Show Moms
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2006 by Marsh Alien

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - There have been show moms ever since there have been shows. Maybe they should just have their own show.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Teenagers   Romantic   School  

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 tomorrow 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 class was fourth. They generally went in order of age at the states 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. 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'd 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 about the conversation I'd had with some girl named Carrie, the president of the sorority, while Terry was in a back room. She'd basically told me that they were going to dump 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 minute or so longer, 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'd finished with the 6-9 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. "The whole sorority came to watch you because I told them how great my boyfriend was. And then Carrie said she'd 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. 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, 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 Seven-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 'em. Not one of them has your body."

"Really?" she looked into my eyes.

"Really," I said. "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. The division at least; the finals weren't until three. There was no way he wouldn't be here by then. But I couldn't believe that take away the divisional trophy just because her 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.

 
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