The Return of Molly Minx

Then again, my Vincent's ensemble consisted of a black mini skirt, sleeveless tight white top and black stockings with knee high fuck me boots. It was another little dig at my secret profession that the other waitresses claimed how risqué the outfit was while I felt over dressed.

That outfit earned me good tips, damn good tips and perhaps if I chose between the mortgage or Paul's tuition, it-along with Paul's part time job-could get us by, but I wouldn't make that choice. If I did, the house would obviously be the thing to go, but then again wherever we went we'd have to pay rent, which would be cheaper, but still...

"Stop it." I said to my reflection, my head had been racing constantly lately, a direct result of going from only a couple of shoots a month my first three months back in porn to the weekly ones I was doing now. I could do more, there would be enough offers and if I did two a week I could drop Vincent's.

"Even I don't listen to me." I sighed, "Slow your role Mary."

I stared at my reflection and shook my head. Without make up, I was an attractive woman who could pass for mid thirties rather than my actual forty four years. My alter ego Molly was always heavily made up and I used a variety of lewd smiles and come hither glares to add to that sluttish persona.

When I was plain old Mary Stevens, my big blue eyes beneath long blonde lashes had a look of innocence and my full lips, high cheek bones and curly blond hair gave me a classic natural beauty. I had been attractive enough to model in my teens, but like many couldn't get that break.

But what I did get-and as a young runaway took-was the sad, but true, cliché of the casting couch. My introduction to porn was a test of my 'skills' and 'acting ability' to an agents, who suitably impressed, handed me five hundred dollars in cash and set up my debut scene in the classic, "Teens who like big cock part three."

I was told to pick a name and all I could think of was how my grandfather had called me Molly, instead of Mary because he was losing his hearing and memory. He would laugh and say "Good golly, Miss Molly!" whenever he saw me. I coupled that with how the agent had referred to me as a hot little minx and a legend was born, then retired and recently reborn.

At least in this incarnation I was choosier and not filming gang bangs, rough hardcore sex and fetish stuff. I'd also yet to perform with a woman this time around. I'd never been interested in women, but faked my way through to make money, now I wasn't sure I could anymore. Good old Molly was getting to be quite the porn prude.

I grunted, that was me, holding on to my scruples. I glanced at my phone on the table and saw I'd received two texts. I was waiting for Dan to wrap up another shoot so we could catch that drink. He'd said it was only a quick BJ scene for 'my mom sucks' yet another milf driven site. Apparently 'mom' in porn was being connected to any 'mom' not just 'your' mom.

I saw the first text was from work asking if I wanted to do a short six to eleven shift to fill in for someone. It was a Tuesday which meant it would be slow and tips would suck, but anything was something and as tired as I was, moving nonstop prevented my constant wheel spinning on my moral dilemma.

I'd worked last night, slept a few hours and come to my 'modeling job' for ten this morning. I'd been looking forward to relaxing tonight and spending more time with Paul than a quick dinner. We enjoyed watching movies together and we hadn't in over two weeks between our schedules. But I always ducked him the nights following a shoot, the guilt really got to me then.

I sent a text to Marv, the manager of Vincent's that I'd be there. I'd skip the drink with Dan and go home and sleep a little while. Paul had school and work and wouldn't be home until nine anyway so I wasn't losing out on much tonight.

I checked the second text and frowned.

"Hey, mom, hope you're knocking them dead today! Bet this shoot pans out! See you tonight!"

For months I'd been lying to him. Telling him I had photo shoots and then saying none of them had turned into anything yet or saying I'd been paid, but not sure when and where the pics would be used.

I replied, "Hey, honey, I got called into work tonight. Just until eleven, I'll be home by eleven thirty, please don't wait up! There's some lasagna in the fridge, make sure you eat."

I looked up at a quick knock, "Come in."

"Hey, Mary." Dan said, coming in.

"I love that people knock around here," I rolled her eyes, "Like there's anything resembling modesty."

"No reason not to have manners." Dan replied, "Hey listen, I have to take a rain check on that drink. Larry the genius double booked himself and asked me to oversee a scene in a half hour. It's a threesome for Exotica, some actual plot and the sex is supposed to be kind of arsty, It's going to take hours to get it right."

"That's okay." I told him, "I have a chance to work tonight."

"Christ, you're still slinging drinks at that crappy place?" He laughed, "Vincent's is like a notch up from hooters, sexy girls, but fully dressed so you can bring the fam!"

"I have to keep the job."

"Come on, Molly, an hour on your back and knees pays you more than a week on your feet there."

"You know, Dan, just when I think you're a regular guy you say crap like that."

"I've been in porn for twenty five years. We started about the same time, but I never left. I do the best I can."

"I know, and you're great, everyone loves to work with you and you're like family to me." I laughed, "Not the family everyone's into these days though."

"These days? Shit, Mary, Kay Parker's taboo was already a legend when we started."

"True. I have to keep the real job, Dan. If I don't I have to explain where the money's coming from."

"Your modeling gig."

"But then Paul is going to want to see ads or videos, I can't keep saying I get paid with no proof."

"Right." He sighed, "I'm sure that's part of what you're looking to vent about."

"I'm in a bad spot, Dan, I feel like everything is lose, lose right now." I admitted.

"I get it, how about breakfast tomorrow morning? My first shoots not until two."

"Sure," I paused, "Come at eight Paul's still home, he hasn't seen you in weeks."

"Okay." He grinned, "That's me, uncle Dan." The smile faded. "I get why you worry. I'd feel like less than shit if Paul ever found out how we met and that I film you now."

"And you'd be feeling higher than me."

"Well, we'll talk tomorrow, and speaking of modeling, here." He handed me an envelope and I flinched at the memory of my dream. "Had Jerry take these a couple weeks ago."

As I opened the envelope to look at the contents he continued, "They're from the 'mom takes it all off' shoot."

"Mom's a stripper, right." I grunted.

"Hey, Paul's mom is a porn star." Dan quipped, "But stripping is unrealistic." He started to laugh, then saw the look on my face. "Sorry, jeez one hour with Brad and listen to me."

"Forget it." I muttered as looking at the pics.

I was in a conservative knee length black skirt and white blouse in the first three pictures, smiling and posing. The next few I was in different angles, lifting the skirt to show some leg and unbuttoning the blouse.

The pictures were well done, mostly waist up and catching my long blonde hair flying and I was smiling and laughing. I knew there had been many where I looked lewd and salacious, but they'd been left out.

The next to last one showed me from behind, sliding the white blouse down my back. I frowned and showed it to Dan.

"Not that risqué and think about it, Mary. Paul is twenty, he knows any model is going to show some skin and shoot sexy poses. I think you show him this it looks more legit. More real than pretending you're modeling long coats and jeans all the time."

"I think you're right." I looked at the last picture. In it the blouse was open, but I had a black bra on and was holding the shirt closed at the bottom, a playful smile on my face.. "Sad this is modest to me."

"Say it was for a Victoria secret knock off."

"Thanks, Dan, I appreciate you doing this."

"No worries and if you ever need real proof I have a friend in the actual industry, push comes to shove I can call in a favor and get you an hour with a photographer. We could have Paul come see you at work."

"That's good to know." I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, "You're a damn decent guy for a purveyor of filth."

"And you're a sweet woman for a professional slut."

"Touche." I laughed a real one and it felt good. "See you tomorrow."

Dan waved and left, closing the door behind him. Preparing to leave myself, I Grabbed my phone and saw Paul had returned my text.

"Working again? You should take it easy. But I appreciate your hard work and everything you do for us! I have a lot of respect for you, love you, mom!"

I lowered the phone and felt a wave of sadness come over me. Paul telling me he respected me. That would change if he discovered the truth, because for the last few months I couldn't even respect myself.

***** I gratefully pulled into the driveway and slowly got out of the car. In the heat of the moment I hadn't realized how hard Rick and Derek had been fucking me, not to mention tossing me around like a rag doll.

Add to that the fact I'd worked until one am the night before and after the shoot getting home at three, to shower, change and head out for a five to eleven shift at Vincent's Pub and I was hurting and exhausted.

I walked up to the porch and entering the living room found Paul in his usual spot, sitting at the dining room table on his lap top. He had a desk in his room, but said he liked it better down here. I knew the real reason was he always wanted to see me before he went to sleep on nights I worked at the restaurant.

I smiled when I saw he had sunk down in the chair and was dozing. Paul was concerned and protective of me. He still sometimes offered to pick me up after work so I wouldn't have to drive home that late. He was a good boy, no, no longer a boy, my son was a good young man.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, I unzipped the heeled, knee high boots and sighed in relief when I pulled them off. I padded softly over to the table and smiled down at Paul.

Every time I saw him, I saw his father. John used to joke there would never have to be a paternity test. Paul had the same gorgeous hazel eyes that shifted between a light green and golden brown, sandy brown hair and strong jaw as his father.

Along with that was the huge easy smile that had been one of John's endearing features which went well with his laid back, easy going attitude. Paul was the mellowest twenty year old I knew. Even as a teen, things rarely got to him and when something did manage to upset him, like his father, his answer was to get through it without drama, but a quiet resolve.

He'd shown that through John's illness and death. Paul had been strong for both his dying father and his grief stricken mother. Paul had been my rock, far more than I had been his, I felt, but he claimed he was strong for me because I was so strong for his father.

Paul resembled him in build as well, tall and on the thinner side through his teen years, but recently filling out from a combination of going to the school gym a couple times a week and two years on the wrestling team.

All in all, Paul was a damn good looking young man, but even better was he had the rare combination of good looks with a sweet disposition. He wasn't a cocky jerk like a lot of boys his age.

He was sensitive and caring and the girls had noticed, few were the times Paul hadn't had a girlfriend since his early teens. But he never played the girls; he dated one at a time and genuinely seemed to care about each one.

John's father had been an abusive womanizing drunk and having been in the porn industry I'd dealt with nothing but disrespectful misogynistic assholes.

The two of us were proud to have raised a gentleman. The kind of gentleman who wouldn't go to bed until he knew his mother was safely home for the night and sent her such wonderful supportive texts. While watching him, I frowned at the thought Paul hadn't dated anyone in months.

He'd been dating a sweet girl named Jen from PC who came to the funeral and was very supportive, but a few months later he broke it off with her, without giving me much of a reason, since then no one. I'd brought it up casually here and there, but looking at him now I decided to talk about it for real soon, Paul was too good a kid to be alone and not have any fun.

"Ahem!" I cleared my throat loudly and when he opened his eyes I clapped my hands, "Rise my loyal watch dog, your mother is home and secured. You may now go to bed."

"I must have just closed my eyes." He smiled, up at me, "You know, a minute or so ago."

"Right." I nodded, "I've heard that one before, now head on to bed."

"What about you? You worked last night and both jobs today, you must be exhausted, you worked twice as hard."

I winced inwardly at the thought what I'd worked was twice the cock. I hated my own sarcastic little digs, but seemed unable to stop them.

"Yeah, I'm pretty beat."

"Must be sore too." He quickly stood up and gestured to the chair, "Sit down."

"There's other chairs, hon." I pulled the one closest to me out and sat down. "Sit back down."

"If I sit I can't do this." Paul walked up behind my chair.

"What are you, ohhh!" I cooed when his strong hands massaged my shoulders, "That's nice, but you..."

"Need to take care of my mom the way you take care of me. You worked two jobs today, least I can do is help you relax."

"You went to school and worked." I pointed out, but happily succumbed to his suggestion and relaxed into the chair, enjoying his attention.

"I'm half your age."

"Watch it, mister!"

I could see him behind me in the mirror over the mantle smiling away at me.

"Yes mother." He winked.

I sat there in silence, occasionally cooing in delight as Paul rubbed first my shoulders, then my upper arms, before easing me forward enough to rub my upper back.

"Damn, you ever think about being a masseuse?"

"Nah, I don't want to touch guys." He laughed.

"You get to touch beautiful women." I pointed out.

"Touching one right now." He told me, "One's enough."

"Smooth talker." I sighed as his hands worked lower, "Wow that feels good, I happily admit, I am glad you didn't just go to bed."

"Not smooth, it's true, you're beautiful, mom."

"Thank you, baby, but all sons think their mom's are pretty."

"Some are lying." He said seriously, "You ever see Jack's mom?"

"Paul!" I tried to sound mad, but laughed, "Okay, point made."

"Speaking of, how did the shoot go?"

Fantastic! I gave a ski job, sucked two cocks and spent a half hour getting it in each end before having two loads blown on my face.

"It went well, little racy, but tasteful, there's an envelope on the couch with my purse if you want to look."

"Sure, in a little bit, right now I'm busy." He emphasized his point by slipping his hands under the sides of my sleeveless top and now rubbing my bare skin.

"Oh, that's the spot." I groaned when he massaged just below my shoulder blades.

He worked his hands back up to the tops of my shoulders, his fingers now rubbing the front of them while his thumbs worked the back. Paul's grip was pleasantly firm, using just enough pressure to feel good, but not hurt and looking in the mirror I watched him standing behind me.

I blinked at an unwanted image of earlier. I envisioned Rick, then Derek behind me, their hands on my shoulders just as Paul's were, squeezing and holding me still as they drove their cocks into me from behind. The two of them taking turns and moving from my pussy to my mouth.

Paul's fingers worked lower, but instead of relaxing, I tensed up. This had been happening a lot lately. I'd be with Paul, sometimes just watching TV and would suddenly start thinking about my most recent scene.

"That feel good, mom?" Paul asked, but immediately afterward was Rick's voice, "You like that, mom? You like your son fucking you?"

I abruptly sat forward, pulling away from his touch. "That's enough." I said with a little more force than I meant to.

"You okay?"

"Fine, don't you want to see the pictures?" I changed the subject.

"Sure," He took my arm, "Let's go check them out."

"You can bring them here." I said, as he gently tugged my arm.

"Just follow me." He grinned, "There's a method to my madness."

"Lead on." I said with an exaggerated sigh, while inwardly glad he'd brushed off my getting testy with him. "I am but a pawn in your game."

"Really? So how about that I-phone six?"

"I'm tired, not drunk."

Paul burst out laughing and flashed me the smile that never failed to melt me. It touched his eyes and my heart. God, I loved him so much! I got up and let him lead me to the couch. He gestured to it and sitting in the corner, I leaned back against the arm as he sat on the other end and opened the envelope.

"Wow." He whistled slowly flipping through the pictures, "Look at you, mom! You're one fine milf."

Oh, you didn't know the half of it, I thought disgustedly. Haven't you heard? Molly Minx is the hot milf these days.

"I don't know about all that."

"Please, look at these, you know you're hot." He held up the last one. "Love this, sexy, but not nasty, you're really loving the camera in this one."

I've loved the camera more than that.

"You don't think it's too much?" I asked, playing modest mom.

"Not at all, hell mom, bathing suits show more than this. So who is this for?"

"Oh, uh, Catherine's Closet." I wanted to slap myself, that was the name of a lesbian website Dan did a lot of work for, but it was the first thing that came to me.

"Huh, what's that?"

"Its Victoria secret knock offs."

"Oh." he nodded, "This all they wanted you to show? I'd figure you'd be in lingerie."

"And if I was, I wouldn't show them to my son."

"Come on mom, I'm twenty, not twelve."

"It's the point. There's things a proper mother doesn't do." Wow, you hear yourself, Mary?

"I'd just find them on the net anyway." He shrugged, "Everything is on the damn net."

I did my best to ignore the kick in the stomach sensation from that remark, "I suppose, why, you looking me up?"

He laughed, "Mary Stevens? You wouldn't even be the only one in this city. That would be a needle in the haystack; you don't even have a face book."

But Molly Minx had a goddamn blog, Dan's company had set up, all his girls had one.

"Well guess it pays to be a plain Jane with a boring name."

"Nothing plain about you, Mom." He waved the pictures in front of his face as if fanning himself, "You're a hottie."

"Figures." I sighed, "A good looking young man says I'm hot and it's only my son, stroking my ego."

"My friend's think you're hot." He rolled his eyes, "You have no idea how much crap I've heard since middle school about how hot my mother is."

I thought he hadn't heard anything yet if any of his friends happened to be fans of watered down incest porn.

"Well your hot milf mom is going to take her old ass to bed."

"Bet you're tired."

"I am." I agreed, "Sore to, thank you for the shoulder rub."

"Least I can do, you work so hard for us." He leaned over and I yelped in surprise when he grabbed my ankles and swung my feet up and placed them across his knees.

"What are you doing?"

"Your feet have to be killing you." Paul replied, taking my right foot between his hands.

"Honey, you don't have to," I stopped and emitted a sound of pure delight as his strong fingers kneaded the soft skin of the sole of my foot. "Um, well if you insist."

"I do." He looked at me with a serious expression on his face, "You deserve to be pampered, Mom. I can't do much compared to what you do for me, but I can try to make you feel good."