College soccer may not be the great American pastime, but that did not matter in the least to Charlie and the rest of his team, the Southport Greyhounds. Fresh off a victory against their long time rival team, they were looking to celebrate in grand style. Adrenaline still ran high in the locker room, and everyone eagerly shouted suggestions, but Charlie couldn't make out a single word in all the noise.
"Quiet down!" yelled Bruce, the team captain, loud enough for everyone to stop talking. "Alright boys, that was an excellent game today, and an excellent performance means we deserve an excellent reward. Now, can I hear some real suggestions?"
"Bar!" was the first reply, from Peter, one of the team's strikers.
"Sorry, gang, can't do it," replied Bruce. "We're not all 21 yet, and I'd hate to deny anybody fun."
"Mini golf, then!" yelled Gary, to everyone's amusement.
"Something a bit more adult than that, Gary."
"Stripper mom!" yelled someone in the back. Charlie groaned inwardly.
One by one, the others joined in, chanting "stripper mom!" over and over.
"She's not my mom, you fucks," protested Charlie loudly. "My mom works as a cook."
"More like she works a cock," chortled Gary.
The whole "stripper mom" joke had started almost a month before the game. Diego, the team's goalie, claimed that he'd been at the "Honey Pot," a strip club, for his 21st birthday, and seen Charlie's mother, Stella Dawson, on the stage. Charlie knew it was nonsense, of course, but that hadn't stopped the others from their new-found obsession. Spurned on by Diego's conviction, a few others had visited the club on their own, and reported back with exactly the same words. The woman on the stage looked exactly like Charlie's mom.
Even before that, Charlie had to endure countless comments about his mother, who was, by all standards, beautiful. Because his teammates frequently pointed it out, he was perfectly aware of her full lips, round ass, large breasts, and long, shapely legs. And what they'd like to do to her, given the chance. In fact, he had heard so many taunts and obscene comments that sometimes she had even made appearances in his own fantasies while masturbating, although he was unwilling to admit that to anybody else.
It didn't help that his mother liked to pick him up after practice. He suspected she liked coming to the Greyhound's club house because his friends showered her in flattering comments. She, conscious or not, usually flirted back, saying things like, "Oh my, you boys sure are sweaty." He had asked her to stop, but she called it "harmless fun that doesn't hurt anyone." Except she wasn't the one that had to listen to what the rest of the team kept saying about her. It was unusual behavior for her, since she was usually pretty modest, and Charlie had never seen her do anything so forward.
"So, what do you say, Charlie? Should we go get your sexy MILF mother to dance for us?" asked Bruce.
"I don't think it's a good idea," replied Charlie.
"If she's really not your mom, there's nothing to worry about, right? Unless you've got something to hide..."
Charlie couldn't refuse after that, or he'd never hear the end of it. "Fine. Whatever," he said reluctantly, but a part of him was also curious to see who the woman was that supposedly looked so much like his mother. He laughed at the idea of his quiet, shy mother leading a double life.
"It's settled, then. Stripper mom it is!" roared Bruce, and everyone cheered, resuming their "stripper mom" chants. "Now go get showered, y'all smell like shit, when we should be smelling like roses, so that Charlie's mom won't refuse a lapdance."
After showering and getting dressed, they split up into several cars. A few people had bowed out, saying they weren't interested, or that their girlfriends would kill them, but there were still nine of them left. Charlie drove with Bruce, who was supposed to have been his ride home anyway. Whenever they won games, the team would celebrate well into the night, so it was easier to get a ride than for Stella to pick him up. The drive to the Honey Pot turned out to be an almost unbearable half hour of torture.
"Hey Charlie, do you remember what it was like sucking on those titties? I gotta know."
"Do you think if I pay her fifty bucks she'd let me finger her?"
"I'm gonna try sneak in my phone so I can record it. Then I can get off to his mom whenever I want. Don't worry Charlie, I'll upload it to YouTube so you can enjoy it, too."
Charlie regretted his decision to go along, but it was too late to back out now. At least the comments would stop afterwards.
They pulled into the parking lot of the Honey Pot, which turned out to be an incredibly tacky and vulgar building. Above the door hung a blinking neon sign that read "The Honey Pot," and "LIVE TOPLESS BAR" in bold letters beneath. A dirty, grimy red carpet laid on the pavement, leading to the entrance, guarded by a tall, muscular bouncer. Muffled music blared from inside, and Charlie could smell the stench of cigarettes and sweat when he approached.
They paid the cover charge, and the bouncer carefully inspected their IDs. Those in the group that were under 21 received a stamp on the back of their right hand, and an orange bracelet. Inside, the lights were dim, and the music was loud. The entire decor looked like it had been copied straight out of a movie. Red velvet sofas with tables were spread throughout the room. On one end stood a bar, and on the other end was the stage. On the stage, a young woman was in the process of taking off her bra in front of a hooting and whistling crowd. Charlie watched as she expertly danced to the beat of the song, and slowly pulled off her top, revealing a spectacular set of small but perky tits. The place was just about half full, and Bruce and Diego immediately steered towards the last empty seats right below the stage. Charlie and the others occupied some of the empty tables around the side.
As soon as they sat down, a cute brunette girl in her early twenties approached their table wearing nothing but thin lingerie, and took their drink orders. Charlie wondered what someone as beautiful as her was doing in a dump like that. He ordered a rum and coke, and the waitress took off again. He watched her butt bounce with every step, and was ready to change his mind about coming.
The topless woman on the stage kept dancing on the pole, although the song had changed. The waitress came back with the drinks. When she set his glass down on the table, she bent over forward, and displayed ample cleavage. With a wink, she flashed him a smile, and disappeared once more.
"Damn dude, I think she likes you," said Gary and nudged Charlie in the ribs.
"You think so?"
"Yeah, maybe you can get a lapdance from her. Then she can do you, and your mom can do me. Like a double date."
"Fuck off, Gary."
The song ended, and the woman on the stage ended her routine lying on her back, both legs raised high into the air.
"Give a round of applause for Candy Cummings," a voice announced through the loudspeakers, and the crowd gave her the obligatory cheers and hoots. "And give a warm welcome to Vanessa Vixen!"
Charlie watched as another woman, older this time, stepped on the stage, and started swaying in the music. It was his first time at a strip club, and he watched in fascination as Vanessa Vixen swung around the pole. She crawled around the edge of the stage, and several people, including Diego, tucked bills into her panty's waistband. She returned to the middle, then started a similar teasing routine the previous dancer had done.
Against his own expectations, Charlie enjoyed the show. As a good looking, fit athlete in college, even if it was soccer, he definitely wasn't a virgin anymore, but the few times he'd done it had been in the comfort of his own room, where he had been alone with them.
This was different. The dancers were undressing in front of a large crowd, and people basically threw money at them. In another part of the hall, a woman was shamelessly grinding her ass in a man's lap, who was thoroughly enjoying it. It was vulgar, but at the same time Charlie was aroused. Vanessa was down on all fours, showing off the thin strap that just barely prevented her pussy from being on open display to the world. He got a hardon thinking about the depravity of the situation.
Vanessa danced until the end of the song, and was replaced by Trixie, a roughly twenty year old busty girl wearing a cheerleader outfit. The cute waitress made her rounds again, and they ordered more drinks. When she brought their drinks, she glanced down at Charlie's crotch, and shot him a raised eyebrow. Charlie hastily sat up, and tried to cover the bulge in his pants, but the waitress just winked at him again.
"Damn, dude. You definitely gotta hit that ass, bro. I bet she'll do it for cheap the way she's eyeing you," said Gary.
"She's a stripper, not a hooker," reprimanded Peter.
"Whatever. A lap dance, then. Next time she's around, I'll ask her to do you. My treat."
"Please don't," protested Charlie, embarrassed enough already. Gary came from an incredibly wealthy family, so Charlie didn't feel bad about accepting his money, but he wasn't sure if he was comfortable enough for something as intimate as a lap dance in front of his friends.
"Don't worry, bro, I'll take care of it," insisted Gary. Charlie sighed.
Trixie finished her set, and the announcer ushered her out. Charlie relaxed again, and had almost forgotten the reason they had been there in the first place, when the announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, "And now, please give a warm welcome to Starlight."
Still sitting in the front row, Diego turned around, and with two thumbs in the air, yelled, "That's her! That's her!" Charlie groaned, and all around him he heard excited chatter about his "stripper mom." Gary elbowed him in the side again.
Charlie watched attentively, hopeful that the rumors would finally be squashed. The curtains at the back of the stage parted, and his mother appeared on the stage. His heart skipped a beat, and a cold shiver ran down his spine.
"Ho. Ly. Shit," said Gary, next to him.
Charlie felt like his head was about to explode. He took a deep breath, and the momentary shock seemed to pass. At first glance, the woman on the stage looked incredibly similar to his mother, but upon closer inspection, he spotted several distinctions. Sure, she looked to be about forty years old, and she had the same long, smooth legs, the plump ass, and magnificent tits as his mother, but Starlight had long, smooth, platinum blonde hair, while his mom had shoulder length, brown hair. Charlie couldn't tell for sure from the distance, but the stripper also seemed to have blue eyes, while his mother's were brown. The biggest difference, however, was that Starlight had a tramp stamp. His mother definitely did not.
"It's not her," Charlie told his neighbor, and sighed a breath of relief.
"You sure, man? Looks exactly like her."
"I think I'd recognize my own mother."
Diego got up, made his way over to Charlie's table, and sat down. "See? Told you it was her," he said, excitedly.
"It's not my mom, Diego."
"But—"
"Ok, I'll admit that she looks somewhat close, but my mother doesn't have blue eyes or blonde hair, and she sure as hell doesn't have a tramp stamp," said Charlie hotly.
"Fine, if you say so. But now we know your mom has a twin. Doppelganger stripper mom!" Diego said, visibly disappointed, and returned to his seat by the stage.
