Joann Costa noticed a cute young man in a grey suit walk into the strip joint as she was giving a man a table dance. The boy looked about eighteen, and his hair was as blond as hers. He walked up to a table where two black strippers were sitting and flung several dollar bills at them. Grinning, they got up and removed their bras and thongs for him. The three of them went into a VIP Room for lap dances...and then some, presumably.
"Wow," she said to herself as she bent over for the man sitting behind her; he bent forward to get a closer look at her exposed pussy and asshole. "That boy over there's loaded."
Indeed, 'boy' was an appropriate word for 39-year-old Jo to use to describe him, because he looked about the age of her son, presumably still alive, whom she'd given up for adoption eighteen years ago, and hadn't seen since then.
Several table dances later, with the young man still in the VIP Room, it was time for Jo to go on the stage.
"OK, Ray," she said to the man she bent over for again. "I have to do my floorshow now." Ray paid her and left.
She put on a blue lace bra and thong, then a dark blue minidress that went only halfway between her hips and knees. She put the money away in her purse, picked it up, and went over to the stage.
"OK, gentlemen," the DJ announced as she walked on the stage with Genesis's 'Mama' as her first song, "give a big hand for this sexy lady." The young man walked out of the VIP Room at this point. "This is...Jo."
My mom's name was Joann, he thought as he approached pervert's row. Or so the people at the orphanage told me. This girl's blonde, too, just like my mom. He sat at a chair, right at the front centre of the stage; then he took out a photo from his wallet. He looked at the picture of his pretty mother from eighteen years before and said to himself, "I wish I knew her." He put the photo away.
Jo noticed the boy sitting there, putting his wallet in his pants pocket. She grinned and walked closer to him. Hey, big spender, she thought. Spend a little time with me.
He looked up at her.
His eyes almost shot out of their sockets.
What the fuck? he thought as he studied her face. I just saw that face in my photograph! He fumbled in his pocket to take out his wallet again. He took out the photo and looked at it again. "Holy shit!" he said, looking back and forth at Jo's face and the photo.
What's he doing? she thought as she saw his eyes dart back and forth at her and whatever was in his hands. She lifted her dress so he could see her crotch covered by only her thong. Then she turned around, bent over, and lifted her dress again so he could see her smooth, round ass. He put the photo back in his wallet, then he took out a wad of bills. "That's more like it," she said.
That couldn't really be her, could it? he thought. No, that'd be way too wild a coincidence. The orphanage said she gave me up because she was too poor to take care of me as a single mother, because my dad knocked her up and ran off on her. But they didn't say anything about her being a stripper. Still, I can fantasize, 'cause Mama's so beautiful in her picture. I'll never know my real mother, but if I pay this woman enough, maybe I'll know HER in the Biblical sense.
Jo unzipped her dress at the back and let it fall to her feet. She kicked it to the back of the stage, then walked toward him so he could get a better look at her in that bra and thong. His jaw dropped at the size of her big tits.
Her second song began: it was, appropriately, a longer, live version of 'Mother's Little Helper', by the Rolling Stones.
I'd like to be HER little helper, he thought. Big helper, actually.
A minute into the song, she unclipped her bra. She was standing before him, looking down and building up suspense before taking it off. She had his undivided attention. "Do you want some?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," he said, then put a twenty dollar bill in his mouth. The moment of truth, he thought as she stooped down. Please don't sag. Please don't sag.
She whipped the bra off with a proud grin and a shake of her huge, natural, NON-sagging breasts. The bill fell from his mouth when his jaw dropped again. He scrambled to pick up the dollar bill and put it between his teeth.
She wrapped her tits around his face, rubbed their soft smoothness against his face, scooped the bill with them, then tickled his face with her erect nipples. His boner was poking a bulge in his pants.
"Thank you," she said, sticking the bill in her thong.
"Thank YOU," he panted, stroking his boner.
As the song was coming to an end, she removed her thong and put his tip in her purse. She now was naked except for her high heels. She had a landing-strip shaving of her pussy.
Her third song began: 'Where Life Begins', by Madonna. Fittingly, the first thing she did was lie on her back and spread her legs for him. She raised her legs up and back so her asshole was also showing. She looked in his eyes and grinned. He mirrored her smile back to her.
Remembering how uncanny it was that her face was an exact double of his mother's in the photo, only about eighteen years older, he wondered, Did my life begin in THERE?
She slid closer to him. With her pussy now right in front of his face, she put her hands on her ass and opened it and her pussy to show him the two gaping holes. Not taking his eyes away, he took out his wallet and got two fifty-dollar bills. He put one, rolled up tight and thin, in his mouth.
She clamped the free end of it in her pussy: he felt her labia brush against his face. He let go of the bill and felt her pussy lips kiss his lips. "Ooh," he moaned, sniffing and sniffing.
He put the second bill, rolled up tight as the first one was, in his mouth. He aimed it at her gaping asshole. Using her fingers, she slowly guided the money past her anal ring by a centimetre or two, causing his puckered lips to touch the wrinkly brown orifice. He was still sniffing frantically: she was immaculate, no urine or faecal odour at all.
Her anus clamped onto the bill. Good, she thought. No paper cut.
He let go of the money after kissing her asshole like a passionate lover.
So, he's into anal, I assume, she thought, then rolled over so she was now on all fours. She crawled away from him with her ass pointing straight at him, those dollar bills still sticking out of her pussy and asshole.
The song ended, and she took the money out of her holes. She unrolled them, then gasped when she saw how much he'd tipped her.
"Holy shit," she said to herself. "Two fifty dollar bills!"
She saw him get up and approach her.
He's given me a lot of money, and more's to come, she thought. I may have to reward him with a fuck. He's sure cute enough to make fucking him a pleasure.
"Hi," he sighed with a shy smile. "My name's Eddie."
"Joann," she said, shaking his hand. "Everyone calls me Jo. How are you?" The baby I gave up for adoption I named Edward Paul, she thought. He'd have been named Edward Pass if my asshole ex-boyfriend, Rex Linus Pass, had been a man and married me, instead of running off.
"I'm fine, thanks," he said, still blushing and trying not to look below her shoulders at her still naked body.
"Thanks for the big tips, honey. Wanna go into a VIP Room with me?"
"You took the words right out of my mouth," he said.
Not bothering to put her dress or underwear on, she picked them and her purse up and led him into a VIP Room. He sat on the couch, and she sat on his pointy lap. She brushed her sweet-smelling hair across his face and looked into his eyes, a pair of blue to mirror hers. He put his hands on her hips.
