Kate never knew until after we became lovers that I had wanted her incestuously for years but didn't dare do anything about it. That's why she never saw me nude until I posed for her at the age of 65. I feared what would happen, that once naked I would be unable to exercise self-control. When she was little, it wasn't a problem for me to undress her and pamper her. I used to bath her, soaping her lovely little body and touching her everywhere without her or my husband suspecting anything. Sometimes I feared that these very intimate caresses were too insistent and prolonged not to be noticed. She loved it when my soapy fingers traced the cleavage of her bottom and located her little anus. When she was a teenager, this was no longer possible although I was still able to see her naked. I watched without daring to touch as her lovely little breasts budded and became larger and a down of dark hair bushed between her legs. How I longed at those moments to reach out for her body and take her hand and guide it meaningfully between my thighs. I always helped her to choose her clothes and underwear, sharing the changing cubicle with her at our favourite shops. Until she married and left home, Kate was never shy about being nude in my presence. Throughout all of this, I was masturbating for her secretly. I would retrieve her used panties from the washing basket and wear them when I went out or picked her up from school. When I was alone in the house, I liked to masturbate in Kate's bed after laying down a towel in case of telltale accidents. I took risks. If the desire became unbearable at night while I lay awake, I would leave my sleeping husband and slip downstairs to wank myself on the sofa until my orgasm washed away the urgency of my feelings. At these moments, I was in a world of pleasure of my own. Had Kate or my husband surprised me, I would never have heard them approach. Did I feel guilty ? Of course I did sometimes, but never for long and it didn't stop me. I had never had or wanted to have sex with another female of any age before Kate and I made love after the photo shoot. Incest, even mother and daughter incest, is something different from lesbianism. Although my desire and my need were sexual and were expressed through masturbation, it seemed to me to be an intense kind of maternalism. I wanted Kate and only Kate because she was my daughter. Once she left home and had children, things eased. I felt freer to masturbate for her without pangs of conscience. I did feel a kind of jealousy of the women who posed nude for her but it didn't occur to me that she would ask me to model. When she did, I had an intuition about what lay subconsciously behind it which accounts for my initial hesitation. Could I pose without my feelings becoming clear? On the other hand, if I was right about Kate's reason for wanting me to be naked in front of her, there would be no danger. I decided to expose myself as openly and explicitly as possible to my beautiful darling daughter and to be guided by her reaction. Undressing for her was an unbelievable pleasure - I shed years of frustration along with my clothes - and as soon as she told me I was beautiful, I knew that everything would be all right. I loved her seeing me fully nude, moving for her and obeying her posing requests as images of every inch of my nude body were absorbed by the camera. When the time came to lie on the cushion and show her my vagina which we both knew had to happen, both of us were in a state of sexual delirium. I hadn't actually planned to let her see my anus. It was spontaneous, an irresistible desire not to hide any part of my nudity, however intimate and private, from her gaze. So, that's my side of the story and now you know both. Our lovemaking then and since has been all that I imagined it might during the decades of frustration. Kate and I are finally as one – she is me and I am her. When we shower together now, my fingers can seek her anus with complete freedom - and her's mine.