Mom's Missing Heel (Ext. Edition)

Performing a sex act in front of her son was going to be weird, but she took comfort in knowing her Comic-Con plan was the safest option, and it didn't involve anything she hadn't done before. Plus, there was an undeniable allure to the idea of going to a world where she was free to wear a costume like hers in public.

Spencer jerked off in the study, riding the high of making a once-in-a-lifetime deal with his mom.

*****7

Already, Spencer was overlooking his Friday visit to San Diego with his friend Chris. The gut-wrenching and shameful part of the deal was calling his friend Zach and telling him he had gotten grounded for drinking too much at a party and had to sell his Comic-Con tickets for Saturday. Zach was bummed, but Spencer promised to make it up to him with a camping trip to Lake Tahoe. Family has to come first, he thought, trying to assuage his guilt.

Moving on, Spencer focused on more positive thoughts. Like what he was going to wear to the convention. The original plan was to wear nerdy t-shirts and shorts on both days. He was a nerd, but he didn't dress up as his favorite characters. Cosplaying was his line in the sand. The fantasy of matching his mom and making it look like they were together, however, was changing his view.

Star Wars was irrelevant to Spencer. In fact, having only a passing interest in most comic books and movies was a trait he and his mom shared. He only fancied stories where people used computers to catch cybercriminals. Yes, the hacking scenes and technical abilities were always absurdly fake. And it was part of the fun. So, while he didn't care about Midi-chlorians or Tatooine, if his mom was willing to dress like a slutty space princess, he could be a major fan for a day.

He searched for costume ideas on his laptop, and he found several solid options that could ship to him in under four days. One costume was perfect. Almost too perfect. To where his mom could feel uncomfortable. You better text her... Spencer thought.

"There's this costume I found for Saturday. It kind of goes with yours." He sent the product photo. "Is it cool if I wear it with you?" "The character is Leia's son. So it works on that level too."

There was no immediate reply, and regret and paranoia washed over him. He studied the photo of a shirtless Kylo Ren, who Spencer had just learned was Leia's son with Han Solo. Kylo had long, black hair. But if his mom could be a blonde Leia, then Spencer could be a brunette Kylo.

It was twenty minutes later when Spencer was on a walk when his iPhone vibrated. His mom replied, "This is your thing & you bought the tix. I won't tell you not to wear something. I'd prefer ppl don't know we're mom & son. Maybe match me another way? I'll get stared at no matter what tho, so I guess it's up to you."

Her response wasn't a no, and that was all Spencer needed to order the costume.

----

When Friday finally arrived, Spencer used his vacation day to leave sunny Los Angeles for even sunnier San Diego with his friend Chris. Everything, from the drive down Interstate 5 to the city marina, to the entrance lines, to the hallways of the waterfront convention center -- all of it was congested and clogged.

They had a wonderful time. Walking among the colorful booths and whacky merchandise was a unique experience unfound anywhere else. The craftsmanship and detailing of cosplayers' outfits were remarkable. Some women were wearing Slave Leia costumes, but none held a candle to his mom.

The entire day, Spencer daydreamed he was exploring the convention center and outdoor spaces with his mom, laughing and chatting and admiring. The fantasy of blackmailing her into sex and then her ending up loving it was creepy and unrealistic. The fantasy of her going to a whimsical event with him, dressed in a revealing costume she was already used to wearing, and having a good time goofing around with him like they usually did together... That was more realistic. And wholesome.

She'd get a crazy amount of attention here, Spencer realized. Even moderately attractive women in modestly sexy attire were drawing lingering eyes. He imagined his mom strutting down the linoleum with clacking heels, exposed legs, bare ribs, and flat abs, plus a light jiggle in her boobs... all beneath her model-like, down-to-earth smile.

The convention center was open for three more hours, but Spencer convinced Chris to head home early under the guide of beating traffic. The truth was Spencer planned to have a long day with his mom, and he wanted to be fully charged.

When he slipped inside their contemporary home, his mom greeted him in the living room. She was sitting on the carpet by her favorite coffee table and sorting through fancy papers.

"Hey, how was it?"

"That place is mental! There's so much to do, it's beyond anything. I can't wait to show you tomorrow and-"

Breanna frantically waved her arms and held her finger to her lips. It reminded Spencer of her warning the Panther to be quiet after she swallowed his load.

"Yeah, I look forward to seeing the pics tomorrow when we're kayaking tomorrow!" Her enthusiasm sounded through the large house, and Spencer nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, should be fun," he loudly agreed.

"When were you thinking of leaving? He's usually up around seven-thirty. We need to be gone before then."

The son grinned at the hushed planning. "To get there at a good time, we should be outta here by six-forty-five anyway." His mom gave him a thumbs up and went back to sorting through the stationary.

----

Family dinner was a quiet affair and much later than normal. They gathered around the long, slate dining table and ate the salmon burgers cooked by Breanna.

Spencer's dad was his usual, affable self — not speaking unless spoken to, and if he was spoken to, he was a risk for chewing your ear off with interesting stories. But nobody was speaking to him tonight. Breanna kept her eyes away from both her husband and her son. Spencer's eyes stayed away from his dad and wandered to his mom's side profile.

It wasn't that Spencer had no morals. He was infatuated and maybe in love. Nuanced thought and logic eluded him because he was drowning in swirling hormones, and he saw no way out but forward.

*****8

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Spencer muttered. "6:13," he read his wall clock. His heart throbbed while he fluttered his towel around his dripping body. He wasn't running late. Oh, no, he had plenty of time. It was just his heightened anxiety this morning. Everything needed to go perfectly. What if his dad woke up early? They should leave as soon as possible. Rather than seeing a beautiful morning sun just above the Eastern horizon, Spencer saw a part of the day that had already slipped away.

His costume had been laid out on his chair since last night, but Spencer carried it to the downstairs bathroom to be safe. The last thing he wanted was to run into his early rising dad and explain why he was wearing leather pants to go kayaking in the mountains.

His white smile and hazel eyes lit up the mirror. There were no dark circles or fatigue as he had feared. His boost in optimism was fueled by his flattering costume. Aside from his perfectly swept hair and the white tee he was wearing for the car ride, Spencer thought he looked badass. He ruffled his hair a bit, then brushed some of it back again.

In the middle of the white, pristine kitchen, Spencer drank a glass of orange juice, wearing black boots, pants, a utility belt, and a lightsaber. The door to the nearby laundry room squeaked open, and his mom appeared. Apparently, she had a similar thought about changing safely.

The only visible clues of her costume were her hair braid and the snaking gold accessories around her hair, wrists, and neck. Her entire body, down to her shins, was draped in her beige trench coat.

Spencer's eyes ran down her buttoned jacket and stared at her blue walking shoes.

"I'm not diving in heels," she answered.

"Well... You have them, right? Both of them?"

Breanna rolled her eyes and bit her mouth to avoid giving her son the satisfaction of making her laugh. "Yes, they're both in the car. We should leave now. We can get breakfast sandwiches somewhere."

"Yeah! Are you sure you have everything for your costume?" What if his mom forgot an essential piece and canceled their plans when they arrived in San Diego?

Breanna already had her blush and mascara applied. She had been up since five o'clock so she could go to the gym first, which she always did on days where she planned to... have fun. Yes, she was certain she was ready. Humoring her son, she peeked inside her trench coat for a nanosecond. "Yep, I can see it all there. Let's get going."

Hustling out of the door with his mom in broad daylight gave Spencer the same body rush he felt from spying on her last weekend. The electric SUV silently started and rolled out of the driveway. It hit Spencer that two orange kayaks were already on the roof of the car from when his mom and dad went last month. The son studied his mom's face. She was smart.

----

After eating a deliciously unhealthy fast food breakfast in the car, they were finally cruising down the highway toward the Pacific ocean. Spencer lowered the passenger sun visor and used the built-in mirror to draw a thin scar over his eye with a red makeup pen. "It's for my cosplay," he explained before his mom could ask.

"So... What's the plan for when we get there? What's there to do?"

"Um... Pretty much anything, hah! There's too many exhibitions and activities and booths for one day. I remember some dope-looking things that didn't have insane lines. But we can do whatever. Do you have any interest in anything specific?"

Breanna took her eyes off the road and shrugged at him. "I'm up for anything. Whatever you're interested in doing is fine by me. My mission for the day is trying to act like I do at Mr. Commons' house and to meet some stranger tonight — while pretending you're not checking me out," she chuckled nervously. "Other than that, I don't have plans."

"Okay." He scratched the small hairs growing on his knuckle. "Do you, like... Do you wear this every time you go over to Mr. Commons'? It is part of how you lure guys in?"

"No, no, haha! They're usually black-tie affairs. Every once in a while, I guess he likes to throw an actual party for fun. There was only another costume party for Halloween, and I did wear this. It's a popular one," she leveled.

"How do you usually find guys then? I mean, if you aren't dancing or dressed like that, how do guys know, like..."

Breanna's cheeks glowed pink, and she proudly pursed her lips. "I have a few tight, high-cut cocktail dresses. They seem to work, too."

The son's breathing slowed, and his eyes went wide. "How did it all start? How did the first guy know he could flirt with you? And how did all the other single guys find out? And how do you know dad won't find out?"

Breanna blinked and digested the questions. "Well, the first time was last fall, when Malcolm invited your dad and me to his cocktail party because he wanted to bury the hatchet with your dad finally. While your dad was having a man-to-man with Malcolm, I was talking to this guy upstairs. And he was drinking and flirty. So, I was kind of casually flirting back. Nothing big. Really, it wasn't much different than how I'd talk to your dad's business partners right in front of him, you know? But this guy must've read into it too much because he kissed me. I don't know why, but I let him. I was about to walk away, but I felt his cock grow into my stomach, and I guess something switched in my head. I kissed him back. We kissed more, he told me he had a condom, and next thing I knew I was watching him have at it."

The son cracked his window, letting the flapping air hit his moist skin.

"And the other guys found out because that's how guys are. The first guy probably told another, who told another, who told another. There's nothing stopping your dad from finding out, per se. But there aren't too many unmarried guys at the parties. I tell the guy every time to keep it between us, but I think it's more they realize that if word gets out, it'll never happen again."

The mother drummed her fingers around the steering wheel and glanced at her son. "I know how it probably looked... with the Panther guy knowing he could come up behind me and it happening kind of fast... but I don't make it too easy for them. They have to, you know... They have to get me to, uh..." He stared at her blankly, and he seemed to understand the message.

"Hmm," Spencer nodded and faced the dashboard. His mom had always seemed like the simplest woman, and he was starting to see more of her complexity. He didn't know the right way to respond, so he stared ahead in silence.

"On that note..." she followed, "are there actually going to be a lot of other women dressed like this? I'm not going to be the Whore of Comic-Con, right? Not that I have much of a choice now..."

In a moment where Spencer recognized his growth into adulthood, he realized his mom wasn't just trying to be funny. It seemed like she needed to know that he still accepted her after hearing those confessions. The son snickered, "Yeah, there were a ton of women dressed in sluttier costumes. But, honestly, I didn't see any with your, uh..." He scratched his neck. "You're not wearing too little... But if you're asking me if you're going to stand out... then, yes."

She blushed awkwardly, as she sensed his eyes angled toward her chest. "Okay, I can live with that."

----

They journeyed the final miles along the coast to San Diego. They were there early, and already the downtown area was a zoo. People and cars were pouring through the gaps in the glass highrises and palm trees.

"Holy crap!" Breanna gaped.

It was fun for Spencer to see her reaction. He had the same mind-blown response yesterday. The streets were blocked off to facilitate waves of colorful people. The event seemed to sprawl into the horizon. "What do you think?"

"This is nuts! How many people go to this?"

"One-fifty-ish for the weekend," he beamed.

Breanna could scarcely believe it. She had been imagining a few thousand nerds getting together. She didn't expect over a hundred thousand people. The traffic was stop-and-go, and finding a parking spot was a daunting task.

Fortunately, Spencer had planned well. He had rented someone's parking spot for the day over an app, which Breanna didn't even know was a thing. They parallel parked in a streetside parking spot that was only (yes, only) a twenty-minute walk from badge pickup.

They stepped out of the black SUV and into the large sun. The heat rose from the asphalt in waves and the rays sizzled on their skin. Removing his shirt before going inside a building felt unnatural and wrong to Spencer. He could only imagine how his mom was about to feel.

He walked around the car and hopped onto the sidewalk. His mom inspected his costume, which was really just black pants with his abs rising out of them. His tan chest and neck had also thickened over the last year.

"Been hitting the gym?"

Spencer's lips curled bashfully from her wry comment.

She added, "I'm actually glad you chose that costume now because maybe all of the creeps will be too scared of you to harass me."

Slipping into her golden gladiator heels, Breanna didn't even need to look up to sense her son's angsty gaze on her trench coat. "Don't worry, it's coming off," she said as if she were patronizing a child.

The marbled, brown buttons slid off, and she untied her beige belt. She couldn't decide if doing this on a city street or in front of her son was more insane. Nevertheless, she opened her jacket. Her maroon veils unfurled over her inner thighs and down to her ankles.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she let her jacket fall from her shoulders. Breanna was fine being the scantily dressed one among friends at a private party, but she had never dressed this way in public. She felt naked and unprotected — and her decorative plastic armor couldn't help. There was no need to guess her son's thoughts. He was thoroughly hypnotized. If he were an old-time cartoon character, his chin would've been on the concrete and he'd be drooling into the street.

She fucking did it... Spencer thought, stunned. Her gold ornamentation glittered in the sunlight. Smooth skin started from her manicured toes and climbed her long, toned legs, up to her metallic belt. The indents in her obliques showed her strong, flat abdomen. A bronze, bra underwire looped around her ribs. And two cupped plates covered her melon-sized breasts, extending out from the center bridge resembling two olive butterfly wings. The sides and round outer curves of her boobs were fully exposed and he could see the faintest white lines of stretch marks. It looked like her bra was ready to pop off but was saved by the bending bronze at the top of each cup that connected the fastening string around her neck. A thick, gold collar rested on her throat.

He finally blinked when he met her round, blue eyes, which were even deeper within the black mascara. She looked away as well.

The unsettled mother turned to the approaching group of people on the sidewalk. One of the women had colorful hair and a baseball bat. Her bottoms were nothing more than fishnet stockings and a pair of hotpants that might as well have been underwear. Breanna smiled and breathed easier knowing she wouldn't be alone in her skimpy attire.

Gauging her young son's reaction again, Breanna accepted reality. She accepted this was her outfit for the day, she accepted the warmth of the summer sun on her abundance of skin, and she accepted that her "date" was going to be fawning over her the entire time. "What did I say about not wearing tight pants?"

"Hmm?" Spencer snapped out of it and glanced at his lap. A rod was trapped diagonally under the fake leather. Quickly, he tugged his utility belt lower on his waist. "Oh... Yeah. You, uh... You look really good, mom."

"Thanks," she blushed. It was a sweet and sincere compliment, and it boosted her confidence. "Luckily, for me... And I guess, luckily for you now... I'm having a good boob day." Her son nodded in agreement. "Well, let's head in before we fry out here."

As he followed his mom, Spencer noticed the added effect of her heels, as they brought her to his five-ten height and accentuated the roundness of her booty. The ocean breeze sometimes caught her silky rear loincloth and tantalizingly exposed the outside of her right butt cheek. He saw the taut knots in her bikini strings on her back.

Dude...

*****9

When Spencer was at Comic-Con yesterday, he imagined the different scenarios and locations where his mom would draw mass attention. Now, he felt naive for thinking it would require a special moment.

The convention center stretched for blocks and was framed with colossal crests of curved glass and rows of white, triangular steelwork jutting into the sky. Approaching the front entrance was like walking among sail ships on a glass ocean. Instead of beholding the architecture, many people passing by were rubbernecking at the blonde cosplayer. Breanna sensed men and women alike checking her out from all angles.

"I think you're already becoming famous," Spencer shyly whispered.

"Don't pretend this wasn't what you wanted," she retorted. Her son giggled, but Breanna breathed shakily and rubbed her arm.

As they funneled into the open entrance doors, the noise and energy chilled them and seeped into their bones. It was like landing on another planet. They were swallowed by a dense sea of people, loud chatter surrounded them, colorful and bizarre costumed characters of all sizes, angles, and genres demanded their darting eyes. Flashy banners and advertisements for TV shows and movies hung over their heads.