Show Moms Ch. 02

And then they introduced Robin. I stepped forward as the audience politely applauded and then began to titter. I looked back over my shoulder to find Robin rooted to the spot where we'd been standing before we were introduced. I gave her a glare as the titters turned into laughter. I snapped my fingers, pointing to a spot on the arena floor just in back of me. Robin jumped forward as the laughter turned into a round of enthusiastic applause. Just like we'd practiced it. We then stepped back to wait our turn. I remembered this part from last year; it was going to be a while.

** *

Even though Becca hadn't really cared about the money, she was competitive enough to want to win. So we spent the last few weekends in August watching film of previous competitions. Becca showed me what I shouldn't do, and let me know that she would take care of the rest. I felt kind of like Tiger Woods's caddy — carry the bag, hand over the clubs he asked for, collect the check.

And sure enough, we breezed through the local and regional shows. There wasn't a woman there who could hold a candle to Becca, even clothed. With her clothes off, her perfect breasts on display, her perfectly trimmed landing strip inviting attention to her perfect little puss, she was untouchable.

The state finals, in Chicago, were only a little bit more competitive. Becca easily won her division, for women with kids age 6 through 9, but the woman who won the 9-12 group, Connie Templeton, looked pretty strong as well. Even before the finals, she had started talking loudly about her upcoming trip to Hawaii.

"Mouthy broad, isn't she?" Becca muttered under her breath.

"Well, we'll see," I said.

Becca laughed so hard she got the hiccups. The state shows didn't involve any actual sex that year, but each MILF had to give head to an enormous dildo. Becca's deepthroat act proved to be more than enough to finish the other moms off.

"See, I was right," I said as Becca jumped on me for a bear hug. "Not nearly mouthy enough."

We were headed to Hawaii.

The finals were held on the weekend after Thanksgiving, but Becca wanted to get there a week earlier, to finalize our presentation and "practice." Bob, Bree, and Mom would fly in to celebrate Thanksgiving with us, along with Mom, and then attend the finals.

Becca and I finished unpacking our stuff in our adjoining rooms, and then it was time. Understand, I'd been jerking off while fantasizing about Becca long before this contest started. Seeing her naked every third weekend had done absolutely nothing to end that. I'd been looking forward to this week for a long time.

But it turned out to be incredibly anticlimactic. Well, maybe anticlimactic is the wrong word; I did actually climax, and so did Rebecca. Still, it was strange how she could keep everything on a perfectly clinical level, explaining to me, in an even voice — even when my cock was buried in her pussy — all of the little things that I could do to help her reach a crashing orgasm. She taught me various positions, and how to move from one to another almost seamlessly. By Wednesday evening, when our "entourage" was expected, I could give Becca an orgasm from any position, in any time she set for me.

We abstained on Thursday and Friday. I kind of figured it was because of Mom and Bob, but it turned out that there had been a tactical reason all along. As we waited Friday morning in the grooming area for the 6-to-9 division to walk into the arena, she leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

"I am so hot right now."

I turned and stared at her. She just giggled.

"Do you think the last couple of days had absolutely no effect on me?" she asked. "Right now I want your cock in my pussy so badly, I —"

The announcement to begin the procession prevented me from learning what she would do. Because there were 35 entrants in the 6-and-over age division, the contestants performed in groups of threee. In this case, the performance, after stripping, was a ten-minute blowjob. Once again, Becca was far and away the best, and was selected, along with five other women, to stay in the arena for the five-minute compulsory sex portion. This year, our division had drawn standing doggystyle, and with Becca's height, the other women had no chance.

The overall finals on Saturday afternoon pitted Becca against four very hot MILFs, one from each of the five age divisions. Connie was one of them. It turned out that even if you didn't win your state competition, you could enter an interstate competition. There were eight of them. Ours included contestants from Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Missouri.

If you won an age division at an interstate, you were eligible for the nationals, provided the national show didn't already have more than thirty entrants in your division and provided you were willing to pay your own way. Those competitions were actually necessary to fill out the national show. No woman in the 15-18 or 18-and-over age divisions had ever won a state title, and those divisions, at the national show, consisted only of women who took the interstate route.

The interstate competitions were designed to recognize that one state could easily produce two talented MILFs, although Connie was the first to ever win the national 9-12 division after losing her state final. Once again, though, Becca blew everyone away in the sex competition, a 10-minute freestyle routine which started with her leaping onto me from her showing stand and impaling herself on my cock, and ended with her flat on her back, screaming out my name as she banged her hands against the sides of the stand.

All in all, the whole thing was a great experience. Becca (and Bob!) and I remained good friends for years, I got a very nice chunk of change out of it (they added an additional $25,000 "tip"), and it certainly didn't harm my reputation in high school, which, up until then, was as a slightly above-average student with no athletic talent. When I got back on the Monday after Thanksgiving, all kinds of guys were high-fiving me in the hall. And a few days later, a number of girls (who probably hadn't watched the show live, which explained why it took a few days for the word to spread) intimated that they might be happy to have me call them. I figured I'd get it all sorted out after the Christmas break. In the meantime, of course, I had some serious studying to do with our semester finals only two weeks away.

The only person I tried to keep it from was my best friend, Wally Kennedy. And it was pretty unlikely he'd find out on his own. His family was more than a little conservative — hell, they didn't even have cable TV — and they had every internet filter known to mankind on their computer. His dad was some sort of deacon at one of the evangelical churches and his mom, from what I'd seen, didn't own a pair of slacks or a dress that showed her knees. His older sister Terry wore clothes like her mother did. She had been the best-looking girl in the class before ours, which was a real shame. She'd inherited her mother's looks, but her father's condescending attitude. She was currently a freshman at Christendom Bible College, which figured. I hoped it was a girls' school, because if there were boys there, she'd be looking down her nose at them just like she did at the rest of us.

Anyway, I was a little reluctant to tell Wally that I'd spent the fall fucking Becca Roberts, particularly since, as far as I knew, he was still a virgin. He noticed that I was getting a lot more attention after the holiday, but I just shrugged my shoulders when he asked if I knew why.

That didn't last long, of course. I was over at his house three days after Christmas when Terry, home from college, walked impatiently into the living room while Wally and I were playing chess.

"All right, geeks, I'm only gonna do this once," she announced scornfully. "This is my roommate Amanda. Mandy, that's my dorky brother Wally on the left, and his equally dorky friend, uh . . ."

"Kenny," I said. She knew my name, but it had always served her purposes to pretend she didn't. I stood up and offered my hand. The girl trailing Terry wasn't in Terry's league — she didn't have the long, blonde hair; the full, pouty lips; the firm, round tits; the long, toned legs — but she was cute enough. She smiled at me, for one thing.

"—on the right," Terry finished. "Okay? Let's go. My folks are probably in the kitchen."

"Dad's at work and mom's at the store," Wally said absent-mindedly as he turned his attention back to the game.

"Whatever," Terry said impatiently. "Let's go to my room."

Amanda turned to wave goodbye, and then stopped dead and stared at me.

"OH — MY — GOD!" Amanda suddenly yelped. "I know who you are! You're that guy on the internet! The guy with the big — "

She suddenly remembered where she was, or that she was a Christendom Bible College student, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Meanwhile, though, the Kennedy kids were looking at me like I just grew a third head.

Terry in particular looked stunned.

"He's the guy you've been talking about for the last month?" she demanded. "He's the guy with that Becca Roberts?"

Wally's interest was now piqued as well. He'd been to my house. He'd met my neighbors.

"Becca Roberts who lives next door to you?" he asked. "What does she mean you were with Becca Roberts?"

"I'll tell you later," I said. "It was nice to meet you, Amanda."

"You, too, Kenny," she said as she leaned against the door frame. "So are you doing anything on New Year's Eve?"

"No," Terry said flatly. "Absolutely not."

I was surprised she didn't stomp her foot. Unfortunately, as tempting as it would have been to accept a date with Amanda and ruin Terry's New Year's Eve at the same time, I had to turn Amanda down.

"I gotta run some booth downtown at the 'family celebration. '"

"Bummer," Amanda said.

"Yeah, bummer," I agreed.

"So maybe I'll see you somewhere else," she smiled.

"Maybe."

Actually, I didn't see her. Wally did, though. I filled him in on the whole MILF Show thing a few days later, and he actually came over to my house to watch the highlight video. The next time I saw him was when school started back up the day after New Year's. He was walking around with a particularly stupid grin on his face.

"What happened to you?" I asked as we were putting our shit in our lockers.

"That girl? Amanda?" he smiled. "My parents went out on New Year's Eve and my sister went to some dance, so she stayed home with me. I asked her what she'd liked about your video, and then she asked me if my cock was as big as yours. Well, it's not, really, but, anyway, we..."

"You dog," I punched him on the shoulder. "Gonna keep seeing her? She's an older woman, you know."

"Nope," Wally seemed to come back down to earth. "She's got a boyfriend who goes to some nearby college. I do have some bad news, though. My folks overheard her blabbing about you, and my dad says you can't come over to the house anymore."

"Asshole," I muttered.

"Yeah," Wally agreed. "Sorry. Mom says I can still go over to your place though."

I slammed my locker in disgust, but if truth be told, I was actually fine with that. I'd miss seeing his mom — even in those churchy clothes — but I could do without Mr. Christian and, since Terry seemed to come home from school every weekend, I could do without her snippy little remarks, too.

Not that I seemed to have the time to visit any more, anyway. Within a week I was dating Susan Collins, an awfully cute 11th grade cheerleader who wouldn't have given me the time of day before my MILF Show success. I dated some other girls on and off, too, and ended up taking last year's cheerleader captain — the college freshman sister of one of my football jock classmates — to the senior dance. Almost all the girls I went out with had seen my video, and most of them were willing to treat the video as foreplay and go straight to the main course.

All in all, it was a great semester. I made the spring golf team, although I was never going to be one of the top players. My grades had actually gone up the previous semester, too, because Becca insisted on my studying as a prerequisite for our contract, and I kept them up that spring. To top it off, I actually got into a pretty good college, something I hadn't thought possible at the beginning of the year, and something that delighted my mom no end. Handley College is a small liberal arts school a few hours south of here, and I was quite sure that I owed my admission, and the generous offer of financial aid, to one of its most prominent alumni, Bob Roberts. A week before my graduation, my mom and I dropped by Bob and Becca's house on a Friday evening with a bottle of champagne to say thanks. We were all sitting at a table around the pool when Becca asked me if I had gotten any good e-mails lately.

I smiled back at her.

"In fact, I have," I said. "I should have known that was your work."

"What e-mails?" Mom asked.

"You know, Mom," I smiled. "The same kind of e-mails that all high school seniors get. Pictures of naked women, videos of naked women, women begging me to come see them, women begging for a chance to come see me."

Mom was starting to look alarmed when Becca butted in.

"Well, I didn't know about the pictures and the videos," she said to Mom, "but some women who heard I wasn't going to defend my title this year e-mailed me to ask if I minded if they contacted Kenny. So I passed on his e-mail address to the ones I knew. I just told the others that they were free to contact him on their own."

"And which category did Connie Templeton fall in?" I asked.

She glowered.

"That bitch called me up on New Years' Day to find out if I was going to enter," Becca snapped. "I would have never given her your e-mail."

"Well, apparently she found it," I said. "Those were some very nice pictures."

"You're not going to take her, are you?" Becca seemed upset.

"I'm not sure if I'm even going to do it this year," I said. "But if I do, it won't be with her. I didn't like her any more than you did."

"Why wouldn't you do it?" Mom asked.

"School," I was surprised she'd asked. "Handley's a tough school. I can't take off that many weekends to go to those shows. Let alone train a new MILF."

We all laughed. My "training" of Becca had been non-existent; it was her training of me that had taken all of our time.

"I don't know," Becca cautioned. "First prize for states this year is a hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

"Thanks to you," I said. Prize money was based in part on the response to the previous year's winner, and Becca had been gold for the organizers. Subscriptions were already up this year by thirty percent. In addition, the rules gave the winner's home state a slightly bigger share of the overall purse for the following year. "Seriously, though, what are the chances of lightning striking again? I just don't think it's going to be worth the time."

"Well, with respect to your schedule," Becca pressed on, "the local competition takes place in early September, right before your first classes start. And states are during your fall break. So the only weekend you'll really miss is the intercounty contest to qualify for states."

"What are you, my agent?" I laughed. "I should have known you'd have a copy of the Handley schedule. And why are you pushing this?"

"I don't want Connie to win this year," she said finally. "Wining a purse that I'm responsible for making bigger. And getting the crown from me."

I laughed again. Those two just hadn't hit it off last year.

After that, we dropped the subject and carried on with our celebration. It wasn't what you'd call raucous. Since Mom had to get up the next day before dawn, we left a little after nine o'clock.

I got up to see Mom off and then went back to sleep. Mom was coach of the school's debating team (Wally was the star), and they'd qualified for some kind of championship in Chicago. She wouldn't be back until dinner time on Sunday. I was determined to make the best of the weekend. Starting with sleeping late. I was lying in bed, dreaming about Barbie Perkins doing her best to suck my socks off through my dick. The doorbell rang once, and then again, and Barbie gave up.

"I can't concentrate," she said. "Maybe you better answer it."

"Huh?"

What kind of dream was this? Whose subconscious stopped their dream in the middle of a blowjob to answer the door? I slowly realized that the doorbell was coming from outside my dream. I raised my head very reluctantly from the pillow as the doorbell sounded one more time.

As the doorbell sounded yet again, I dragged myself from bed, pulled a pair of jeans over the gym shorts that I slept in, and began to make my way groggily down the hallway toward the nuisance. I pulled open the door to find a woman wearing an oversized blue zipped sweatshirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, her face hidden under a baseball cap.

"May I please come in, Kenneth?" she asked dully, lifting her face as I slowly realized that the woman standing in front of me was Wally's mom. I hadn't seen her in five months or so, ever since I'd been warned away from the house.

"Yeah," I said reluctantly. "Sure."

She looked up at me dully, looked around to see if she'd been spotted, and pushed past me into the house.

"Mrs. Kennedy," I shut the door behind us. "Can I help you?"