Help Me Ma

Virginia Mason felt worn out. She was a cashier at a grocery store which didn't believe in letting its workers sit down. And it didn't call them workers, they were 'associates', as if they spent their shifts associating rather than working their butts off.

She didn't mind the work, really, except like today when some jerk went off because they were out of the specific brand, flavor and size of potato chips he preferred, as if Ginny did the ordering and stocked the shelves, too. She offered him a free bag of another brand and he just went on a tirade. Seemed like something like that happened two or three times a week. That's what wore her out.

Most guys liked to flirt with her. She was short and cute, 5'2 with big blue eyes, a pretty smile, long brown hair and a curvy, hourglass figure; not many guessed she was already thirty-six years old. She always felt a thrill when a good-looking guy complimented her or just smiled, but she resolutely avoided dating. She still felt hurt and forlorn when she remembered the married bastard that had knocked her up all those years ago and left her to raise her son Malcolm on her own. Well, she was glad to get Malcolm out of the deal, anyway, but she couldn't bring herself to trust another man.

She entered the small house they rented and as she hung up her coat Malcolm sang out, "Ma! What's for dinner?"

She bit back the urge to scream,

Why don't you learn to cook!

Really, she loved her son but he'd graduated from high school a year and a half ago, didn't have a job, didn't want to go to college, and didn't lift a finger around the house unless she badgered him so much to do the slightest thing...well, it just wasn't worth getting into it with him.

"Let me see what we have, dear." She checked the fridge and freezer, decided she could broil some pork chops and bake some oven fries. Let's see, squash, zucchini, tomatoes, onions -- she could make their favorite veggie dish. Vanilla ice cream and fresh peaches for desert.

While she began preparations Malcolm wandered into the kitchen. "I need a new game system, Ma. Joey has a new game and we can't play it over here."

"Oh, my honey, what would that cost? Money's pretty tight right now. And we just had Christmas two weeks ago!"

"We can get it on special for just five hundred dollars."

"Five hundred! Might as well be five thousand, honey."

"Money's always tight. You need a better job, Ma."

"I know, dear. I sure wish you could get a job."

"I don't do well in interviews. I've tried."

Ginny patted his cheek. "I know dear, I was just wishing, didn't mean to criticize."

Now, in truth, if anyone had hired Malcolm they would've found him to be a solid, reliable worker. He'd applied everywhere the summer after he graduated, but the economy had been in a recession and Malcolm did not, in fact, impress anyone during an interview. And as far as he was concerned, work was something his mom did.

"You could get a job at Go-Go-Gold."

"A strip club! I can't do that, honey!"

"Your so pretty and all my friends all think you're hot!"

"You talk to your friends about me that way?!" She knew she should be outraged but instead felt a warm feeling spread over her and a blush tinged her face and neck.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Ma. You're the best looking mother in the world!" Her blush deepened, her pussy tingled and her nipples got hard. Really, she shouldn't let him talk to her that way but she was enjoying it too much to complain -- not that her complaining ever had much effect on what Malcolm did.

"I'll fill out an application for you. You're off tomorrow, you can go talk to them. You wouldn't have to be a stripper, I'm sure they'd love to have you as a waitress."

"Malcolm! I just couldn't!"

"Just talk to them, Ma. I'll do the app while you fix dinner." He left the room. Really, this was getting out of hand! He was an adult, true, but she was the breadwinner and housekeeper and...and..he just shouldn't be telling her what to do! But he always wore her down. Maybe she could throw away the application and say she didn't get the job.

But Malcolm filled out an online application, and attached a recent picture of her when she dressed up for a friend's thirty-fifth birthday. Her above the knee, light green dress showed off her shapely legs and hourglass figure without looking slutty. Actually, he'd thought about getting her to wear something sexier but decided that could wait. Just thinking about it got him hard.

At dinner Malcolm wolfed down about three times as much food as her, then said "Thanks, Ma. How was work today?"

She recounted the chip brouhaha and he said, "What a jerk. You really need a better job."

That reminded her of the strip club. The thought of being ogled by who knows how many men while she wore skimpy outfits both thrilled and terrified her. "Um, thanks, dear, it's not usually that bad, keeps a roof over our head, right?"

"Yeah, but we can't afford anything fun!" That was absurd, she paid for his video games, laser tag, super-hero movie tickets, Netflix and Disney subscriptions, road trips (usually to a game convention or live role-play event), but it distressed her to disappoint him.

The next day after lunch Malcolm said, "Time to dress for your interview!"

"Interview? What are you talking about?"

"Your job interview. At Go-Go-Gold."

"Oh honey, you don't really mean for me..."

"Come on, Ma. At least find out what they pay. Let's look in your closet."

She followed him back to her room. He went to her closet and pawed through her dresses. She didn't have much, but he found a little black number he'd never seen her wear.

"Put this on."

"Malcom! I haven't worn that in years! I doubt I can squeeze into it!"

"All the better. Put it on." He handed her the dress and stepped out to the hall. He'd really prefer to watch her. After several minutes he cracked open the door. "Ready, Ma?"

"Come zip me up." He opened the door all the way and drank in the view of her bare back and the dress hugging her spectacular rump. He was rock hard as he struggled with the zipper; she took in a deep breath and he was finally able to zip it up.

When he let go she pirouetted toward him. "How do I look?" The dress emphasized her deep cleavage, narrow waist and flaring hips; a slit up one thigh gave a hint of pale, lacy underwear.

"Fantastic, Ma! Now fix your hair and makeup while I pick out some shoes." He went to her other closet and zeroed in on a pair of silver, open-toed pumps with four-inch heels; those seemed to be the sexiest she had. He handed them to her when she finished her makeup; she rummaged in her nylon drawer for some sheer black pantyhose. She sat on the edge of the bed, looked at Malcolm and said, "A little privacy, dear?"

"No, I want to watch. You keep looking better and better!"

She gave a bit of a snort but couldn't help smiling while she pulled the nylons up her legs and wriggled into the attached panties. Malcom knelt in front of her and ran his hands up and down her legs. "Wow! These look and feel wonderful!" His touch made her shiver. He picked up the pumps and slipped them on her feet. She felt all tingly from his attentions.

She looked at her son: 5'8, long, dark brown pony tail, mustache, no beard but always a shadow, blue eyes, handsome she'd always thought, slender. Despite spending most of his time playing video games or on the computer he seemed to be able to eat voraciously without gaining any weight -- he was full of nervous energy.

He'd never dated or even kissed a girl as far as she knew. There used to be a girl, Molly, among his friends but she alone of the group went on to college, which didn't fit with their Friday game schedule. The rest of the group, five guys, all had jobs that involved working Saturdays and Sundays but allowed them to have most Fridays off.

Did Malcolm like girls? Ginny thought so; when he was younger he sometimes commented on how pretty certain actresses were. (In fact, Malcolm watched porn online when Ginny was at work or asleep. He'd never had much interest in the few girls he'd been around in high school -- none of them could hold a candle to the movie stars or porn queens he liked to watch or even his mother. He rubbed himself off against a pillow most nights.)

Malcolm broke into her musings with "All ready? I'll drive you."

"Oh, that's not necessary, dear."

"I want to, Ma. Let's go!" He wasn't going to let her chicken out. They drove to the club and he dropped her at the door; being under 21 he couldn't walk her in. "I'll wait in the lot, Ma. Go on, you look great!"

She took in a nervous breath and entered. A very large man with an anchor tattoo on one arm and a heart on the other asked her, "Job interview? Down the hall, third door on the left."

"Thank you." She walked none too quickly; the man enjoyed the view.

She entered the office. A middle-aged, balding guy with a slight paunch looked up from his computer. "Ms. Mason?"

"Yes." He gave her an appraising look, head to toes and back.

"Have a seat, I'm Frank Morris. You've had some experience waitressing?"

"A lot of years ago but I was pretty good at it."

"Any dancing?"

"I'm not, I mean, I'm only interested in waitressing."

"But on your application you said any position..."

"I changed my mind. Just waitressing." She was embarrassed and a bit put out with her son for putting her in this position but she wasn't going to admit he'd filled out the application.

"Well, we can come back to that later." A chill followed quickly by a heat flash swept though her. He smiled at her blush.

"Tell you what, I've got a girl out sick, can you work Tuesday and Thursday nights? Seven to eleven? We stay open later than that but the crowd thins out late during the week."

"Yes, that would be fine."

"Here's some forms, fill them out and leave them with me. You can use that table over there."

While Ginny was busy with that Malcolm, waiting in the parking lot, used his phone to order several web cams and associated equipment. If his sexy mom was going to be showing off her hot body in skimpy outfits he wanted to catch her on video, including dressing and undressing.

When she emerged after half an hour he looked up in time to put his phone away and enjoy watching her walk toward him. Man was she a fox!

When she got in she buckled up without saying anything.

"Well?"

"I'm supposed to work Tuesday and Thursday night." She glared at him. "Waitressing."

Malcolm laughed. "I bet they'd've hired you as a dancer!"

"I told you, I'm not going to do that. I don't think I should even do this. I think I'll call and tell him I changed my mind."

"Aw, Ma, don't do that to yourself. You can do better than that old grocery store. Give it a try anyway. You don't have to quit the grocery, right?"

"No, I guess not."

"In fact you could keep working there part-time to keep up your seniority? So no reason not to give this a try, right?"

"I suppose not."

"Aw, Ma, you're such a knockout you'll be drowning in tips."

She smiled at the compliment. Her son could seem pushy at times but he really thought she was Wonder Woman. Eat your heart out, Gail Gadot!

Malcolm drove to the freeway but then failed to get into the lane to exit for their neighborhood. "Malcolm! Here's our exit!"

"No, Ma, we need to get you new clothes for the job."

"Heavens! I haven't earned anything yet and you want me to spend money first!"

"It'll work out. You can charge the clothes and you'll get your paycheck before you have to pay the credit card." Malcolm had convinced her to go paperless and then hacked all her accounts so he knew everything about her finances. She gave him a weekly allowance which he kept in his own account.

"I suppose. I really hate charging things, though." She had filed for bankruptcy when Malcolm was just four; she'd piled debt upon debt, borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, until she was clearly in way over her head. Since then she only charged an occasional item to keep the credit card active. Amazing that anyone would offer her credit but she'd learned her lesson and always paid the card off in full.

Ordinarily shopping with his mom, and for clothes for her for crying out loud, would rank somewhere below watching asphalt dry on his list of choice activities, but Malcolm was afraid she'd settle for something too plain or conservative. He picked out a bright red dress with a scoop neck, tight waist and hip-hugging skirt that ended an inch or two above the middle of her thighs.

Ginny put it on the in the changing room, then came out to show him. "I don't know, Malcolm, I..."

"Wow, Ma! You look great!" A guy waiting for his wife gave a soft wolf whistle; the clerk said, "You kill in that dress, girl. Wish I could rock something that hot!"

"She'll take it. Now try this one, Ma." He handed her a shimmering blue number with thin, almost translucent fabric. That was also a winner. He made sure she added nylons, high heels, lacy panties and bras.

When they got to checkout she blanched at the total. Turning to Malcolm, she said "It's too much, dear!"

"Ma!", he growled. She made the purchase.

On Tuesday while she put in her hours at the grocery he set up the concealed web cams, three in her bedroom, two each in the shower and dressing area. When she got home from work she ate a quick supper of leftovers and then went to her rooms to shower and change. Malcolm used an app on his phone to fire up the cams. He then went to his PC to watch the show as she undressed, showered, shaved her legs (with plenty of pussy in view), dressed and applied her makeup. He'd never seen her naked before; watching her was a lot better than porn!

She emerged from the bedroom; he closed his PC and joined her in the hall. "How do I look? I'm so nervous!"

"Beautiful, Ma, simply beautiful. Relax, you'll do great! Shall we go?" Malcolm wanted to drive her and pick her up rather than have her going out alone to the parking lot late.

At first she felt pretty jittery but soon she got into the routine and started to feel comfortable. Then a guy pinched her bottom as she left his table. She yelped and later said something to one of the other waitresses, who rolled her eyes and said, "Part of the job, girl. Pinchers usually tip well. Spankers, even better."

Another woman added, "Wait'll you get a groper."

Ginny gasped; "What do you do?"

"Well, you can have them thrown out, or you can let them see what you'll put up with, and find out how big a tip they leave. Up to you."

The rest of the night went pretty smoothly, other than a a guy so drunk he couldn't remember the name of the drink he wanted, and got mad at Ginny for not being able to tell him. The bouncer escorted that one out the door, folded him into a cab and sent him to the address on his driver's license. Tough luck if it wan't up to date.

When Malcolm picked her up he asked "How'd you do?" It'd been a long day, working two jobs, but she caught herself before snapping at him -- that never helped -- and proceeded to count her tips. Adding in her hourly wage, the total was not very impressive, quite a bit less than she could've earned working the same hours at the grocery.

"Not too good, I'm afraid."

"Well it's your first night and Tuesday is probably one of the slowest, I bet. Good to break you in. I'll be they'e busier on Thursday."

"You're probably right, dear."

When they got to the house she unbuckled her seat belt and started to open the passenger door, but Malcolm reached over, pulled her to him, gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek and said, "Proud of you, Ma."

She squeezed his hand. "Thank you, dear." She decided she could stick it out a while and see if the job would be a good alternative to the grocery store.

Inside Ginny plopped down on the living room couch and flipped to a reality show; Malcolm headed back to his room. He brought up the video of her from earlier and began selecting shots to post online as teasers on a web cam site. When he heard her come down the hall he grabbed his phone and switched the cams back to record mode. He stroked his cock as he watched her undress and get ready for bed. When she turned out the lights he went back to the earlier video and rubbed himself off.

By Thursday evening he was all set up, with a live web cam feed to a site catering to customers in Asia who paid fees to watch live and archived footage. She had several hundred viewers and Malcolm earned more than twenty bucks -- not bad for first time out! He posted a "Be back live after midnight" notice and the audience was even larger for that session.

Friday as usual Malcolm had his role-playing group over. When Ginny got home from work she usually microwaved something for dinner and then spent most of the evening in her room, reading, listening to music or watching TV with headphones on. The group had already been at it since noon or so and would continue until around eleven.

This particular Friday, Ginny went straight to her room and changed out of her work clothes into her tightest pair of jeans and a form-fitting sweater. She touched up her makeup and strolled into the dining room where they had their game set up.

The group usually ordered pizza around dinner time, but she stepped up behind Malcolm, put her hands on his shoulders, kissed the top of his head and said, "I'm thinking lasagna. Anyone else want some?"

A chorus of "Me!" "I'm in!" and such rang out; Malcolm said, "Sure, Ma, that would be bitchin'."

"OK, then, give me an hour." She headed to the kitchen; the guys watched her leave, then she overheard snippets like "Man, she's hot!" and "What a babe!" Malcolm said, "You got that right!" She smiled all over.

With the dining room in use, Ginny put the lasagna, French baguettes, melted garlic butter, salad and styrofoam plates out on the kitchen table. Everyone filled up their plates and took them to the living room where Malcolm had set up TV trays.

The meal was a big hit; Joey took a big bite of lasagna and said, "Fuu...dge, Malcolm, your mom's a great cook, too!"

Ginny arched her eyebrows; "Too?"

Pete said, "We've been telling Malcom how hot you look."

"Well, thank you boys! Glad you like...everything." Her eyes sparkled. She hadn't told Malcolm but several of her customers had asked when she was going to get up on the stage. She wasn't about to do that but she was feeling carefree and flirtatious.

After dinner -- which the guys helped clean up -- they resumed their dungeon explorations, but Ginny found various excuses to wander by or watch. This proved a major distraction and they didn't get as far along on their campaign as expected but no one complained.

That night Malcolm switched on the cams to catch his mom undressing and getting on her night clothes. Her web audience was over a thousand viewers. Many left comments like

What a babe! When we gonna see some action?

Malcolm had to give that some thought.

Ginny worked that Saturday night. The club was crowded, the drink orders non-stop; she had several pinchers, two spankers (all good tippers) and her first grope, someone squeezing both her butt cheeks from behind. She didn't see who but someone at that table left a $40 tip.

She stayed until 2 am; her tips were excellent. She earned more than twice what she'd get at the grocery store. She worked Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday nights for several weeks, which was a strain since she was still working full-time during the day, 8 to 4 including usually two of Friday, Saturday or Sunday.

She had enough seniority to have a lot of control over her schedule. It was important to work at least 30 hours a week for the health insurance, but she cut back to only four days a week with only one of Friday, Saturday or Sunday, though since the workweek began on Sunday she sometimes still worked Saturday and Sunday back-to-back. At the club she only worked until 11 pm any time she had hours at the grocery the next day.