Making Mom Tap Out

"Still haven't figured anything out for the fundraiser?"

Alison sighed, annoyed by the question despite it being the root of why she'd called Brenna in the first place. "Nothing yet. I suppose I could just hop around in my Wonder Woman costume. Shake the goods a bit. Jeff hates the idea, but it's basically his fault I'm in this position anyway."

She was multitasking, talking to Brenna on speakerphone while cooking breakfast. Her husband, Jeff, had been called across the country for work, and it was just her and her son, Robbie, at the house.

"Didn't Jeff throw a fit the first year the fundraiser ran after you did that?" asked Brenna. "I seem to recall a heated and awkward argument outside in the parking lot."

"You only recall that because I told you about it. It's not like we made a scene. He just... doesn't like it if he's not in the picture, I guess. It's why we shifted to doing the mock wrestling bout for the fundraiser."

"It's not like he can blame you for a bit of flaunting on stage if he's going to be gone the entire month, anyway," said Brenna. "You certainly have the goods for it, Ali."

"Maybe ten years ago I did."

"You're so full of it."

Alison smiled and pulled her robe closed. She was aware that she was harder on her body than it deserved. The attention she'd gotten from men certainly hadn't waned in the way she'd feared it might as she'd closed in on her fortieth birthday. If anything, it'd surged.

"Anyway, it would probably mean picking another fight with Jeff," said Alison. "I just don't think it would be worth it."

The mom's community fundraiser had grown into a Riverbrook tradition over the past decade. The first year it'd been an act of desperation after a mishap with the production of their tease calendar had forced them to come up with a new driver of donations for the local kids' sports teams and food kitchens.

The idea for the calendar had been "Moms in Costume." The fundraiser which replaced it had quickly established itself as a titillating variety show, one that appealed to its targeted audience of dads and brothers and curious friends far more than anyone had expected.

Most of the acts in the live show were outright strip teases performed by familiar mothers donning the outfits of popular cinema characters. Alison had, since the second year, always done a mock wrestling match with her husband, Jeff. Wonder Woman vs The Joker, a time-honored DC classic.

"You're one of the crowd favorites, Ali," said Brenna. "Whatever it comes to, just promise me you won't sit it out."

"It might not be up to me." Alison scowled as she spoke the words, annoyed at how passive they made her sound.

It wasn't as though she didn't understand where her husband was coming from. It wasn't mindless jealousy, not exactly. They'd been together for just over twenty years. She'd been wild, once upon a time.

Before she and Jeff had begun dating, a few of his old friends had met her first. He'd been extremely protective of her around them and any other man he deemed as a threat ever since the two of them had gotten serious about one another. The attitude had stuck with him even though they'd moved halfway across the country in the time since.

"Why not use Robbie?" asked Brenna.

"Use Robbie... as in, my son, Robbie?"

"Yeah. Jeff wore that mask instead of makeup last year. Why not just teach him the routine you guys used last year and have him fill in?"

"Life isn't a sitcom, Bren," said Alison. "At least one of Jeff's coworkers knows he'll be out of town and will be there. I can't just pretend that my son is my husband for a night and roll around with him. Fuck. Phrasing. You know what I mean."

"Then don't pretend," said Brenna. "Robbie looked like he was in fantastic shape the last time I saw him. He's taller than his father, too. God, imagine him shirtless like Jeff was last year. I bet he'd be sporting lean muscle instead of a beer gut."

"He's a swimmer," admitted Alison, pride leaking into her tone. "He also works out in the off season."

"More importantly, there's no way your husband could get riled over his own son taking care of his mom in his absence. Seriously. I know it sounds silly, but I think it might be your best bet."

"I don't know if Robbie would be up for it, though," said Alison. "It's the summer. He's out with his friends or chasing girls almost every night. We'd have to rehearse like crazy to be ready in time for this weekend."

"He's already bought a ticket for the show, so it's not like you have to worry about him being elsewhere for the night in question."

"...He did?" Alison wasn't involved in the ticket sales and felt a moment of surprise. Robbie was eighteen, so it wasn't as though there was anything stopping him. It still felt a bit odd to know that he'd been so keen on seeing a tease show starring his mother and her friends as to buy an early ticket.

"I've also seen how he looks at me sometimes," said Brenna, in a teasing voice. "Being in the show would mean also being backstage, where all the women are doing quick changes and getting excited from performing."

"Bren!"

"I'm not suggesting anything," laughed Brenna. "I just think he'd be far more open to the idea than you're assuming."

"Far more open to what?" Robbie came downstairs and into the conversation.

Alison smiled affectionately at him even as she felt a little annoyed at his timing. It seemed to steal the decision from her hands to have Brenna on the phone as it was tossed out there. Not that Alison was against it, necessarily. It was just a little weird imagining wrestling her son, even in a staged sense.

"We're discussing the Moms in Costume show," said Alison. "Your father is out of town this year and Brenna got the idea into her head that you'd be the perfect replacement."

"Absolutely." Robbie smiled as he came up to her at the stove. He kissed her on the cheek and snagged one of the cooked pieces of bacon from where it was degreasing on a paper towel. She jokingly swatted his hand away as he went for a second.

"Absolutely, as in... you'll do it?" asked Alison.

"Yeah," said Robbie. "Is your friend Brenna going to be there?"

"Her friend Brenna is on the line right now," said Brenna, in a teasing voice. "Not only will I be there, but I came up with a new act. Maybe if we rehearse together ahead of time, I'll let you see it early."

It wasn't the first time that Brenna's teasing of Robbie had, in Alison's opinion, veered a bit over the line. She was surprised by Robbie's speechless reaction. He was the leader among his group of little friends, popular with the girls his age, but he clearly harbored an intense crush on Brenna. It irritated Alison as often as it amused her.

"I didn't realize you, uh... were on the line," said Robbie.

"So you don't want to see my new act?" pouted Brenna.

"No!" laughed Robbie. "I mean, yes. Definitely. Whenever. Just, uh... let me get your number real quick and I'll..."

Brenna burst out laughing. Alison smiled even as she sympathized with her embarrassed son.

"You're not getting Brenna's number, Robbie," she said, giving him a playful kick in the shin. "All communication between the two of you is to go through me, first."

"Quick, Robbie!" shouted Brenna. "Four five two, three seven--"

Alison hung her phone, smiling and once more as irritated as she was amused. She looked at Robbie, who was playing up his own mock annoyance.

It wasn't as though she couldn't understand why her friend enjoyed teasing and even outright flirting with her son on occasion. Robbie took after her grandfather, rather than either her or Jeff. He had a strong jaw, soulful brown eyes, and a broad chest.

Shirtless, as he was right now, he reminded Alison of a photo she'd found of Hermon, her father's father. It'd been an old black and white shot hidden in a photo album like a time capsule.

She hadn't realized it'd been her grandfather at first, and had spent far longer admiring the shirtless man than she probably should have until her mother had politely cleared her throat and reminded her they were related.

"Do you really want to do this show with me, Robbie?" she asked him, growing more serious. "You haven't seen it before. You might want the details before committing."

"I've heard enough, Mom," said Robbie. "I have older friends. Some of them went last year or the year before. I know it's a bit wild."

"You'll have to spend a lot of time rehearsing with me. It's all for fun but your father and I were doing some real wrestling. Well, real fake wrestling. Lots of lifts and transitions."

"You weigh like a hundred pounds," he said. "I bet I could toss you around like nothing."

She chuckled and then whooped as Robbie surprised her by wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up without much effort.

"And I know for a fact that I could pin you," he whispered.

She was only wearing her robe, and it fell open from the sudden movement. One of Robbie's hands shifted, and for an instant, it was under the fabric. It was just the tips of his fingers, and they were only touching the bare flesh of her stomach, but Alison felt it up and down her body. It made her acutely aware of how little she was wearing, her bra and panties and nothing else.

"Wonder Woman always makes The Joker tap out," she said, half breathless.

"Maybe The Joker has some new moves up his sleeve this year." He set her down, gave her one last squeeze and kiss on the cheek, and slipped past her to steal a taste of home fries. "You want to start this afternoon?"

"If you're free," she said. "Thanks."

She couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she set about fixing him an actual plate.

***

Robbie headed straight upstairs after wolfing down breakfast. He stretched out on his bed and stared at his phone, unable to believe his own luck.

He'd been looking forward to eventually witnessing the annual Moms in Costume show for years, ever since some of his older friends had tortured him with the tantalizing details of what they'd seen.

They'd talked about Brenna and the other moms, including his own, in a way that had both infuriated and intrigued him. Not only would he be seeing the show this year, but he'd be seeing it from the best possible angle.

The thought of being backstage with Brenna, possibly seeing her change or sitting and whispering with her, got him hard as fuck. Brenna, the first woman he'd ever seen naked after accidentally walking in on her after a shower. Brenna, who'd almost given him her number, even if it had clearly just been to rile his mom up.

"Brenna," he muttered, stroking his cock.

Though there was the obvious caveat that he'd be paying a hefty price of admittance. Wrestling his mother was going to be a little awkward. Hell, he'd probably be getting off lucky if it was only a little awkward.

He'd seen a couple of the photos and videos some of his friends had secretly taken of the previous shows. Her Wonder Woman costume was significantly skimpier than the ones approved and sold by the DC Universe.

He was still hard from thinking about Brenna and the fact that it didn't go down as his thoughts shifted only seemed like a teaser for more confusion to come. He got up and went to his computer desk, figuring he'd get off to some porn. If it still seemed like a good idea after he'd come, he'd go through with it.

"Robbie?" His mom's soft voice sounded at the door in the same motion as it pushed slightly open.

"Jesus, Mom!" he yelled, surprised.

"Sorry," she said.

"You just... surprised me. I'm on the computer."

"Oh."

He winced. She'd caught him looking at porn before. She and Brenna had teased him a few times about his "raging hormones" afterward. It'd been unbelievably embarrassing, but they didn't even know the half of it.

Robbie wasn't a virgin anymore, but he got so horny all the time that he still felt like one. He spent most of his nights at home watching porn, especially as of late, given how long he'd been in a dry spell for.

"Are you going out tonight?" asked his mom.

"I don't know yet. Why?"

"We should really rehearse now then, if you're up for it."

"Right now?"

"Yeah." An edge of teasing entered her voice as bad as what Brenna was capable of. "Unless you've got something else to do."

"Whatever. Be right down."

He would be right down. His erection was another matter. He took a few deep breaths as he picked out a shirt. He didn't want to wear sweatpants, given how visible dick print was through them, but if they were going to be play wrestling, what choice did he have? A minute or two of focused breathing later and he at least managed to reach a state of plausible deniability down in his man parts.

The sound of sliding furniture greeted him as he headed down into the living room. His mom was bent forward against the couch, pushing it to the wall to clear them some space.

She'd changed into yoga pants, a tank top, and a sports bra. The dueling yellow and black shoulder straps of the latter two reminded him of a bumblebee's coloring. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, the kind she only bothered with when she was heading to gym or out on a run, keen on working up a sweat.

She was still pushing the couch, butt jutting out and even flexing a bit as she put her muscle into the movement. Robbie averted his eyes, but the image was already there, burned into his retinas for at least the moment. He'd been well aware that his mom had above average sized breasts, but he'd somehow missed just how perfectly plump and toned she was around back.

"Just making sure we have room to move around." She pretended to dust her hands off as she stood up, smirking. "We don't want to be bumping into anything and everything. Still have to watch out for the TV, though."

"Is it really that involved?" asked Robbie. "What does Dad usually do, anyway? Throw you over one shoulder? Spin you around, or something?"

"What, you think we were just winging it?" she asked, with a laugh. "There's way more to it than that. Hence the need for us to rehearse."

She dropped into a wrestling crouch and her expression took on a challenging edge. Robbie smirked but felt an odd tingle of excitement as he mirrored her posture. He stole a glance at her chest. Her breasts were cupped by her shirt and bra, completely covered but still sizeable and attention grabbing.

"We'll both come out after whoever is on the microphone, usually Nate, announces us," said Alison. "Really play it up like a wrestling walk-in. Generally, they cheer for Wonder Woman and boo The Joker. Don't take it personally."

"Obviously. I'll be the nefarious Joker. The crowd's hatred will only fuel my desire to put the heroine through her paces."

"Spicy words," said his mom. "Already getting into the role. I love it."

"So what's next? Can I just start grabbing at you?"

He took a step forward, a little closer than he'd normally stand, letting her feel his presence. He was a lot bigger than her -- more than he sometimes realized. He saw his mom's smile curving at the edge like he'd done something cheeky.

"We start by facing off across from one another," she said. "Not too close. Sizing each other up. Slowly circling."

He fell into step across from her. They held eye contact for a few seconds, reaching that point where the moment had weight and it became hard to look away. Robbie could tell she didn't have her makeup on, but he'd never realized before just how naturally pretty she was, even without it.

A smile crept onto her face. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, with a laugh. "I'm just trying to picture you in costume."

"I wore it one year for Halloween. You've seen it before."

He and all of his friends. He still remembered the bruise he'd left on Kyle's shoulder after one of his jokes about his mom's supposed dick sucking lips had gotten a few too many laughs from the rest of their group.

"Let's keep going," she said. "The Joker usually starts first. You'll run at me like you're going to attack. Swing high and I'll duck low."

Robbie furrowed his brow. "Are you sure?"

"I'm the one with experience, in case you forgot. I know what I'm doing. Just be sure to telegraph the attack."

He took a few steps away from her. Their living room wasn't huge, even with the couch moved. He made a show of pulling back his arm before taking a few lumbering steps toward her. His attack wasn't fast, but it wasn't exactly slow, either.

The ease with which his mothed ducked underneath it was impressive, and she spun with a flourish as they passed by. She grinned at him as he came to a stop and turned around.

"We'll be in the old boxing gym, so we'll have the actual ring with the ropes to bounce off."

His mom hopped from foot to foot as she spoke and the word bounce struck with odd resonance. Her sports bra was doing its best, but her breasts were pretty big. Another one of his friend Kyle's annoying comments echoed through his head, this one related to oil and tit fucking.

"You look skeptical," she said, with a frown.

"More distractable than skeptical," he said. "Let's just keep going. I'll get into it."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, Mom. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know..." She shrugged and let her head hang sideways, smiling affectionately. "Thanks for doing this, Robbie. You're the best and I love you endlessly, and so on, and so forth."

"I love you too, Mom," he said, with an exaggerated sigh. "Now can we get to the part where we start throwing suplexes or dropping elbows off the bar?"

"Soon enough. We'll do a few more passes, first."

She came at him this time, charging so fast that he reacted instead of merely playing his part. His grab caught her by surprise, arm wrapping around her midriff. Trying to spin out of the motion to let her continue by only resulted in both of them falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Limbs... and various other interesting body parts.

Robbie's arm was still across his mom's chest, despite her now being on top of him and turned around. His forearm was pressing directly into her breast. It was so soft that he sighed involuntarily, as fascinated as he was intensely weirded out.

His free hand had grabbed her arm at some point, thumb and forefinger hooked around the back of her elbow. She tried to pull away and his fingers tightened automatically, some dominant reflex to hold her firm kicking in. He realized, if he wanted to, he could easily overpower her.

It was such a weird realization to trip into, literally and figuratively. His mother was smaller than him, but it was one of those facts that his brain still hadn't caught up with.

The idea of using his size advantage to overpower her or fling her around was so far from anything that'd ever crossed his mind that it made him feel like a different person to even consider it. As though he wouldn't be her son if he let it be true, nor she his mother.

She let out a laugh and wiggled around in a way that created a whole range of new problems. Her body was so soft. She seemed to have way too much exposed skin, even though it was just her bare arms and shoulders. The moment suddenly felt weird to Robbie beyond all description.

"Good!" said his mother. "You've already picked up on one essential fact. If we do get tangled or things go off script, don't just let me get away with it."

"...What?"

"You're the Joker, remember? You have to try your best to teach me a lesson. Try to keep hold of me, pin me, make me tap out. Eventually, you do have to let go so we can get back to the scripted stuff, but it's fine for us to roll around a bit."

She wiggled some more as though to emphasize her point. Her butt dragged across his crotch for an accidental instant. They both froze, and then tried to quickly move again as though realizing in unison that acknowledging it would only make it more awkward.