“What?” I asked, as I turned around and my jaw hit the floor like an animated character. Mom was in a formfitting red dress and mocha nylons. I couldn’t even fathom why she’d brought such a dress and stockings on a camping trip with her youngest son.
“That’s the answer to the clue,” she said, as she put her right hand on her cocked hip… the dress was tight and showcased every curve of her body. Her tits were pulling my eyes to them like headlights (think animated character again, this time with eyes on stalks), as were her legs encased in glossy nylons. The trifecta of voyeuristic perfection would be when I could get behind her and take a look at her ass displayed in this amazing dress.
“Oh, right,” I nodded, paying no attention to Vanna White, staring at Mom’s tits and then her feet in nylons, her heels still in her hands.
“I need a favour, sweetie,” she said.
“Anything,” I said, as I likely looked like I was nodding as my eyes went back and forth between her tits and feet.
“You keep saying that,” she said, as she walked to the couch and stood in front of me.
“And I keep meaning it,” I replied, looking down at her feet.
“Can you be a dear and put my heels on for me? This dress is a little tighter than I recall,” she said.
I agreed, even as I stared at her toes in nylons which she wiggled, as if secretly tempting me, “Of course, Mom.”
After a couple seconds of staring, I knelt down even closer to those flirtatious toes in their see-through garment, reached up blindly and she handed me her heels. I put them on the ground and mom used the arm of the couch for balance as she lifted her foot up. I slipped the first heel onto her foot, making sure to use my other hand on the back of her calf to enjoy the feel of the sheer silk.
Once it was on, I had to buckle it up, which allowed me to touch the top of her sheer clad foot. The strap was quite delicate and it took me a while to buckle it properly… partly because of my awkwardness at tiny tasks and partly because I was so greatly distracted.
Once I was done, Mom lifted her other foot up and I slipped that heel on too, this time stroking my hand appreciatively down the sole of her foot before grasping the back of her calf as I put the heel on.
I was ecstatic as well to see the heels were open toed, and I could still see the majority of her silky painted toenails. I then fastened the buckle and Mom said, “Thank you very much, honey.”
“Like I said, Mom,” I replied, “anything for you.”
“I plan to take you up on that tonight,” she smiled, pulling me up, my head actually bumping into her breasts on my way up.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
She laughed, “You used to do a lot more than just bump into them.”
I felt my face burn at the implications of her words. I tried to remain calm and suave as I said, “I wish I remembered that.”
“Oh you loved sucking on Mommy’s boobies,” she said. “You refused the bottle forever. Your dad used to joke that you were the ultimate breast man.”
“Now I’m a breast man, a leg man, and an ass man,” I listed, before adding, “all because of you.”