Show Moms Ch. 06-07

After that, they cut in some interviews with the five finalists. So I had to watch five minutes of Connie Templeton going on about how great she was. Finally it was Becca's turn, and when she was asked for her secrets, she allowed as how she worked out regularly, ate well, and got plenty of loving from her husband.

"And of course, having the big guy here is a big help," she added with a particularly hot smile.

"The big guy?" the off-camera interviewer said.

"My handler," Becca answered. "My husband's a big guy, but my handler might be just a little bit bigger. And he makes me go off like a rocket."

She waggled her eyebrows at the camera and waved goodbye, and Chipper decided that this was a good time for another dig at me.

"Say, Gay-bo, is that true for you guys, too, the bigger the better?" he said as his friends joined him in laughter.

"Aw, man, give the dude a fucking break," Alec said.

They started showing Becca's final performance in full then, using more camera angles than I'd seen before and capturing all of the wonderful sounds she'd made deep in her throat. All the other guys were squirming in their seats; probably if there wasn't a gay guy in the room they would be engaged in some sort of mass jerk-off.

Chip reached for the remote when her performance ended.

"Wait a minute," I said. "I wanna see this next bit."

Puzzled, Chip let it run. They announced the winner, and I smiled as I saw myself turning toward Becca to celebrate, only to watch her run right past me, out of the arena and into her husband's arms.

"Man, look at that poor guy's face!" Chip laughed. "Makes that bitch cum like that and then sees her run off to her hubby!"

He noticed that nobody else was laughing. He looked around and saw that they were all staring at me.

"Man, why didn't you ever say something?" Alec asked me.

I smiled back.

"About what?" Chip asked.

Alec grabbed the remote, hit the rewind button a few times, and then hit the zoom button.

"Recognize anybody, Chipster?" he asked.

"Fuck me," Chip said.

There was a knock at the door. One of Chip's buds got up to answer it and then backed slowly into the room. I could see into the hallway from where I sat; it was Becca.

"Hi," she said. "Is this Kenny Winston's — there you are, big guy. Bob's got some boring football speech to give tonight so he suggested I take you out to dinner. Are you free?"

"Fuck me," Chip said quietly.

"Normally, I'd love to," I told him as I pulled on my shoes. "But I got a date."

I closed the door behind me, leaving four speechless dudes sitting there staring at my face on the television screen.

Chapter 7

Because the schedule at the National MILF Show called for the 18-and-over division first and the 6-9 division last, Robin and I didn't have to remain there after her victory. She could leave now, and we could hang out in Las Vegas all day. Then come back the next day for the finals. She wanted to stay, though, to assess the competition.

"Assess the competition?" I laughed. "Who are you now, Joe Paterno? I remember when you would have been happy with the twenty thousand dollars!"

Again with the arm. I was going to have a real bruise there.

"I just want to see if that slut makes it to the finals," she said.

It really surprised me just how quickly people took an active dislike to Connie Templeton.

* * * * * *

We arrived at the Springfield Coliseum for the state finals early Saturday morning. Robin's division was fourth. They generally went in order of age at the state show, but they always moved the 6-9 division to the end because they thought that everyone would leave after the younger women performed. So we had a bit of a wait ahead of us.

She'd already asked me about school, which was going great. I told her about what had happened on Thursday, and how, for whatever reason, I'd gone into my Econ mid-term with this amazing confidence. Maybe it was what Alec had said, maybe it was Becca's very timely appearance. I didn't care. I told her that I was convinced that I'd nailed it. I didn't tell her the other good news, that my English Comp instructor had been hit by a bus. Oh, she was fine, just a couple of broken bones. But she'd be out of commission for a while, and we had a really hot-looking replacement. I mean, I was sure that this new instructor was an excellent teacher.

And she had asked about my love life. I told her that the dance was fun, and that her daughter had never looked more beautiful. I didn't tell her about the conversation I'd had with some girl named Carrie, the president of the sorority, while Terry was in a back room. Carrie basically told me that they would have dumped Terry much earlier in the process until she let slip that she knew me from high school. She told me that she knew we weren't really dating because everyone knew Terry was a virgin. And then she asked me if I wanted to join her upstairs for a private party. I very firmly told her that no, I didn't want any such thing, and that if they didn't give Terry at least the courtesy of a full interview the next day, I was going to report them all to the inter-Greek council or whatever they had here. I would have told Terry to dump them if she hadn't looked so pleased when we arrived at the dance.

Finally, after we'd exhausted the chit-chat, Robin settled down with the book she'd brought. I looked up to see Connie Templeton advancing on us.

"Kenny," she said, inspecting Robin as she greeted me.

"Connie, how are you?" I said. "Robin, I'd like to introduce you to Connie Templeton. Connie, this is Robin Kennedy."

"Nice to meet you," Robin smiled.

"Sure," Connie said. "Kenny, I just wanted to let you know my offer's still open."

Connie had e-mailed me earlier in the year to find out if I was available, and then continued to send me little pictures of herself throughout the summer and fall, even after it had become clear that I was going to be handling another contestant.

"Thanks, Connie," I said levelly. "That's very sweet of you."

She waited a few more seconds, but when it became clear that she wasn't going to get the answer she wanted to hear, she finally turned to go.

"You have my e-mail address," she said as she left.

"I do," I agreed.

"What offer?" Robin put down her book.

"Oh, it was nothing," I said.

"What offer, Kenny?" she asked again.

"She wants to drop her current handler and take me on for the national show," I said.

Robin looked down the corridor where she could still see Connie walking away.

"And what makes her think she's going to make the national show?" she asked.

"She made it last year," I told her. "She actually lost to Becca here at the states, and then went through the regionals to get to Hawaii."

"And she wants you to take over as her handler, after she beats me and I don't need you any more," Robin returned her attention to her book.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "That's about it."

"She should be so lucky," Robin never lifted her head. "Bitch."

"That does seem to be the consensus," I agreed.

After they finished with the 9-12 group, which Connie won, and moved on to the 12-15 division, I decided to go for a walk on the concourse that surrounded the arena floor. On my way, I saw Becca heading for her seat. She threw me a wave, and yelled out, "I saw your girlfriend! Tracy? Terry?" before giving me a thumbs up and disappearing with the guy escorting her to her seat. I waved back, and probably walked another hundred feet before I processed what she'd said.

Terry? Here? Oh, shit. I'd kill that fucking sorority bitch. What happened to those interviews? Somebody must have figured out I'd be here and told Terry. By now she would have eagerly skipped through the program, looking for my name. And she would have found it, right next to her mother's. She might have just left, but I really didn't think so. I took off at a run, scanning all of the concession areas, and finally, about halfway around the entire coliseum, I saw her sitting by herself. She looked gorgeous, of course. But the hard expression on her face wasn't a hopeful sign. She saw me approaching and her eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?" she sneered.

"I want to tell you what's happening here," I said. "May I sit down?

"It's a free country," she said, looking at her watch.

"Okay, where to start?" I began, rubbing my hands through my hair. "Okay, your mom came to me back in June, and —"

"I called Daddy," she interrupted me.

"You what?" I asked.

"I called Daddy," she said. "He's on his way here to take mother and I home."

"What makes you think she'll go with him?" I asked.

"Do you think she wants to hear her husband standing in the arena, preaching the wrath of God to her?" she smirked. Then she suddenly burst into tears.

"I can't believe you did this," she said between sobs. "Carrie said she heard you were doing it again this year. And I thought to myself, no, he would have told me. But she had some press release she found on the internet, and so I had to pretend that I knew all about it, and that I was one hundred percent behind you. The whole sorority came to watch you because I told them how great my boyfriend was. Do you know how embarrassing it's going to be for me when they find out that you're doing it with my mother? How could you even agree to go out with me?"

I knew instinctively that my explanation was pretty lame: "Your mom didn't want anyone to know." So I shut up.

"And what if you win?" she pressed on. "You and my mom are going to have sex out there this afternoon?"

Once again, "no, it's only a blowjob" would have sounded pretty lame, so I remained silent.

"I can't believe what a jerk you are," she sobbed. "I can't believe I let myself fall for you."

Now I was getting angry. I was a nice guy; there was nothing wrong in falling for me.

"I can't believe my mother's such a slut," she added.

I reached across the table and grabbed her arm.

"Now you listen to me," I said. "Your mother's doing this for you."

"Oh, yeah, right," Terry spat. "Trying out my boyfriend."

"Your mother came to me last spring, when you wouldn't give me the time of day, because your family had absolutely no money left to pay for college. Your father has invested every penny you guys have in something that still hasn't paid a cent, so when your mom's the only one in the house, she lives on macaroni and cheese. The basement's full of fucking macaroni and cheese boxes behind those sheets she hung up. When I was there, or when your father finally makes it home for a meal, or you come home, or Wally comes home, she takes the money she's saved and makes real food. But otherwise she's been surviving on fucking macaroni and cheese."

I was on a roll now. I'd seen the mac and cheese boxes before one of our workouts, and it hadn't taken me long to figure out what they meant.

"So last spring, when your tuition payments were due, she came to me. And I loaned her twenty thousand dollars so my best friend and his assholier-than-thou sister, who could never even remember my name, didn't have to spend this semester working in a 7-Eleven to earn enough money to go to community college next year."

"You're lying," Terry murmured.

"So she's here because first prize in her division is twenty thousand dollars. And she's gonna try to give it to me, to pay me back, and I'm going to say no, you keep it so my friend Wally and my former friend Terry can stay in college for the next semester until your father's fucking fantasy investment comes in."

"I don't believe you," she said through her sniffles.

"Yeah, well, believe what you want," I said. "Just let her win the twenty thousand dollars. Oh, and when Daddy gets here, ask him where the money came from to keep you in college this year. Your mom told him you got all this great financial aid this year, but we both know you didn't, don't we? See you 'round, Theresa."

I stormed off, my stomach doing little flips, my body shaking. I had to calm down. Robin was much too attuned to my moods now. She'd know something was up. I kept on walking. By the time I made a couple of circuits and returned to the contestant area, I'd settled down a little bit. Enough, I hoped, to be able to go through with this performance. Fortunately, I didn't have a really big role. Robin would do her striptease with all the other women, and then, after fifteen contestants, do her dildo routine. She was already in her bikini when we got back, and I changed into my smock.

"I feel so stupid in this," she said, gesturing at the outfit. "I can't believe they make us wear these. And with all those people out there."

"Yeah, well, everyone else in this contest is wearing one, too," I said. "And I've had a look at them. Not one of them has your body."

"Really?" she looked into my eyes.

"Really. The only advantage they could possibly have over you at this point is that they feel really, really sexy, and you just feel embarrassed."

She looked around.

"And how do I fix that?" she said.

I bent down and lowered my voice.

"You remember," I said, "that if you win this competition, you'll be able to suck the biggest, fullest dick you've ever had in your life."

Her eyes involuntarily dropped to my crotch.

"And if I don't?" she said after moistening her lips.

I reached down and cupped her chin with my hands, probably the most intimate gesture I'd used in two seasons of competition. I pulled her up to look into my eyes and smiled.

"It won't come to that," I said.

She looked back down.

"No," she said quietly, a shiver running through her body.

Good. Now only one of us was scared to death.

The procession went fine. I could hear Jane Becker screaming as we marched. Probably Mr. Kennedy hadn't gotten here yet. I couldn't check my watch, but the clock in my head said it must be close to eleven. I figured he couldn't get here before one or one-thirty. We might actually pull this off. At least Robin could win her division. The finals weren't until three, though. There was no way he wouldn't be here by then. But I couldn't believe that they would take away the divisional trophy just because the winner's husband was an asshole.

Robin's striptease was excellent. I'd lied to her — just a little bit — about having the best body. One of the women was only thirty-four, which meant she'd had a kid at age 16, and she was in excellent shape. I found it hard to believe that she hadn't had those puppies enlarged, too. But the judges, particularly once you got to the state level, were pretty savvy about that. And there was another woman who, I'd noticed in warm-ups, appeared to have been some sort of cat in a previous life, she moved that gracefully.

I wasn't watching them now, of course. I was concentrating on Robin, letting her know that her seduction was working. At this level, she needed everything I could give her. I tried to use my eyes to let her know how hard my cock was getting while I watched her untie the front of her bikini. I licked my lips when she reached for the strings of the bottom, tugging them free but still holding the fabric in place around her hips. I let my mouth fall into a shy gape when she finally yanked it free. And finally it was over. I took my place beside her as the judges began their inspection of the MILFs.

All in all, I felt pretty confident. I'd figured if Robin could finish the striptease in the top three, I could win her the money. And I couldn't imagine that she hadn't done that.

The inspection ended, and the women began their masturbation routines. They were all pretty good, some a little more obviously fake, some really getting into it. Finally, it was Robin's turn. I walked out away from the podium, the required five steps for handlers. Like all the others had, I reached into the pocket of my smock for the dildo, pulling it out into the air. There weren't any rules about dildos; the one I'd pulled out was purple, the same one that Robin had been practicing with. Holding it high in the air, I lowered my hand, stretched it out toward Robin, took a step forward, and then turned and fired it into the stands.

I heard Robin gasp, and I turned to see her with her mouth opened, stunned at what I'd done. To her, that dildo was worth twenty thousand dollars. I smiled at her, and reached into my other pocket. Her eyes were locked on my hand as I pulled out another dildo, one I had ordered custom-made for this competition back in late August. As closely it could, it matched the length, the thickness, the head, the color, and the bumps and ridges of my own erect cock. Robin recognized it immediately, and her look changed from one of shock to one of sexual hunger. We had lost maybe thirty seconds. I wasn't worried about it.

The crowd was going nuts. They had no idea what my cock looked like, but they could tell exactly what I'd done from Robin's face. Plus from the way her guttural voice came out over the loudspeaker: "Now give me your fucking cock."

I strode forward and held it out for her. She grabbed my wrist, and used my arm to plunge the dildo deep inside of her. Grabbing hold of the dildo with one hand, she raised her leg and put a foot on my chest. Our eyes locked, and she pushed me away as I let go, falling backward onto my ass in the sand of the arena floor. Then I just watched as she began to fuck herself.

The audience never stopped cheering. At the end, when Robin finished her exquisitely timed orgasm, she became the first woman, at least in the two years I'd been attending the Illinois show, to get a standing ovation. I smiled at her and took my place back by her side.

There were some more competitors, I don't really remember how many. The audience was very polite to them. But they were all taken aback by Robin's performance — including the babe with the nice rack and the Catwoman — and when the judges came out to present the divisional trophy, the audience expectantly rose to its feet once again.

"The winner of the division for MILFs with children ages eighteen and over," the announcer began, "is Robin —"

I assume he said Kennedy, but neither one of us actually heard it. Apparently, the audience assumed he was going to say it, too, because the roar from the crowd almost knocked us off our feet. The judge with the trophy smiled and headed for us, and that's when Robin turned to me and threw her arms around my neck.

"Oh my God," she cried. "We did it. We did it, Kenny! We did it!"

"We did," I patted her on the back. "Yes, we did."

She sniffled her way through the presentation, waved to the still-cheering audience, and grabbed my arm to walk out together. I saw Connie in the distance as we left the arena, and gave her a little wave. We were now officially competitors in the finals for the second year in a row. Well, she was actually Robin's competitor, but I was sure she didn't see it that way. She gave me a frosty look and turned away. I just smiled.

As the time for the finals grew closer and closer, I got more and more worried about what Allen Kennedy was planning. He must have gotten here by now; it didn't take that long to drive to Springfield. My guess was that he was standing out there, fuming, planning how to achieve maximum disruption.

Just before we went out, I took Robin aside.

"I want you to promise me one thing," I said.

"All right," she agreed.

"No matter what happens out there, even if the roof caves in, promise me that you won't lose your focus. That you'll spend the entire time we're out there, from the minute we come out of that tunnel, concentrating on one thing."

"Your dick," she said.

"My dick," I agreed.

"I promise."

She did it, too. The five finalists paraded in one after another, with Connie second and Robin last. The MILFs were naked, and as they took their place on their show pedestals in the middle of the arena, their five handlers stripped off their smocks. I watched Robin's eyes lock onto my cock. Her focus was so intense that I swear I forgot about her husband, even as we waited for all of the other finalists to perform.