Show Moms Ch. 03

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Kenny recruits another contestant for the National MILF Show.
3.2k words
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Part 3 of the 6 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 02/14/2007
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MarshAlien
MarshAlien
2,689 Followers

I was told afterwards by more than one person that Robin's striptease was the highlight, not just of her division, but of the entire first day. Of course, maybe they were tired of seeing women wearing bikinis. They'd certainly seen enough by the time the day ended. At the state competitions, women had to strip in bikinis (actually the rules called for swimsuits, but I've never yet seen a one-piece at one of these shows). The local and intercounty contests also had mandatory outfits: evening gowns.

At the national level, though, the only rule was that you had to wear the same outfit for both days of the competition. And unlike the state and local shows, where up to thirty or forty women could be stripping at the same time, each woman at the national show would have the spotlight to herself, at least in Robins' division. So why you'd want to look like everyone else — almost all the contestants last year had worn bikinis, too — was beyond me.

Robin and I had actually spent a good deal of time discussing what she was going to wear. Once she finally bought into the idea, she decided that what she really needed to do was create, or more likely re-create, fantasies for the young men judging the competition. The "pool fantasy" — he's the lifeguard, she's the mommy come for a swim with her kids — had been done to death. And for the 18-and-over division, it just wasn't all that successful anyway. None of those women had ever finished higher than fourth place at the National Show.

So Robin decided she wanted to go for what she called the "garden fantasy." Pretty standard stuff — older woman gardening outside the house, lawn boy puttering around with the weedeater or the lawnmower or whatever. But no one had done it last year, or the year before as far as I could tell, and Robin figured it might be a good way to get her a little extra bit of attention. So she marched into the arena in a somewhat-too-small white men's shirt whose top buttons were torn off and whose shirt-tails were tied just under her chest, the shortest pair of khaki shorts we could find, and bright white sneakers. We'd even gone the extra distance by putting a couple of small smudges of dirt on her face, her chest, and legs, and by spraying her with a light oil that gave her the look of someone actually doing manual labor. That, incidentally, is why the grooming had taken so long; you didn't think I'd actually done her hair, did you?

The other nine women in Robin's division were, naturally, wearing bikinis. And, oddly, high heels. Which was part of the pool fantasy only in porno-land. There was no doubt that Robin stood out. And she sold it, too. The handler can't dress his part; he has to wear a white smock. As Robin said, he's simply a stand-in for the judges. So it's completely up to the contestant. When it was Robin's turn, she turned away from me and leaned on the show stand as the music started. She waited a few beats, and then turned to me with a look of surprise. That was quickly replaced with a feral expression as she raked me up and down with her eyes. And then she started.

The shirt came off first, the few remaining buttons flying as she grabbed the shirttails and just yanked the shirt open and over her shoulders. The front-closing bra underneath it went next. Robin's tits weren't huge, but on the screen above the arena that most people were watching, popping open that bra had the effect of letting them explode into view.

I still have no idea how she got rid of her sneakers, but by the time she tore open the button-fly on her shorts, and kicked them over my head, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black mesh panties, the place was going nuts. I thought the hardest part would come next, maintaining her energy while she worked the panties down her legs. But Robin had a surprise for me. She'd cut most of the threads along the seams of the panties, so she just stood there for two beats, her hands on her hips with her thumbs hooked inside, and then straightened her arms. The little piece of fabric fluttered to the ground.

The other women had just stood there after they had finished stripping and waited for the applause to die down. Robin stepped forward, ripped open my smock, and dropped to her knees for the blowjob. Well within the rules, and the applause never did die down. Wow.

I suddenly realized that if I didn't concentrate, I'd be shooting a load down her throat in a matter of minutes. And at this level, that would be disaster. Because as soon as the blowjob ended, we were supposed to go into our compulsory routine. That wasn't going to be very successful if I was soft. So while this woman was busy making love to my dick, I started thinking about how far we'd come — actually, how far Robin had come — to get there.

* * *

If I hadn't still been half asleep, I doubt that I would have let Wally's mom in the house quite that readily. After all, she wasn't willing to let me in hers. What right did she have to ask that she be let into mine?

We were already beyond that point, though. She was sitting on the couch in the living room. I stumbled in after her and sat across from her as we each waited for the other to start talking. I finally raised my eyebrows. You first, lady.

"How have you been, Kenneth?" she asked nervously.

"Kenny," I said. "I prefer Kenny."

She swallowed.

"Kenny, then. How have you been?"

"I've been fine, Mrs. Kennedy. Thank you for asking. And you?"

"Fine, thank you, Kenneth, I mean Kenny. I've missed seeing you and Wally together."

"Well, it wasn't actually my choice," I said, growing angrier.

"Mine either, Kenny," she said, finally looking directly at me.

I just sat there.

"Kenny, when Allen — when Mr. Kennedy overheard Terry's roommate talking about your, um —"

"Performance?"

She reddened.

"Anyway, he wanted to forbid Wally from even seeing you," she continued. "I fought for you, Kenny, for your friendship."

"Thank you for that," I said coolly. Fought for me? What was he going to do, send Wally to military school? Put little shock collars on us to make sure we stayed fifty feet apart?

She sat there wringing her hands together.

"Can I get you some coffee, Mrs. Kennedy?"

She looked up gratefully.

"Thank you, Kenny."

My mom had left some coffee in a carafe, so I prepared a little tray and brought it out for us to share. She apparently had taken the time to compose herself.

"Kenny," she finally blurted out after we'd each sipped at the coffee, "I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to be blunt. And I would ask you, please, not to tell Wally. I've kept this from both kids. If you say no, please just forget I was here."

She took a deep breath, and plunged in.

"Allen has invested all of our money in some kind of computer business, and then borrowed more money on top of that to invest. He insists it will pay off, and I have to believe him. He's my husband. But it hasn't yet. And Allen's still making money at his regular job to pay for the house and all, but with the new monthly payments on what he's borrowed and our other debt, we... we..."

I fetched a box of tissues from the bathroom and waited until she was ready again. She sniffed and blew her nose and finally looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

"Terry's and Wally's tuition payments for the fall semester are due next week."

Yeah, no kidding. Mine had been, too, at least the part not covered by financial aid. I still didn't see how this had anything to do with me, so I just nodded.

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you, Kenny?"

"Make what easy?" I finally said. "I still have no idea why you're here!"

"I need to borrow twenty thousand dollars," she said meekly.

I'm sure my jaw dropped. The idea of an adult needing to borrow money from a — well, from a kid, was beyond my comprehension.

"Wally said that you made a fair amount of money on your, um, show thing."

"The MILF Show," I said.

"The MILF Show," she acknowledged.

"And he told me that you had a scholarship to college," she continued.

"That's true," I agreed. "For the most part. So let me get this straight. You want me to lend you twenty thousand dollars, basically because you and your husband are so tapped out that you can't get anyone else to loan you the money, is that right?"

"Yes," she finally said, looking everywhere but at me. "I just can't tell Terry and Wally that they can't go to school next year. Wally worked so hard to get into Northwestern, and Terry is actually doing well at school for the first time in her life. I never got to go to college, Kenny, and it's the one dream I always had for my kids."

"Seriously?" I'd gotten caught up in her story. "I always thought you were pretty smart."

"I am," she gave me a wan smile. "Or I was. I was actually valedictorian of my high school. But then I got pregnant, and Allen's father insisted that we get married or he'd cut Allen off."

"Wait a minute," I grinned. This story was better than I thought. "You mean Terry is —"

She held up a hand to stop me.

"The product of premarital sex, yes," she started to flush again. "Allen was quite rebellious in his youth. But we were married by the time she was born. I never got to go to college after that, Kenny. By the time Terry and Wally were old enough, Allen wouldn't even discuss my going to college. He was becoming more and more religious, like his father."

"Tell me about it," I agreed. Wally and I had been friends since third grade, and I remembered Mr. Kennedy being an okay guy. For a while.

"To get back to the money," she broke my reverie. "I have some bonds, but I can't actually sign them over to you right now. In a year, though, they'll be worth twenty thousand dollars.

"And if something happens to you in that year?" I asked skeptically.

"Well..." she began, but it was apparent that I'd be out of luck.

"So you want me to loan you twenty thousand dollars with no security, no monthly payments, and no interest. Have I got that right?"

She began wringing her hands again, and after a minute looked up at me.

"Kenny, I don't have anywhere else to turn," she said. "What do you want me to do? Do you know any jobs that'll pay me twenty thousand dollars so I can pay you back more quickly?"

While Mrs. Kennedy had been looking down at her hands and feet, I'd done a good deal of looking at Mrs. Kennedy. And actually, I thought I did have a job that might net her twenty thousand dollars, with just a few weekends of work. I smiled at her.

"Jobs that Allen won't find out about?" she continued.

A little harder maybe, but yeah, that too.

"So tell me how you were going to work this?" I changed the subject. "I was just going to write you a check for twenty thousand dollars?"

"No," she sniffled. "Allen always goes over our checking account every month."

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

"I have the account numbers for the funds to be wired to," she said. "Oh, God, I'm so embarrassed."

She sat there sobbing for a while, while I took one final look at her.

"Will you excuse me for just a minute, Mrs. Kennedy?" I gave her a small smile. I left without waiting for her answer, and returned in a minute with a set of papers. On my way back, I grabbed the account numbers off the table where she'd put them.

"So do you have any tattoos?" I asked as I took my seat.

"I beg your pardon?" she looked up at me.

"Tattoos," I said. "Do you have any?"

"No," she said curtly. "What business is it of —"

"Ever had plastic surgery?" I continued.

"Kenny, what is the point of these questions?"

I refused to answer, and she eventually gave in.

"No, I've never had plastic surgery."

"Good," I answered. "Here."

I gave her the papers. She skimmed them and looked up at me in horror.

"You want me to enter your, your MILF Show?" she stood up.

"You lose some weight, you cut your hair," I said, "and I think you can win your division here in Illinois, for moms with kids 18 years and older. First prize is twenty thousand dollars."

"This is disgusting," she threw down the papers.

"So it's okay for you to take the money I made from the show," I said. "But it's not okay for you to make it yourself."

That stumped her for a few seconds, but she pressed on.

"Kenny, I have to think of the Seventh Commandment. Thou shalt not commit adultery."

"And it's unlikely that anyone shalt ask you to do so, Mrs. Kennedy," I smiled, already prepared with a Clintonian distinction. "You don't have to violate the Seventh Commandment unless you get to the national show. And the chance of your getting there by winning the Illinois contest — at the age of what, forty? — is pretty slim."

I sat back and grinned.

"I'm thirty-eight," she stuck her chin into the air.

"Although this year you do have to violate yourself with a nice big dildo," I said as I watched her eyes grow big, "and you will have to suck my dick."

I waved the little paper with the account numbers.

"But it's completely up to you," I reminded her. "You're the one who needs the twenty thousand dollars. I'm only the one with the twenty thousand dollars. And the one who knows something that pays twenty thousand dollars. And the one who's willing to front you the money even without your fucking bonds so that my friend Wally and his asshole sister who's never been nice to me in her life can go to college. I'll see you out, Mrs. Kennedy."

She put a hand on my chest as I stood up.

"Kenny, think of my position here in town," she said. "What would Reverend Becker say? His wife is my best friend."

"Jane Becker?" I grinned. "I don't know about the Reverend, but Jane would say, 'go get 'em, girlfriend.' At least that's what she said to Becca last year after the intercounty finals."

"Kenny," she looked like she'd been pole-axed. "You will never get me to believe that Jane Baker went to watch your intercounty finals."

"That's true, she didn't. She was there because she'd won the local contest in the 9 to 12 age group. She barely got beat at the intercounty. That Jane Becker is one nice-looking lady. I think she'd get to move up this year to an easier division, 12 to 15, but I understand she's dropping out."

"I don't believe that, either, Kenneth."

"Fine," I said, motioning toward the door. "Maybe you should ask her about it after church tomorrow. And it's still Kenny. Nice talking to you."

I closed the door behind her and returned to my day off.

The doorbell rang at about one-thirty the next afternoon and I let Mrs. Kennedy back in, wearing the same outfit.

"So you talked to Jane?" I asked her.

"Jane told me I was a prude," she said. "She told me that if you'd asked her to do it this year, she'd have jumped at the chance. She told me you could have your choice of women this year anywhere in the country, let alone in Illinois."

I had a big grin by now.

"She told me to 'go get 'em, girlfriend,'" Mrs. Kennedy said. "So why me, Kenny?"

"You remember that time you took me to the beach with you guys, and I had just gotten my first camera?"

"Yes?" she nodded.

"I got this one picture of you wearing that hideous one-piece suit when you were leaning forward. I even convinced myself that this one shadow was actually one of your nipples."

She blushed furiously.

"I've been jacking off to that picture ever since," I laughed. "And you need the money, right? Wally's still my best friend. Even if his father and sister are assholes. So you have the application?"

She took it out from the pocket of the same jacket she'd been wearing yesterday. I could see she'd filled it out.

"And the money?"

"I had it wired yesterday morning," I said nonchalantly.

"You cocky son of a bitch," she said angrily. "You think just because you've got a big penis that I... that I..."

"Actually, I didn't think about that, no," I said as she realized what she'd said and reddened again. "I think I wanted my friend to go to school. You and Jane must have had a nice chat. For now, though, I do need to see what we're starting with."

I nodded at her clothes.

Biting her lip, she slowly unzipped her jacket and let it drop to the ground. Underneath that, she had on one of Wally's T-shirts, which she just as slowly pulled over her head. Finally, she got down to her bra, which looked like an industrial model that she'd inherited from her mother.

"Now the pants," I said.

She pushed her pants down, undid her shorts, and pushed those down as well, to show me the granny panties that perfectly matched the bra. Finally, she reached behind her back for the catch to her bra.

"No need," I stopped her. "I just wanted to fix the 'before' picture in my mind.

"All right," I finally said after an appraisal that clearly made her uncomfortable. "First, I think you need to lose about fifteen pounds."

"More like twenty," she said nervously.

"No, we want to leave a little," I smiled. "Trust me. But you will need to let your hair grow a little longer, and then cut it a little softer. And add a little more muscle. And buy some new underwear."

"I can take care of that, thank you very much," she said.

"Yeah, right," I said. "I think we'll do it together. All of it. Starting with your training. Now, I know Wally leaves for space camp a week from Tuesday. That's a really cool job, by the way. How about Terry? Do we have to work around her?"

She shook her head.

"She's a counselor at Christian camp all summer," she said as I rolled my eyes. "She's already gone. She'll be back in the middle of August for a few weeks before she goes back to school."

"Good," I said. "Then we'll start on Wednesday. I think this'll be fun..."

I looked at the application, and looked back at her with a grin.

"... Robin."

MarshAlien
MarshAlien
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13 Comments
jtwheelsjtwheelsover 4 years ago
Robin hood and it's a clit it's hiding

And they keep on coming

rightbankrightbankover 7 years ago
The mark of a good story?

the comments.

This chapter has them in spades.

AnonymousAnonymousover 10 years ago

I like this series.

DoctimeDoctimeover 10 years ago

I am sorry there are no stars to award. A really great ending to this chapter. It "blew" me away!

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
Humm, Mrs. Kennedy comes out....

Well, well. Mrs Kennedy, you old dog, you. However I've still got my money on Mom pulling something. "Notes-R-Us"

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