon's room: Darcy was poised on the plow of his truck with heaps of snow to the left and right. She sat sideways, one leg cocked, her foot perched on top of the blade. A wrist draped over her knee. A sheen of expectancy lifted her eyes and there was the lusty look of anticipation on her lips. Darcy wore her wooly ski hat with matching mittens and her feet were clad in snow boots. Nothing more. Darcy had posed, naked.

"Not really. He just left the photograph where he knew I would see it," she answered her daughter, pouring the coffee.

"But why, why would he do that?" Darcy responded, concern etching her voice.

"He's just toying with me. He wants me to pose like that as well."

"Yeah, I know. Cool!" Darcy was eyeing her mother's toast with circumspect. Or was that envy?

“Considering he's suppose to be in a relationship with me, its a little discerning to find out that he has talked you out of your clothes. Did he touch you?”

“Mom!”

“Well it seems like a reasonable question. You're a pretty girl. You were naked.”

“He didn't touch me. Ok? I mean I could tell he wanted too. But he didn't.”

Angie exhaled and studied her coffee.

“So you going to do it?”

“Do what?” Angie said blandly.

"Dillon told me that he wanted to photograph you," Darcy continued, "wanted me to talk to you about it. Try to convince you."

"And what did you say?"

Darcy hesitated, thought about her answer. "You're hot, for your age, mom. You know what MILF stands for?"

"Uh-uh."

"Never mind, then. Anyway I said I would see what I could do. I mean, you've got pretty legs and your ass is still tight. You're a good looking woman, mom. It's ok to show it off a little." Darcy let out a breath. “You know he wants us to pose together.”

“Together? I don't think...”

“He's into this mother and daughter thing. I said I would talk to you. He wants us to do stuff to each other while he takes a video of us.”

“A video.”

“For his web site.”

“Oh, better and better. And how do you feel about that?”

“I'd do anything to please him.”

It was the first indication that Darcy had feelings for the man her mother was sleeping with. “Oh baby…” Angie reached across the table and rested a hand on her daughter's arm. “That sounds so desperate. He did touch you, didn't he?”

“A little. Just about the breasts. But that doesn't really count. Like, I don't have tits. Not like yours.

“You'd look funny with my breasts.”

“Listen. You wouldn't have to do anything. Ok? I'll go down. You just have to sit there. He'll be happy with that.” Darcy looked across at her mother, desperation in her eyes.

“Go down? Does that mean what I think?” Darcy humped a shoulder. “You've got quite a vocabulary for an eighteen-year-old.” The women went silent for a moment, each pondering the destination of the conversation.

“What did you think about the photo he took of me?" Darcy finally asked.

Angie looked down at her toast and wondered how many extra calories a teaspoon of strawberry jam would constitute. "You look like a calendar girl for farm machinery!" She reached across for the jam pot. Angie deflated a little. "Sorry," she apologized, hesitated. "I was a little shocked; mostly disappointed."

"Aw mom. We all do it; us girls, I mean."

"I beg your pardon? You all do what?"

"Do photographs like that! Pose for them, I mean. It's fun. And it drives the guys crazy!"

To hell with the strawberry jam! Angie looked across at her daughter. "You let boys take photographs of you? Like that? With nothing on?"

"Not the boys," Darcy hurried to correct her mother. "I photographed Sue and then she photographed me. Then I posted the pictures on my face-page so the guys can check me out. The e-mails I get are hilarious! It's fun! You'll see!"

"I'll see? You're assuming a lot.”

Darcy humped her shoulders. "Maybe I'll make myself a slice of toast.”

"No need. You can have mine!"