Girl Scout Mom

"Four dollars a box," Wendy said, as she eyed the stack of bills in his wallet.

He pulled out two twenties. "I'll take ten."

Wendy blinked in surprise. "Ten?!"

"Sure, glad to help a Girl Scout out. And I have to admit, I love that costume."

Wendy blushed. "Thanks, I like your suit."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that, I came straight from work," he said. "You look like you're also a businesswoman."

"Umm, no, I work as a receptionist."

"That's not what I mean, Wendy. I'm talking about the costume and cookies. You're here to do business, right?"

"Uh, I guess so?"

"The reason I ask is because that's my best friend, Pete, over there. He's getting married and this is supposed to be his stag and - as I'm sure you've noticed - it isn't going well. That's where you come in, Wendy."

"Me?"

He nodded. "There are only six of us left, and that isn't much of a party. But if you'll stay and - "

"Stay?!" Wendy said, alarm in her eyes.

"Just hear me out," Randy said. "If you'll stay and keep us company - all I'm talking about is playing a few games of pool and maybe having a shot or two - I'll make it worth your while." He reached in his wallet and pulled out two more twenties. "What do you say to ten more boxes?"

Wendy glanced between the bills and the small group standing by the pool table. Every one of them looked half her age. "I don't think they're going to care if I stay or not," she said. "I'm kind of old for this crowd."

"Are you kidding me?" Randy said, as his eyes roamed down her body. "I know they say women aren't allowed at stags, but I don't think they meant women wearing an outfit like that. It looks amazing on you, Wendy."

She blushed and glanced over again toward the small crowd and Zac. She hadn't noticed his eyes at first, it had been too dark outside, but once they were inside she realized he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. And as he caught her staring in his direction he gave her a warm smile and nodded back at her.

She brushed her hair back behind her ear and turned to Randy, eyeing the bills in his hand. "Could you make it a case of cookies?"

He grinned. "Guess what, boys, Wendy's joining the party!"

* * *

As promised, she stayed. But she did feel a little awkward, and not just because of the skimpy costume barely concealing her curves. She didn't recognize any of the music thumping from the speakers and when James, trying to make conversation, asked if she'd graduated the same year as his mom she realized she literally was old enough to be his mother.

But one place she did feel comfortable was on the pool table. She'd belonged to an eight-ball singles league in the nineties and was pleased to see she hadn't lost her touch. Her skill with a cue seemed to make even more of an impression than her outfit and the boys were soon fighting over who got to be her partner.

Randy was first and quickly turned her to his advantage; making and winning as many bets as he could. Zac was second and nearly as skilled at pool as Wendy. When he leaned close to show her a better grip, she didn't object. But her third partner was James and, obviously shy, he kept his distance.

He stayed on the opposite side of the table from Wendy and when she bent forward to make a shot it was obvious he was having a hard time keeping his eye on the ball. His gaze kept drifting to her breasts, barely contained by her tiny crop top. Wendy was in no position to object. She was having just as hard a time keeping her own eyes off the obvious bulge in the front of his jeans.

In fact, she was having a hard time keeping her eyes above any of their waists. It wasn't helping that every time she bent over to make a shot she'd feel Randy's hand patting her ass for good luck, or feel Zac's hard-on pressed against her hip as he showed her that new grip. And then there was James, the outline of his erection always right in her line of sight. The shots of booze they kept giving her probably weren't helping either.

Randy had already handed her three of them, one for each win. When he walked over with a fourth she held up her hand to stop him. "I can't drink that. I have to drive."

"Don't worry about that," he said, as he pushed it toward her. "I'll pay for a taxi to take you home."

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I've really had enough. It's time for me to go."

"What? You can't go. As soon as you leave this party is over, and it will officially go down as the worst stag in history."

Wendy glanced toward Pete, the groom. It was obvious he was still disappointed at how quickly his supposed friends had bailed as soon as the party had started heading south. "I'm sorry it didn't work out as planned," she said, "but I really don't think my being here is making it that much better."

Randy did a double take. "Are you kidding? This party would already be dead and buried if you hadn't stayed and played pool with us. But I definitely think it's time we did something to liven it up."

"We?"

He put his hand against the wall beside her and grinned. "Wendy, how would you like to sell some more cookies?"

* * *

Wendy took a deep breath. The shot of sambuca she'd slammed to try to calm her nerves still burned in her throat. She couldn't believe she'd agreed to do this.

Pete, the groom, was seated in a chair in the center of the room as music poured from the speakers. The other five members of the stag; Randy, Zac, James and a pair of beefy, red-haired twins whose names Wendy couldn't keep straight were standing in a semi-circle and cheering her on.

It had taken the promise of two more cases of cookies to convince her, but she'd reluctantly agreed to give Pete a lap dance. Randy insisted it was a stag tradition, the main reason why they'd ordered the stripper. But he promised Wendy she didn't have to actually strip. He just wanted her to put on a show.

The funny thing was Wendy knew how to give a lap dance. She'd taken lessons hoping to rekindle her marriage, but when she'd tried to surprise her husband and give him one he'd laughed.

These boys weren't laughing. All of them were circled around Wendy, their eyes glued to her as she started to gyrate to the music and sway sexily back and forth in front of Pete.

The smile that had faded when his friends left had now returned and Wendy grinned when she saw the color in his cheeks and realized he was even more embarrassed by the lap dance than she was.

She danced in front of him and every time she ran her fingers down his chest or through his hair his friends cheered. She gave herself to the music, letting it fill her senses, letting it wash away any hesitation she might have had about her costume or being too old; if she hadn't felt sexy before, she sure did now.

She took a deep breath and tried to keep her focus as the beat coursed through her. She remembered what she'd been taught; pretend you and your partner are the only two people in the world. Pete was her partner now and she brushed her fingers against his cheek as she straddled him, swaying back and forth as he smiled up at her.

She gyrated above his lap, one hand on his shoulder as she swiveled her hips inches away from his crotch. He touched his hand to her hip and when she took it and slid it behind her back and beneath her skirt a howl of approval erupted from his friends.

Pete's eyes hadn't left her face and he grinned up at her, obviously enjoying himself as he squeezed her ass. Wendy was enjoying herself too and before she knew what she was doing she'd lowered herself right against his crotch, her hands on his shoulders as she gyrated against the rock-hard length pressed between her legs.

The cheers behind her were deafening but she ignored them as she gave herself to the music, lifting her dark, wavy hair above her shoulders as she swayed to the beat. Both of Pete's hands were now beneath her skirt and he squeezed her firm cheeks as he rocked her back and forth, rubbing her panties against his erection.

Wendy's breath was coming faster. Her heart was pounding. She'd forgotten how hard a young guy could get. It felt like she had an iron bar pressed between her legs and she was completely oblivious to the other eyes watching as she ground herself against him.

Pete grinned up at her as he slid his hand lower, his fingertips tracing the edge of her panties. When she didn't object he went even further.

Wendy caught her breath, shuddering as he slid his fingers between her legs and rubbed them against the thin fabric barely covering her pussy. She couldn't remember the last time her husband had touched her like this, and she couldn't help herself as she knotted her fingers in Pete's hair and pulled him close, between her breasts.

He rubbed his face against her tits and the soft fabric of her tiny white crop top. Then he found the knot and when he pulled on it with his teeth her top fell open.

Wendy gasped. Her breasts were completely exposed. Pete immediately bent to one and brushed his lips against it, exploring her sensitive flesh with his mouth as he continued to rub her pussy through her panties.

Wendy moaned and ground herself harder against his erection, wishing his jeans weren't between them, wishing she could feel his naked cock pressed against her flesh. He teased her rock-hard nipple with his tongue and she tightened her grip on his hair, keeping his mouth right where she wanted it.

She knew he was still young, but she didn't think she'd ever felt a cock as stiff as the one trapped between her thighs. She lifted his shirt and slowly slid her hand down the front of his pants, grazing her fingernails against his abdomen until she reached his boxers. She slid her fingers beneath the waistband and leaned closer, her breasts pressed against him as she tried to find the right angle so she could get her hand right inside his underwear, so she could see if his cock was really as hard as it felt. And then the music stopped.

The silence jolted them both back to reality and Wendy yanked her hand out of his pants and scrambled off his lap, covering her exposed breasts with her arm as she tugged her panties back into place. Pete also leapt to his feet, turning his back as he tried to hide his obvious erection.

The five spectators had watched mutely as the action escalated, but now they exploded into applause, hooting and hollering as they crowded around the groom to congratulate him. All except Randy; he went to congratulate Wendy.

"Wow," he said. "That was the hottest lap dance I've seen in my life! Are you sure you've never done this before?"

Wendy blushed with embarrassment as she fumbled with her crop top, trying to get it tied back up again.

"Let me help," Randy said, and moved her hands away. He took hold of the loose ends of her shirt and pulled them apart to fix them. Wendy's top was wide open, her breasts on full display. He stared openly at them while he straightened the ends of her crop top, and she was surprised to find herself letting him.

"You've got an amazing body, Wendy," he said, and then deftly tied her top back up so her breasts were covered once more.

"Thanks," she said.

"Anytime, always glad to lend a hand," he said, and brushed the back of his fingers against her stiff nipple, protruding through the thin cotton fabric.

Wendy shuddered at his touch. Her eyes dropped down, below his waist, where the thick outline of an erection was showing through his dress pants. She wondered if he was as hard as his friend had been, wondered what he'd say if she pressed her hand against the front of his pants to find out.

"Shots?"

Wendy started as Zac appeared beside them.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just dizzy. That dance left me a little light-headed."

"It left us all a little light-headed," he said with a smile. "Did you want another shot?"

"Oh god, no, I've already had way more than I should have." As if to emphasize the statement she wobbled sideways on her high heels.

"I've got you," Zac said, as he grabbed her around the waist to steady her.

"Thanks, it just seems so hot in here all of a sudden."

Zac's position was doing nothing to lower Wendy's temperature. He was directly behind her with his hand pressed against her bare midriff, just below her breasts. But that wasn't nearly as distracting as the hard-on pressed firmly against her ass.

Wendy ran her tongue across her dry lips, fighting the temptation to slide her fingers down to his cock. "Did you like the dance?" she whispered, as if the thick length wedged between her cheeks wasn't enough of an answer.

He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer. And while he kept her ass pinned against his erection Randy stepped close, his own hard-on now only inches away from Wendy.

He brushed his fingers against her stiff nipple again, teasing it through the thin fabric, and Wendy trembled at the touch. He grinned. "I think it's time to really get this party started. There's just one other stag tradition I hope you can, umm, help us out with."

He leaned close and whispered in Wendy's ear.

Her eyes went wide. "How many cases of cookies will you buy if I do that?!"

* * *

Wendy stood in the center of the room with Randy beside her. Pete and the rest of the stag were circled around them. If she'd been surprised when she'd agreed to give the groom a lap dance, that was nothing compared to how she felt now.

"Gentlemen," Randy announced, "I want to thank each and every one of you for staying to help celebrate my good friend Pete's upcoming nuptials. And as part of the celebration, Wendy here has graciously agreed to perform one last vital task. Pete, buddy, you're about to get your last blowjob as a single man."

The hoots and whistles that erupted from the small group flustered Wendy. She was already embarrassed at what she'd agreed to do and their enthusiasm turned her cheeks even redder.

Randy had insisted the blowjob was a stag tradition, like a last cigarette for a condemned man. The details had already been worked out with the original stripper, who had also offered to suck off anyone else who might be interested for fifty bucks a pop.

Randy wasn't asking Wendy to do that but he had offered, if she agreed to take care of the groom, to buy four cases of cookies in return for the favor.

Wendy had been hesitant at first. She couldn't even remember the last time her husband had wanted oral. So why would a guy as young as Pete be interested in a blowjob from her? He was about to marry a beautiful blonde half Wendy's age.

But then she remembered the lap dance; his hands beneath her skirt; his mouth on her breast. His cock had been so stiff. So she'd agreed to suck him off. After all, it was a tradition. There was only one problem.

"No way," Pete said, stepping back from his friends as if worried they might try to grab him. "Not a chance. Not happening."

"Come on," Randy said. "She's already agreed!"

Pete laughed and shook his head. "There is no way I'm letting her give me a blowjob. No offense, Wendy, you're a beautiful woman and that lap dance was...wow. But if I do what Randy is asking...believe me, we won't need a wedding; we'll need a funeral.

"I warned Lori there was going to be a stripper, and I know I might have got carried away during the lap dance - by the way, thanks for all those shots, guys - but there's no way I'm letting you give me a blowjob. I won't do that to Lori a week before our wedding."

Randy rolled his eyes. "Pete, buddy, no one's ever going to know!"

"I'll know," Pete said. "Sorry, Wendy."

She wrung her hands behind her back, embarrassed at having even agreed to go along with Randy's plan. "Don't apologize, I completely understand. Believe me, I know from firsthand experience your fiancée's lucky to be marrying a guy like you."

"Thanks," Pete said, "and I appreciate the offer. It's just that, like I said I can't accept it. That's why my best man is going to have to take the bullet for me."

A roar of approval exploded from Randy and the rest of the stag. All except James, who stood stunned as the meaning of his brother's words sunk in. "Who? Me?!"

The rest of the stag rushed forward to grab him before he could get away. "Your brother's right," Randy said. "You're the best man so this is your responsibility now, kid."

James stared at Wendy like she was a praying mantis about to devour him. "No thanks," he squeaked, and fought to pull his arms free. But the beefy, red-haired twins ignored his half-hearted struggles as they dragged him like a sacrificial virgin down the hallway toward the nearest bedroom.

Wendy, however, turned in the opposite direction and headed toward the stairs.

"Whoa! Where are you going?" Randy said, as he grabbed her arm.

"I'm leaving."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not going to force him. You heard him, he isn't interested. And why would he be? I'm old enough to be his mom."

Randy did a double take. "Are you kidding me? You're that kid's wet dream. He's just too shy to say so. Trust me, he'll probably come in his pants the second you open that bedroom door."

Wendy glanced down the hallway where the twins were laughing as they easily held the door closed while James tried to pull it open. "I don't know."

"You have to," Randy said, "even if all you do is sit in there and talk to him for ten minutes. Because if you don't, if he blows this opportunity and you walk out that door...trust me, the kid in that room is going to hear about it for the rest of his life."

* * *

Wendy opened the door. James was on the bed and he leapt to his feet, babbling out a stream of excuses for why she didn't need to bother giving him a blowjob. She smiled and held up her hand to stop him as she shut the door behind her.

"It's okay," she said. "We're not going to do anything you don't want to. But if we walk out of this room now they'll know we didn't go through with it and I lose out on four cases of cookies. So do you mind if we just sit here and talk for ten minutes so they think we did? Can you do that for me?"

James nodded and sat down on the bed. Wendy went to sit beside him and he hurried to create space between them.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going to attack you."

He smiled nervously and Wendy rubbed his back to reassure him as she stared at the walls of the room, plastered with pencil sketches and inked drawings.

She said, "Is this your bedroom?"

"Sort of, it's supposed to be a guestroom but my parents let me use it to work on my art."

Wendy leaned closer to get a better look at the intricate artwork lining the walls. "You did these drawings?"

He nodded.

"They're really good. What are they? Superheroes?"

"It's, uh, manga actually. Japanese comics."

"Oh, do you have any others you can show me?"

He hesitated a second and then pulled a folder from the bottom drawer. Inside, there was a collection of detailed sketches and Wendy arched an eyebrow as she flipped through the drawings. Many were of wide-eyed fantasy girls positioned so their panties peeked out from beneath their tiny skirts as their oversized breasts threatened to spill out from their undersized tops.

She couldn't help noticing the similarity between their costumes and the one she had on, and when she glanced over at James she saw his eyes were glued to her breasts.

She closed the folder and carefully laid it on the bed beside her. "Do you want to see them?"

"Pardon me?" James said.

"My breasts, I saw you looking at them. Maybe a closer look might help you with the anatomy for your drawings. We have ten minutes to kill. Do you want me to take my top off?"

He swallowed hard and licked his dry lips. "Umm, yeah, sure, that's cool. I mean, if you want to."

Wendy smiled as she undid the knot and opened her crop top, sliding it off her shoulders as she placed it neatly on the bed beside her. James eyes nearly bugged out as he ogled her body, now naked from the waist up.