When I got home late Saturday night, Mom was sitting at the kitchen table. I said to her “Geez, Mom I’m 25 years old now, you don’t have to wait up for me.”
“I know, son,” she said. “I went to bed, but I had trouble sleeping. I couldn’t relax”
Judging from the half empty bottle of scotch in front of her, she was probably good and relaxed now. Mom looked sexy sitting there in her Chinese silk pajamas. The fabric was thin and as she stood up her large breasts swayed, causing the material to move. “I guess I’ll go to bed now.” she said.
Mom was 46 years old but still quite attractive. She had put on a few pounds but not much. Her ass was a little bit bigger than it used to be, but then again so were her tits. I would often catch my friends checking her out when they thought I wasn’t looking.
Mom had been divorced ever since I was a kid. She’d had a number of boyfriends over the years. The last guy moved out about six months ago. It was then that I moved back home temporarily.
I had a little bit of a buzz on from the bar and it made me feel like talking. I told her that I had come up with an idea and that I wanted her opinion. She sat back down, poured herself another drink and asked me to tell her about it.
I told her that a guy I knew had started working at Danny’s. Danny’s was a bar with male dancers that catered to women. He was making a couple hundred bucks a night.
“Some of the girls at the bar tonight told me that I should try it too.” I said. “What do you think/”
I was expecting her to tell me that it was a dumb idea. Instead she thought about it for a minute and said, “Well, you’ve certainly got the looks for it, honey, but wouldn’t it bother you taking off your clothes in front of a crowd?”
“That wouldn’t bother me, Mom, the only thing I’m worried about is whether I can dance well enough.” .
At this, her face lit up and she said: “I’ve been to Danny’s and watched them dance. I can teach you how.”
She went into the living room, started the CD player, and came back into the kitchen.
“You mean now?” I asked laughing.
“Absolutely.” she said enthusiastically. “I’ve always wanted to dance like that but I was too chicken when I was younger, and now I’m too old.
“Mom,” I said, “You’re still beautiful enough to be a dancer.” She blushed and gave me a big smile and said: “Thank you, honey, you’re sweet.” She was slurring her words a bit now. “Jus’ for that I’m gonna give you a great show.”
The song she had picked was Prince’s “Cream.” I turned my chair around to face her as she started to dance. She was wearing her silk pajamas and as her body swayed I could see the outline of her big breasts as they pushed against her top. As she bent over at the waist in front of me, I looked down the opening of her blouse and saw her tits hanging down. She quickly straightened up and laughed, obviously getting a kick out of being a tease.
I said to her, “This isn’t right, Ma. In a bar you wouldn’t be wearing a big blouse like that.”
She pretended to be shocked and said, “What are you suggesting, young man? I’m showing you how to dance, not giving an anatomy lesson.”
I didn’t want her to stop, so I backed off a bit, “I just mean couldn’t you tie your shirt instead of having it buttoned?”
She seemed to like this idea and turned her back to me while she unbuttoned her pajama top and tied the ends in a knot under her breasts. When she turned back I could see her stomach – not flat, but not big either. Just round and soft and sexy. Tying the shirt also created more cleavage, giving me a better view of her breasts. Best of all, her pajama bottoms were slung low on her hips and I could detect some wisps of pubic hair at the top of her bush.
Mom was really getting into her dancing now and I was responding. I was wearing jockey shorts and my hardening cock was caught in an uncomfortable bind. Mom noticed my problem and instead of being offended, she acted flattered. She smiled a slightly tipsy smile at me and said, “Looks like you need to make an adjustment, son.”
At this I blushed, but my discomfort overcame my embarrassment and I reached down and straightened out my cock so that it lay against my stomach. “You’re doing great, Mom.” I said.
“I can tell that you mean it” she said laughingly as she continued to stare at my crotch.
Her words made me bolder and I decided to see how far I could push things. “In a bar you wouldn’t be wearing pants.” I said.
“That’s true, honey, but I don’t have a G-string.” she said in a soft, sexy voice.
“Well,” I said “You do have panties.”
At this Mom gave my face a very light, playful slap. “Stay right there.” she said. The song was ending and she went back in the living room and started it again. It took her a few extra moments to come back, and when did I saw that she had changed out of her pajama bottoms and into some panties. They were a light cotton material and cut high at the hips. The panties were tight and I could see the outline of her pubic mound. She looked so sexy I thought I would come in my pants right then.
“How’s this, Mr. Critic?” she said.
“Wow!” was all I could think to say, but it must have been the right response because Mom smiled from ear to ear, then turned around and bent over, tossing her long hair back and forth to the beat. The cotton fabric strained against her mound and I could see that her pussy lips were swollen – just like my cock. She obviously enjoyed putting on this show.
When she turned around to face me, she moved in close and put her hands on my shoulders while she rolled her hips. She was breathing hard and I could smell the scotch on her breath. I reached out my hands to take her around the waist but at this point she moved her hips back out of reach and teasingly said, “No, no, no! The customers aren’t allowed to touch the dancers.”
“They are if they tip them.” I said. Then I pulled a dollar bill out of my pocket. I reached forward and tucked it into the side of her panties. I didn’t stick it down the front in her bush like I would with a real topless dancer because I thought Mom might object.
“I like this!” Mom laughed. “How do I get more?”
When Mom had moved her hips back while keeping her hands on my shoulders, it had caused her to bend over more at the waist. From my seat I could look directly down the cleavage of her knotted blouse. Her tits were swaying back and forth. Either the friction against the silk or the sexual charge of the situation must have gotten to her because I could clearly see her nipples sticking straight out where her breasts strained against the fabric.