Mom, Aunts & Gran are Strippers Ch. 02

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As if he was a paying customer instead of her son, he gave her a long, hard look. He gave her his best hypnotic stare while hoping that he could make the impressions of her nipples magically appear in the way his grandmother's nipples always magically appeared. Not only would he love to see his mother's naked breasts but also, he'd love to suck her nipples, too. Now that he knew she was a blowjob queen; he'd love to fondle his mother's big tits while she stroked and sucked his erect dick.

Determined to embarrass and humiliate her, he wanted her to know that he knew her sexy, secret life. Even though she was his mother and he loved her and hated her at the same time, he wanted her to know that he knew about her checkered past. He wanted her to know that he no longer held her in the high regard that she held herself. If anything, knocking her off of her self-imposed, high pedestal, he now thought of her more as a whore than as a lady.

'Whore! You dirty whore! Once a slut, always a slut,' he thought. 'You can put lipstick on a pig and dress them in designer clothes but they're still a pig, nonetheless.'

As if she was sitting across from him naked, giving her his best perversely perverted leer, he wanted her to catch him undressing her with his eyes. Usually looking away whenever she caught him looking and/or staring, not looking away now, he leered at the impressions her big breasts made in her tailor-made blouse before staring down at her shapely legs. Now, he knew why his mother, his aunts, and his grandmother all had the shapely and sexy legs of dancers because, in another life, they were all dancers, exotic dancers.

Not sure how to ask her his questions while rephrasing them over and again in his mind, there was no way to ask his mother his sexually inappropriate questions without coming across as immorally crass. Yet, now that he knew what his mother once was and hopefully still is a whore, he was sure that she had heard much worse. Not wasting time beating around the bush, getting right to the point, he was determined to ask her the questions that he needed to ask and was most curious to know.

"Mom," he asked while giving her a soft, loving smile?

She looked up from what she was reading to give him her full attention. He wondered if she was going to grant his request. He figured she'd give him a hard time before he confessed the secret, sexual dirt that he had uncovered on her to tell her friends. Threatening to ruin her life, he hoped that once she realized that he was serious about broadcasting all that he knows, she'd give him whatever he wanted, and what he wanted was incestuous sex.

"Yes, Val. What is it, Sweetie?"

'Sweetie,' he thought?

He always hated it when she called him Sweetie instead calling him by his name. Actually, she did call him Val just now. Most times, she just called him Sweetie.

A pet name given to him as a child even though he was now an adult, it was embarrassing for his mother to continue to call him Sweetie especially when in a roomful of people. How would she like it if he called her whore or cocksucker? She wouldn't think him so sweet when he told her all that he knew about her salaciously, sinful past of her, her two, whore sisters, and even her whore mother.

'Surprise! Your secret is out, Mom. I know you were once an exhibitionist, a stripper, a talented cocksucker, and a VIP room whore,' he thought.

He thought carefully how to confront his mother to get what he wanted without upsetting her enough for her to retreat from him. Since this was still her house and he was now an adult, the last thing he wanted was her to ask him to leave her house. What he wanted instead was her sexual cooperation. As a sign of sexual cooperation, a little exhibitionism would go a long way in sexually appeasing him.

'So, Mom, tell me,' he thought while imagining saying what he was thinking to her. 'Other than for the money, why did you decide to become a stripper? Are you an exhibitionist? Did you masturbate after flashing yourself to unsuspecting men? Did it sexually arouse you to show a multitude of men your naked breasts, your naked pussy, and your naked ass?'

Depending on how she answered or didn't answer his questions, whether she answered his questions or not would set the stage as to how the rest of their conversation would go. He ran the questions through his mind again before asking them. As if rehearsing a script, he didn't want his mother to hate him any more than she already did. Instead, he wanted her to love him and make love to him.

'Tell me. I'm curious to know. Were you embarrassed or sexually aroused the first time you stripped yourself naked while dancing around a pole in front of a roomful of horny men,' he imagined asking her?

While wondering what she'd say or wouldn't say, he practiced his next question.

'Tell me, were you embarrassed or did you become sexually aroused when removing your clothes, or was it just a job,' he imagined asking her? Taking his sexually, inappropriate questions to an extreme, he imagined probing deeper with his crass questions. 'Were your nipples erect and your pussy wet when you were dancing around a pole while undressing?'

He wondered what she'd say in response to his sexually, inappropriate questions.

'Tell me, I'm so curious to know, what do they do in the VIP rooms at strip clubs? What did you, your sisters, and your mother do in the VIP rooms,' he imagined asking and personally probing deeper? 'While giving men private lap dances, did you allow them to touch you and feel you for money? Did you give men hand jobs and blowjobs in the VIP rooms? Did you have sex for money in the VIP rooms?'

Expecting a violent response or no response at all, he wondered what she'd say after he sexually interrogated her. He wondered what she'd do after he asked her such inappropriate, sexual questions. Would she finally come clean and tell the truth about her colorful past or would she continue to lie? Or after he revealed the truth about her past, would she ask him to leave her house?

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This was it. This was really it. He was going to let his mother know that he knew she was no lady. He was going to let his mother know that he knew she worked as a stripper and was a whore. He was going to let his mother know that he knew that sucking cock was her God given talent, her special, sexual skill, and that he knew that she loved sucking men's pricks for money. Now, every time he looked at his mother, he imagined her holding a naked prick in her hand or sucking one in her mouth.

'Whore,' he thought when looking at his mother now! 'Whore!'

Wishing he had a stiff drink before he sat to talk to his mother, he took a big breath for courage. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he asked her his sexually, inappropriate questions. Knowing she wouldn't answer his questions truthfully, he wondered how she'd skirt the issue. No doubt, she'd pretend that she didn't know what he was talking about. Yet, armed with everything from her secret trunk and her topless and naked photos to her detailed diary, he had plenty of supporting documentation and evidence of her sordid, sexual past to justify his questions.

'Having nothing to lose and everything to gain, here I go,' he thought.

His only downfall, he hoped that she didn't ask him to leave her house. Fearing that it may come to that, part of her divorce settlement, this was still her house and in her name. With him no longer a child but an adult, she could ask him to leave at any time. With her the selfish and self-centered, raving bitch that she is, confronting her could backfire. With her able to afford a staff of attorneys filing defamation of character and extortion lawsuits, and with him not yet having the money to defend himself, she could make his life a holy, living Hell.

Yet, deciding that hopefully having sex with his mother was well worth the risk of being asked to leave and/or being sued, he could always move in with his grandmother. His grandmother would not only take him in but also, no doubt, would allow him to sleep in her bed. If he couldn't blackmail his mother and/or his aunts, if he couldn't have sex with any of them, he'd settle for having sex with his grandmother. He took a big breath for courage before asking her all that he needed to know.

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"I'm curious to know, Mom," he said staring at her crossed legs before looking up at her blouse and bra clad breasts. Starting out small, as if he was having a normal conversation with his mother, he asked his first, sexually inappropriate question as if he didn't have ulterior motives and wasn't even thinking of having sex with her. "What color and type of panties and bra are you wearing, Mom," he asked while giving her his best, innocent smile?

As if he had slapped her across her face or thrown a glass of water all over her beautiful, silk blouse, she looked at him stunned and speechless. As if he had torn open her blouse and groped her bra clad breasts, as if he had lifted her skirt and felt her panty clad ass and fingered her pussy, she looked at him as if he had sexually assaulted her. Seemingly not knowing how to respond to his sexual question regarding the type and color of her underwear, immediately, as if she was insulted and, obviously, she was, she copped an attitude.

Only, now that he saw her topless and naked pictures, and read her personal and very private diary, he knew her for the whore that she was and not the lady that she pretended to be. Now that he saw the topless and naked photos of his aunts and his grandmother, he knew that they all were strippers, exhibitionists, and VIP room whores. Unless she was forced to strip by given drugs and/or for drugs, other than being desperate for money, no normal, modestly, moral woman would become a stripper and a prostitute.

Never knowing much about his mother before, now that he knew so much more about her sexual past and her character, he knew her so much better. He not only knew her for the exhibitionist she was but also for the whore that she had become. Yet, a tough nut to crack, he knew it would be hard to have his wicked, sexual way with his mother. No doubt, in the way that he wanted to have incestuous sex with her, clearly, she didn't want to have forbidden sex with him.

Besides, with her already having been there and done all of that with so many different men, what was her motivation for her to have sex with him? His ace in the hole was his father's reputation. If she wanted to continue living in this house and continue living her lavish lifestyle, she'd capitulate and give him what he sexually wanted and what he wanted was to have illicit sex with his mother's naked body.

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"I beg your pardon," she said as if she was a socialite or a royal and he asked to see her tits?

With him finally having the upper hand, he smiled before repeating his question.

"What color panties and bra are you wearing? I'm curious to know," he said while helping her along with his next, sexual question. "Which type of panties are you wearing, bikini panties, thongs, hipsters, French cut panties, Brazilian briefs, or a G-string?" Not stopping there, he continued his verbal, sexual assault of his mother. "What type bra are you wearing, push up bra, padded bra, T-shirt bra, convertible bra, strapless bra, or shelf bra?"

With her eyes already bulging out of her head and her mouth hanging open in shocked surprise, she looked at him as he had been drinking. Yet, with the questions more for him than they obviously weren't for her, just asking his mother about the color and type of bra and panties she was wearing gave him an erection. Now that he knew she was a talented cocksucker made him want to walk to her, unzip himself, pull his prick from his pants, and forced his erect cock in her mouth.

He imagined reaching behind her head and pulling her hair hard enough for her to open her mouth to scream. If she refused to open her mouth and take his stiff prick inside, he imagined pinching her nostrils together until she opened her mouth to breath. Then, filling his mother's mouth with his erect prick, he imagined holding a heavy hand to the back of her blonde, pretty head. He imagined humping her mouth and fucking her face until he exploded a load of cum in her mouth, his mother's mouth, and she swallowed his cum.

"How dare you ask me such sexual questions about my lingerie," she asked in anger? "What's wrong with you, Val, to suddenly be so offensively disrespectful?" She looked hard at him in the way he had been looking hard at her. "Have you been drinking? Are you on drugs?"

Then, taking control of her temper, obviously, surprising even herself, he had pushed her stripper buttons. With his money on his mother, he wondered who would win in a stripper catfight between her and her two sisters. He'd love to watch his mother and his aunts fighting while ripping off their clothes and stripping themselves naked. He wanted to apologize for asking his mother such sexually inappropriate questions but, not sorry for his disrespect, he didn't apologize. Instead, he watched her fuming while self-imploding.

"You shouldn't ask a lady what color and type of panties and bra she's wearing," she said as if he had slapped her. "And you should never ask your mother about her undergarments," she said with a phony smile. "You've not only embarrassed me but also as if you're undressing me with your eyes, you're making me feel uncomfortable by your continued, sexual leer."

'Lady my ass,' he thought while smiling at her again. 'Uncomfortable?' You haven't heard nothing yet, Mother. 'Whore! Slut! Cocksucker!'

He gave her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Mom, I wasn't thinking," he said with a grin before sexually insulting her again.

She waved her hand as if all that he said was no big deal.

"It's okay," she said. "You didn't mean anything by it."

Obviously, with her thinking that he was finished sexually offending her, he was just beginning to shock his mother by slowly revealing her sexual past. He leered at her again as if she was sitting across from him naked. He leered at her again while imagining having sex with his mother.

"Perhaps, you're embarrassed to tell me the color and type of panties that you're wearing because you're not wearing panties," he said staring at her legs. "Is that it, Mom, you're not wearing panties? Are you sitting across from me with your naked pussy? Yet, by how high your breasts are, you appear to be wearing a very supportive bra," he said while staring at his mother's blouse and bra clad breasts.

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With her able to turn it on and off, he wondered what she was like around her paying customers. He wondered what she was like in bed. He wondered what she looked like and sounded like when having a sexual orgasm. Then, as if she was rethinking what he had just asked about her not wearing panties, sitting across from him with her naked pussy, and wearing a very supportive brassiere, in an instant, she became angry again.

"Oh, my God! Val! What's wrong with you? Why would you dare ask me, your mother, such rude and vulgar, sexually charged questions? Placing you in the best, private schools, I brought you up better than that. I can't believe you turned out to be such a perverted, sexual pig," she said. "How dare you ask me such perversely perverted, personal questions about my undergarments?"

'Brought me up? Perverted, sexual pig he thought? There's only one perverted, sexual pig in this room and it's not me, Mother,' he so wanted to say but not wanting her to leave the room in disgust or ask him to leave her house, he didn't. Instead, he remained quiet while thinking of what he was going to say to her next.

Giving credit to his nannies and to his teachers, she didn't bring him up, he brought myself up. Shuttled from private, boarding schools and to prep school before going away to college, he only saw his mother briefly on holidays. With her jet setting here, there, and everywhere, always so busy traveling and inaccessible even when she was home, he hardly knew her. Attending this function or this party, she was always too busy for him.

With them all strangers to him, he saw his aunts and his grandmother even less. Yet, he liked his grandmother a lot. He loved her more than he loved his mother and/or his aunts. Much like his aunts, his mother was a selfish, raving bitch. His grandmother was kind, loving, fun, and sexy. Instead of living with his mother, if his mother asked him to leave her house, he'd live with his grandmother if he could, and if she'd have him. If not, he'd move in with a friend.

Resetting himself while rethinking what he was going to say next, he took a breath and relaxed. Not giving her control of the conversation, she wasn't going to upset him in the way that he hoped to and had already upset her. Now that he was home for good, with him gone and out of her way all day, she wanted him to work for his father. Yet, he needed a break before he started working for the next forty-years of his privileged life. As if he was the cat who ate the canary, he smiled at her again.

"Why would I ask you such rude and vulgar, sexually charged questions?"

He laughed. Because you're a whore, he wanted to say. Yet, not wanting to unduly antagonize his mother, he didn't say that either. Instead, he needed her cooperation in her giving him what he wanted and what he wanted from her was sex, incestuous sex.

"Yes, why? Why all of a sudden are you acting like this. I'm curious to know," she said.

He smiled at his mother while sexually staring at her. Giving her the eye, with her not wearing very much, skirt, blouse, bra, and panties, he continued to strip her naked. Now that he knew about their pasts, he'd love to play strip poker not only with his mother but also with his aunts and his grandmother. Even if he lost, he'd win.

"Because I've been going through your lingerie drawer, Mother," he confessed with an exasperatingly, long pause while making eye contact with her. "You have such beautiful and sexy underthings," he said ready to shock her further by his forthcoming, sexual confession.

Obviously not knowing how to respond to his rudeness, she looked at him with shocked confusion.

"Pardon? I'm sorry. What? You've been going through my lingerie drawer?"

Obviously, trying to calm her stripper temper, she took a breath and paused to look at him.

"Yes," he said. "It sexually excites me to touch and feel your panties and bra while imagining you wearing them," he said.

As if she was accustomed to hearing such sexual confessions, she looked at him without showing any emotion.

"Well, thank you for complimenting me on my lingerie, I think, but why have you been invading my privacy by going through my things," she asked? She stared at him while waiting for him to reply. Then, when he didn't reply, she continued. "Where are you going with this, Valentino?"

When she called him Valentino instead of Sweetie or Val, he knew he was getting to her. She only called him Valentino when she was angry. Obviously, he was no longer her Sweetie. Perhaps, surmising what was coming next, instead of sexually arousing her, he had upset his mother.

He pushed the ottoman away with his foot and leaned forward in his chair as if he was about to hand her a hundred-dollar-bill for a lap dance. Yet, knowing the caviar and champagne taste of his mother, she'd probably charge a thousand-dollars for a lap dance. If he wasn't her son but some John, he wondered what she'd charge him for sex. Even the cost of a good stripper and a decent whore goes up with inflation.

"Sometimes, when I'm horny and I know you'll be out late, I go through your lingerie drawer," he said while fingering the head of his cock through his pants in front of her. "I take a different set of your bra and panties to bed with me. I masturbate over them while imagining you wearing them and modeling them for me. I masturbate myself while imagining you naked and having sex with me," he said. "I ejaculate in a tissue while imagining ejaculating cum in your mouth and/or in your pussy."