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YouLookGoodInHeels
Moon
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2024
Long Term, Slow-Burn, Detail Focused!
Hey everyone!
I am a literate and detailed role player. I am looking for someone who'd enjoy building an intimate, yet very debaucherously world between a mother & son. I have some scene ideas below (where the themes are separated by the characteristics of a 'good' mom, 'cool' mom, or 'bad' mom), they provide a window into the world I'm looking to create (with you) and a sense of my style. I am not inflexible. If you read below and are interested but want to mix & match, i'd be happy to hear your ideas/thoughts or even if its something a bit different.
I am looking for someone who'd want to play a mom, in a slow burn tale, in which we build out the twisted relationship between a mother and son in the scenarios presented below. I thoroughly find the juxtaposition of a cute/attractive soccer-mom with her mom-bod and suburban life, with a secret/hidden side that offers such a contrast it would unlock any sons oedipal desires. It'd be great if someone would want to play a mom with a average body or even chubbier body.
As for myself, the character i'd play is a mix of many things - ranging from a regular guy, gooner, nerd, stud, but he'd ultimately be a light/gentle dom, as their relationship evolves. This even includes the 'bad' mom. I'm not looking to humiliate the son (nor the mom)
This wouldn't be a romantic tale per say, but the twisted and depraved extension of how they both see their mother and son relationship. There is obviously some level of love, but how it twists and mutates is up to us.
How we look, can be determined as we plan our plot. I am open to all body types and races for both our characters.
Post Length: I can be quite variable on my post length, but on average lean toward 2-3 paragraphs (with the right partner, I can easily write more). I do enjoy detail, so it does not have to be verbose, but attention to detail is greatly appreciated.
For everyone to enjoy, it'd make sense if you had an equal sense of love and affection for the following kinks: High Heels, Outfit Play, Foot Play, Cum Play, Lots of Cum, Teasing, Flirting, Edging, Masturbation, (lite) Bondage, Cheating, Sexual Exhaustion, Orgasm Denial/Control, Messy Sex, Kissing,
I can write in third or first perspective.
I love building characters with my partner and taking advantage of references – whether it be of high heels, outfits, or gifs/visuals to enhance the scene we're trying to build.
Without further ado! Enjoy! I look forward to hearing from you!
For the scenes below, however the characters are described (mom & son) are just examples. I'm very flexible, and look the variations that exist for the mom you can play and the son I play (or others)
Hey everyone!
I am a literate and detailed role player. I am looking for someone who'd enjoy building an intimate, yet very debaucherously world between a mother & son. I have some scene ideas below (where the themes are separated by the characteristics of a 'good' mom, 'cool' mom, or 'bad' mom), they provide a window into the world I'm looking to create (with you) and a sense of my style. I am not inflexible. If you read below and are interested but want to mix & match, i'd be happy to hear your ideas/thoughts or even if its something a bit different.
I am looking for someone who'd want to play a mom, in a slow burn tale, in which we build out the twisted relationship between a mother and son in the scenarios presented below. I thoroughly find the juxtaposition of a cute/attractive soccer-mom with her mom-bod and suburban life, with a secret/hidden side that offers such a contrast it would unlock any sons oedipal desires. It'd be great if someone would want to play a mom with a average body or even chubbier body.
As for myself, the character i'd play is a mix of many things - ranging from a regular guy, gooner, nerd, stud, but he'd ultimately be a light/gentle dom, as their relationship evolves. This even includes the 'bad' mom. I'm not looking to humiliate the son (nor the mom)
This wouldn't be a romantic tale per say, but the twisted and depraved extension of how they both see their mother and son relationship. There is obviously some level of love, but how it twists and mutates is up to us.
How we look, can be determined as we plan our plot. I am open to all body types and races for both our characters.
Post Length: I can be quite variable on my post length, but on average lean toward 2-3 paragraphs (with the right partner, I can easily write more). I do enjoy detail, so it does not have to be verbose, but attention to detail is greatly appreciated.
For everyone to enjoy, it'd make sense if you had an equal sense of love and affection for the following kinks: High Heels, Outfit Play, Foot Play, Cum Play, Lots of Cum, Teasing, Flirting, Edging, Masturbation, (lite) Bondage, Cheating, Sexual Exhaustion, Orgasm Denial/Control, Messy Sex, Kissing,
I can write in third or first perspective.
I love building characters with my partner and taking advantage of references – whether it be of high heels, outfits, or gifs/visuals to enhance the scene we're trying to build.
Without further ado! Enjoy! I look forward to hearing from you!
For the scenes below, however the characters are described (mom & son) are just examples. I'm very flexible, and look the variations that exist for the mom you can play and the son I play (or others)
One night, it was particularly bad. The fighting. Mom was eager, desperate, and becoming a bit emotionally unhinged. I get it, I really do. She doesn't want me to move out, and be left alone with just Dad. I mean, I see it. I know she doesn't get much attention from him anymore, and yeah we did have a really close relationship. I know she thinks she'll lose me if I leave. But, the yelling continued. Dad didn't care, like usual. Then she came out with the banger –
"I bet if I dressed like the Moms you like to watch, you'd stay, right?"
It took a second to realize what she meant. I mean, why not. Its not like anyone ever thinks about their mom discovering their porn habits, let alone their…..nuanced porn searches. Ugh, Im getting embarrassed thinking about it. You know the queries, 'MILFs in Heels', 'Mom-Son Porn', 'Taboo Porn'.
Then, on a particular Sunday, it all changed. I walked downstairs and noticed her wearing a sweater. She stood at the counter, the cream sweater falling just high enough to reveal the gentle curve of her thighs. She was wearing, what I thought was 5 inch heels, with a cork platform. They had a pep toe, revealing her black painted toenails.
5-inch cork platforms accentuate her legs, making them seem endless despite their subtle softness, their natural curves. She moves with an easy grace in the towering heels, the peep toe revealing perfectly painted black nails. Her face is bare, a few laugh lines appearing as she looks up and smiles, her loose hair falling in slightly messy waves around her shoulders.
"It'll be ready in a bit..." she says with a slight tremor in her voice, quickly looking back down at her baking, the heels clicked softly as she shifted her weight. The movement causes the sweater to sway gently against her thighs, gently revealing that she may not have been wearing anything underneath.
That was the start. The start of something much different. It didn't happen all the time. But there was this growing juxtaposition, this secret side to her, that slowly starting to unfold…
I don't ever say anything. But it's happened again. At first, I was confused. But I don't want it to stop. The truth is, I may have become more emboldened.
(For this prompt, part of the fun would come from the spurts of her son (me) seeing his mom in this new light - through outfits, acts, etc
However, she wouldn't necessarily be trying to directly seduce him as she's equally anxious and nervous about this clearly depraved side of her - until her son starts to act. She would continue her increasingly taboo and lewd behavior, but wouldn't act outwardly a slut. There is this painted normality, despite how she's dressed. Until her son starts to act, maybe its a way he kisses her, or how he touches her, from which they slowly evolve.
They wouldn't explicitly talk about doing stuff, as part of the fun and intensity would be her son starting to just 'do' things. A little vice versa, the mom could do it as well, but not as direct (jumping in the shower with him, helping him get clean, etc. )
"I bet if I dressed like the Moms you like to watch, you'd stay, right?"
It took a second to realize what she meant. I mean, why not. Its not like anyone ever thinks about their mom discovering their porn habits, let alone their…..nuanced porn searches. Ugh, Im getting embarrassed thinking about it. You know the queries, 'MILFs in Heels', 'Mom-Son Porn', 'Taboo Porn'.
Then, on a particular Sunday, it all changed. I walked downstairs and noticed her wearing a sweater. She stood at the counter, the cream sweater falling just high enough to reveal the gentle curve of her thighs. She was wearing, what I thought was 5 inch heels, with a cork platform. They had a pep toe, revealing her black painted toenails.
5-inch cork platforms accentuate her legs, making them seem endless despite their subtle softness, their natural curves. She moves with an easy grace in the towering heels, the peep toe revealing perfectly painted black nails. Her face is bare, a few laugh lines appearing as she looks up and smiles, her loose hair falling in slightly messy waves around her shoulders.
"It'll be ready in a bit..." she says with a slight tremor in her voice, quickly looking back down at her baking, the heels clicked softly as she shifted her weight. The movement causes the sweater to sway gently against her thighs, gently revealing that she may not have been wearing anything underneath.
That was the start. The start of something much different. It didn't happen all the time. But there was this growing juxtaposition, this secret side to her, that slowly starting to unfold…
I don't ever say anything. But it's happened again. At first, I was confused. But I don't want it to stop. The truth is, I may have become more emboldened.
(For this prompt, part of the fun would come from the spurts of her son (me) seeing his mom in this new light - through outfits, acts, etc
However, she wouldn't necessarily be trying to directly seduce him as she's equally anxious and nervous about this clearly depraved side of her - until her son starts to act. She would continue her increasingly taboo and lewd behavior, but wouldn't act outwardly a slut. There is this painted normality, despite how she's dressed. Until her son starts to act, maybe its a way he kisses her, or how he touches her, from which they slowly evolve.
They wouldn't explicitly talk about doing stuff, as part of the fun and intensity would be her son starting to just 'do' things. A little vice versa, the mom could do it as well, but not as direct (jumping in the shower with him, helping him get clean, etc. )
My mom has always been around. Maybe more so than she should have. She really dove into her identity as a mom. I get the feeling that's all she has now, so she really is involved. She tends to hover, and include herself in my life in all the different type of ways. So it came to no surprise that when she realized I may be turning into a gooner, jerking off excessively, watching porn obsessively and well you know the drill , the feelings she should have had (disgusted, horrified), she was more concerned.
So, during our 'talk' it came out:
"You aren't focusing on school. You got into a great university, and your slipping! Also, it does hurt me that you look for other mothers. I mean, you have me? What if I started to dress like them, would you at least stop watching this online?" She had said to me, in between tears and desperation. So imagine my surprise, when I woke up on Christmas Day.
I walked downstairs , my one hand ruffling my hair, which was already messy. The other hand adjusting my thick black glasses. Despite the weather outside, I dressed as you'd expect. My gym shorts hugging my thighs, as they hiked up with each step. My ratty and vintage shirt, clearly been used, hangs off me.
I knew you were a wake. I heard some sounds. As I walked into the living room, my eyes adjusted to the unusual scene before me.
There you were, bent over by our Christmas tree, adjusting something beneath it. My breath caught in my throat. After twenty years of being alive, you still had this way of surprising me, of making my heart skip a beat. The red leggings you wore hugged every soft curve of your 5'4" frame, accentuating the gentle roundness of your hips and the smooth lines of your legs. Your emerald green sweater draped perfectly to your upper thighs, creating a silhouette that made my mouth go dry.
I couldn't help but notice how you'd done herself up - eyes were enhanced with mascara, making them seem bigger, brighter somehow. But what really caught my attention were those heels - sparkly red platforms that must have been five inches high, making your legs look endless. Through the peep-toe design, I could see your toes painted in alternating red and white stripes, like little candy canes.
You looked over her shoulder at me, and I saw that familiar smile - the one that still made me feel so loved. "Merry Christmas, honey!" she said, her voice carrying a playful note I hadn't heard in a while. In that moment, standing there in my worn-out clothes, not realizing to what extent you would go to make sure I stayed yours.
(Very similar to the one above, except a bit more pointed and focused on sex. It would take time, but it could start with him ASKING - yeah dress like XYZ, after he's seen what shes capable of. Then it starts to evolve. )
So, during our 'talk' it came out:
"You aren't focusing on school. You got into a great university, and your slipping! Also, it does hurt me that you look for other mothers. I mean, you have me? What if I started to dress like them, would you at least stop watching this online?" She had said to me, in between tears and desperation. So imagine my surprise, when I woke up on Christmas Day.
I walked downstairs , my one hand ruffling my hair, which was already messy. The other hand adjusting my thick black glasses. Despite the weather outside, I dressed as you'd expect. My gym shorts hugging my thighs, as they hiked up with each step. My ratty and vintage shirt, clearly been used, hangs off me.
I knew you were a wake. I heard some sounds. As I walked into the living room, my eyes adjusted to the unusual scene before me.
There you were, bent over by our Christmas tree, adjusting something beneath it. My breath caught in my throat. After twenty years of being alive, you still had this way of surprising me, of making my heart skip a beat. The red leggings you wore hugged every soft curve of your 5'4" frame, accentuating the gentle roundness of your hips and the smooth lines of your legs. Your emerald green sweater draped perfectly to your upper thighs, creating a silhouette that made my mouth go dry.
I couldn't help but notice how you'd done herself up - eyes were enhanced with mascara, making them seem bigger, brighter somehow. But what really caught my attention were those heels - sparkly red platforms that must have been five inches high, making your legs look endless. Through the peep-toe design, I could see your toes painted in alternating red and white stripes, like little candy canes.
You looked over her shoulder at me, and I saw that familiar smile - the one that still made me feel so loved. "Merry Christmas, honey!" she said, her voice carrying a playful note I hadn't heard in a while. In that moment, standing there in my worn-out clothes, not realizing to what extent you would go to make sure I stayed yours.
(Very similar to the one above, except a bit more pointed and focused on sex. It would take time, but it could start with him ASKING - yeah dress like XYZ, after he's seen what shes capable of. Then it starts to evolve. )
My mom is the sweetest, most adorable woman I know. So imagine my surprise when I discover her repressed habits, that she had this addiction to porn and masturbation. I had always thought she was happy with dad in their quaint life - but upon seeing the progressively more depraved and taboo porn, i was shocked. Shocked enough to be motivated to not just be an observer....
**(Looking for someone who'd want to play a non suspecting mother, cute, sweet - but deep down, this intense goonette personality she's had since she was in college. A progressively more intense and depraved porn habits as the previous scenes and genres dont help - which would include taboo porn. As her son discovers this, he starts to catalyze when shes at her horniest, knowing she edged herself. So someone who'd enjoy the slowburn aspect of the mom slowly being edged/teased - not just from her own goonette personality but her sons subtle manipulation - 'mom you'd look good in those heels' and as you try them on, realizing how your son looks at you adds to the already lust fever you feel. This wouldn't be quick, you wouldn't be an outward slut. However, we would slowly build scenes in which in secret our characters would explore each other, in slow progression. Really flexible to build what it means to have a goonette mom.
)
**(Looking for someone who'd want to play a non suspecting mother, cute, sweet - but deep down, this intense goonette personality she's had since she was in college. A progressively more intense and depraved porn habits as the previous scenes and genres dont help - which would include taboo porn. As her son discovers this, he starts to catalyze when shes at her horniest, knowing she edged herself. So someone who'd enjoy the slowburn aspect of the mom slowly being edged/teased - not just from her own goonette personality but her sons subtle manipulation - 'mom you'd look good in those heels' and as you try them on, realizing how your son looks at you adds to the already lust fever you feel. This wouldn't be quick, you wouldn't be an outward slut. However, we would slowly build scenes in which in secret our characters would explore each other, in slow progression. Really flexible to build what it means to have a goonette mom.
)Through the sliding glass door, I entered the kitchen from the bustling backyard party. The aroma of grilled meats and summer salads filled the air, mixing with the sound of laughter and music drifting in from outside. There was my mom, greeting my buddy with her characteristic warmth - her lips were caught on his, almost locked in as they embraced. Despite their locked lips, the subtle movements their cheeks exposed, such as the hallowing of their cheeks, suggested the movements their tongues must be making inside. Their chins and jaws moving in a way to suggest the intimacy inside those locked lips. She finally pulled away, smiling and continuing a conversation as if the act was noting more than a regular greeting as her hands gently resting on his shoulders. Her 5'3" frame, elevated by those chunky brown platforms, still left her looking up at most guests, which somehow made her affectionate gestures even more endearing.
The denim shorts rode high as she moved, and her partially unbuttoned blue shirt shifted with each embrace, the gold necklace catching the kitchen's warm light. Her messy bun had grown slightly messier from the summer heat and constant motion of hosting. As she pulled away from my buddy, her coral-painted toes visible through the strappy heels, she immediately noticed me and beamed.
"Honey!" she called out, already moving toward me with open arms, her heels clicking against the tile floor. In her culture, everyone was family, and family meant proper greetings - no quick hellos or casual waves. I knew what was coming: the warm embrace, the hearty and deep kiss, the slight floral scent of her perfume mixing with the summer air. It was just moms way - making everyone feel like they were the most important person at her party, even if just for a moment.
(The Cool Mom would just be the mom who starts to increasingly act more inappropriate, but it was mostly her way of staying cool and close to her son and his friends.)
The denim shorts rode high as she moved, and her partially unbuttoned blue shirt shifted with each embrace, the gold necklace catching the kitchen's warm light. Her messy bun had grown slightly messier from the summer heat and constant motion of hosting. As she pulled away from my buddy, her coral-painted toes visible through the strappy heels, she immediately noticed me and beamed.
"Honey!" she called out, already moving toward me with open arms, her heels clicking against the tile floor. In her culture, everyone was family, and family meant proper greetings - no quick hellos or casual waves. I knew what was coming: the warm embrace, the hearty and deep kiss, the slight floral scent of her perfume mixing with the summer air. It was just moms way - making everyone feel like they were the most important person at her party, even if just for a moment.
(The Cool Mom would just be the mom who starts to increasingly act more inappropriate, but it was mostly her way of staying cool and close to her son and his friends.)
Then, on a particular Sunday, it all changed. I walked downstairs absentmindedly on my phone. *Ding* A text message came through, it was green. "Enjoy – you can thank me later" that's all it said. I texted back. "???" & "Who is this?" to which he replied back with a video.
The video was paused, but the visual was obvious. Evident. It was of a woman. I clicked play, and the video revealed a woman leaning against a wall, she was dressed in a provocative two-piece lingerie set. Her legs were long, with one extended and resting on a very familiar ottoman, while the other is slightly bent. Perched on her feet are a pair of leopard print platform heels.
With one hand, she had a pink dildo steadily pushing it in her. I couldn't see her face, as the camera purposely stopped right above her chin, so I could see her lips. Her moans were soft, and breathy, fill the air, adding an auditory layer to the spectacle. Right before the 30 second clip ended, the camera panned up, revealing my mothers face.
I gasped.
A few moments later, another text came through. "
"
My mind blank due to the shock as I walked down to the kitchen, before I found myself in front of my mom. She stood at the counter, the cream sweater falling just high enough to reveal the gentle curve of her thighs. She was wearing, what I thought was 5 inch heels, with a cork platform. They had a pep toe, revealing her black painted toenails.
She walked toward me, in a way that made my spine tingle. It was the way her legs went before each other, as she strutted toward me. The way the heels *clicked* as she walked. Each step caused her sweater to ride up, just ever so slightly, before it revealed the subtle landing strip that adorned her underside. The same landing strip.
Her face was bare, devoid of make up. A flush of red crept across her cheeks, a mix of desire and apprehension. As she drew closer, her eyes, a deep shade of brown, locked with his, and she paused, taking a moment to gather her courage. Then, in a voice that was both husky and inviting, she spoke, "Good morning, baby."
Its something I've heard countless times, but this time it felt different. Then, in a move that was both bold and unexpected, she opened her mouth wide, a gesture that was at once grotesque and incredibly erotic, and pulled me towards her. Her lips, soft and full, met his in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. Her tongue, warm and wet, invaded my mouth, tangling with mine.
After a few moments, she pulled away, my eyes opened watching her pull away. Her eyes glazed, her lips still open and wet. Her tongue slowly slid back in, breaking the bridge of saliva between our lips.
That'd be the first of many unique encounters, as my mom started to do more and more....What I didn't know was that she was in a lewd and depraved affair with a guy from college. Aside from getting her in promiscuous outfits, and playing with herself in the house he would ravage he did to her, in our house when no-one was home. Of course, he sent all these videos.
Little did I know, as their depraved affair went deeper, he had told her if she wanted to continue seeing him, he wanted her to make out with her son. What I did not know, is how far he'd go with it.
The video was paused, but the visual was obvious. Evident. It was of a woman. I clicked play, and the video revealed a woman leaning against a wall, she was dressed in a provocative two-piece lingerie set. Her legs were long, with one extended and resting on a very familiar ottoman, while the other is slightly bent. Perched on her feet are a pair of leopard print platform heels.
With one hand, she had a pink dildo steadily pushing it in her. I couldn't see her face, as the camera purposely stopped right above her chin, so I could see her lips. Her moans were soft, and breathy, fill the air, adding an auditory layer to the spectacle. Right before the 30 second clip ended, the camera panned up, revealing my mothers face.
I gasped.
A few moments later, another text came through. "
"My mind blank due to the shock as I walked down to the kitchen, before I found myself in front of my mom. She stood at the counter, the cream sweater falling just high enough to reveal the gentle curve of her thighs. She was wearing, what I thought was 5 inch heels, with a cork platform. They had a pep toe, revealing her black painted toenails.
She walked toward me, in a way that made my spine tingle. It was the way her legs went before each other, as she strutted toward me. The way the heels *clicked* as she walked. Each step caused her sweater to ride up, just ever so slightly, before it revealed the subtle landing strip that adorned her underside. The same landing strip.
Her face was bare, devoid of make up. A flush of red crept across her cheeks, a mix of desire and apprehension. As she drew closer, her eyes, a deep shade of brown, locked with his, and she paused, taking a moment to gather her courage. Then, in a voice that was both husky and inviting, she spoke, "Good morning, baby."
Its something I've heard countless times, but this time it felt different. Then, in a move that was both bold and unexpected, she opened her mouth wide, a gesture that was at once grotesque and incredibly erotic, and pulled me towards her. Her lips, soft and full, met his in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. Her tongue, warm and wet, invaded my mouth, tangling with mine.
After a few moments, she pulled away, my eyes opened watching her pull away. Her eyes glazed, her lips still open and wet. Her tongue slowly slid back in, breaking the bridge of saliva between our lips.
That'd be the first of many unique encounters, as my mom started to do more and more....What I didn't know was that she was in a lewd and depraved affair with a guy from college. Aside from getting her in promiscuous outfits, and playing with herself in the house he would ravage he did to her, in our house when no-one was home. Of course, he sent all these videos.
Little did I know, as their depraved affair went deeper, he had told her if she wanted to continue seeing him, he wanted her to make out with her son. What I did not know, is how far he'd go with it.
(All the anime and geeky details can be variable and dished out between us! Very flexible with this one)
I was sprawled out on the couch, completely laid back like I didn't have a care in the world—except I definitely did. My legs were spread, one foot propped lazily on the coffee table that was littered with empty soda cans and a couple of half-eaten snack bags. I tugged absentmindedly at the hem of my vintage Ghost in the Shell shirt, the faded logo and Major Kusanagi's stern face stretched slightly across my chest. My slim black jeans felt a little tight after sitting this way for so long, but I wasn't about to move just yet.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, but I ignored it until it hit me—my test.
"Crap!" I yelled, suddenly jolting upright. "Mom, I've gotta head to class! I have a test!"
I grabbed my backpack from the floor, stuffing a notebook and my laptop into it, more than a little panicked. I had decided to live at home while going to university - it had some perks. But I always, even though it had been a few years, struggled with time.
"Hold on, I promise I'm almost done, honey!" her voice called out from the bedroom.
I froze mid-motion, my backpack hanging off one shoulder. Almost done? What was she even doing in there? I sighed and sank back into the couch, slouching again as I stared at the hallway. My foot tapped impatiently against the coffee table.
And then, she stepped out.
At first, I wasn't sure what I was looking at. It took my brain a second to process. She was wearing the red plug suit. You know, Asuka Langley Soryu's suit from Evangelion. And let me tell you—it was skin-tight. The shiny material hugged her body like it was painted on, stretching over every curve, fold, and line. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs—it was all right there, impossible to miss. The suit clung to her arms and shoulders, framing her figure in a way that made me blink in disbelief.
And then there were the shoes—bright red, open-toe platform heels, at least five inches tall, with her black-painted toenails peeking out from the front. She wobbled slightly as she adjusted her balance, clearly not used to walking in them.
"What do you think?" she asked, doing a slow, nervous spin. Her voice was casual, but there was a flicker of anxiety in her eyes. "You know I wanna come to the con with you and your friends, and you know I used to watch anime… so I figured, why not?"
My jaw literally dropped. I wasn't trying to be dramatic, but I couldn't help it. She'd been throwing me off for weeks now—ever since she started getting way more interested in my hobbies. It wasn't like she hadn't supported them before, but this was different. Lately, she'd been asking about my favorite shows, joking about JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, and even sending me memes I was pretty sure she had no business knowing about. Some of them were downright suggestive, too, which… well, let's just say I didn't mind. I mean, it was strange, saying something about rule34.
But this? This was next level.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, trying to form a coherent thought. "You're… wow," I said finally. "I mean, you look incredible. I didn't even know you owned something like that. And the shoes? I don't even know how you're walking right now."
She laughed, a little self-conscious but clearly proud of herself. "Good," she said, brushing her hands awkwardly down the front of the suit as if smoothing it out. "Because I'm definitely showing up to the con like this. Your friends are gonna freak out."
My friends. Oh, man. I could already hear their reactions in my head. I wasn't sure if they were going to be impressed, confused, or both.
"Seriously," I said, leaning back into the couch, my voice softening. "You look amazing. And, uh, I think my friends are gonna love you even more than they already do."
Her grin widened. "I was hoping you'd say that," she said, spinning around one more time, the heels clicking softly against the floor.
And as she struck a mock pose, one hand on her hip, I couldn't help but laugh. Somehow, she'd managed to surprise me yet again.
I was sprawled out on the couch, completely laid back like I didn't have a care in the world—except I definitely did. My legs were spread, one foot propped lazily on the coffee table that was littered with empty soda cans and a couple of half-eaten snack bags. I tugged absentmindedly at the hem of my vintage Ghost in the Shell shirt, the faded logo and Major Kusanagi's stern face stretched slightly across my chest. My slim black jeans felt a little tight after sitting this way for so long, but I wasn't about to move just yet.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, but I ignored it until it hit me—my test.
"Crap!" I yelled, suddenly jolting upright. "Mom, I've gotta head to class! I have a test!"
I grabbed my backpack from the floor, stuffing a notebook and my laptop into it, more than a little panicked. I had decided to live at home while going to university - it had some perks. But I always, even though it had been a few years, struggled with time.
"Hold on, I promise I'm almost done, honey!" her voice called out from the bedroom.
I froze mid-motion, my backpack hanging off one shoulder. Almost done? What was she even doing in there? I sighed and sank back into the couch, slouching again as I stared at the hallway. My foot tapped impatiently against the coffee table.
And then, she stepped out.
At first, I wasn't sure what I was looking at. It took my brain a second to process. She was wearing the red plug suit. You know, Asuka Langley Soryu's suit from Evangelion. And let me tell you—it was skin-tight. The shiny material hugged her body like it was painted on, stretching over every curve, fold, and line. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs—it was all right there, impossible to miss. The suit clung to her arms and shoulders, framing her figure in a way that made me blink in disbelief.
And then there were the shoes—bright red, open-toe platform heels, at least five inches tall, with her black-painted toenails peeking out from the front. She wobbled slightly as she adjusted her balance, clearly not used to walking in them.
"What do you think?" she asked, doing a slow, nervous spin. Her voice was casual, but there was a flicker of anxiety in her eyes. "You know I wanna come to the con with you and your friends, and you know I used to watch anime… so I figured, why not?"
My jaw literally dropped. I wasn't trying to be dramatic, but I couldn't help it. She'd been throwing me off for weeks now—ever since she started getting way more interested in my hobbies. It wasn't like she hadn't supported them before, but this was different. Lately, she'd been asking about my favorite shows, joking about JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, and even sending me memes I was pretty sure she had no business knowing about. Some of them were downright suggestive, too, which… well, let's just say I didn't mind. I mean, it was strange, saying something about rule34.
But this? This was next level.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, trying to form a coherent thought. "You're… wow," I said finally. "I mean, you look incredible. I didn't even know you owned something like that. And the shoes? I don't even know how you're walking right now."
She laughed, a little self-conscious but clearly proud of herself. "Good," she said, brushing her hands awkwardly down the front of the suit as if smoothing it out. "Because I'm definitely showing up to the con like this. Your friends are gonna freak out."
My friends. Oh, man. I could already hear their reactions in my head. I wasn't sure if they were going to be impressed, confused, or both.
"Seriously," I said, leaning back into the couch, my voice softening. "You look amazing. And, uh, I think my friends are gonna love you even more than they already do."
Her grin widened. "I was hoping you'd say that," she said, spinning around one more time, the heels clicking softly against the floor.
And as she struck a mock pose, one hand on her hip, I couldn't help but laugh. Somehow, she'd managed to surprise me yet again.
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