Does your mommy appear short? I wasn’t very tall myself on the day I decided that mine seemed too short. When I noticed that she wore thin flip-flops around the house, I wondered, ignorantly, if that was her challenge.

Dad towered over her, usually complaining about something. Sometimes he would raise his hand, but then he would look at me and say, “She deserves it, but you don’t need to see it.” I would run away, crying. Mother looked so piteous, trying to reason with him, her head reaching only to his chest.

I was quite a bit older when Mom’s divorce came through, accompanied by a restraining order. These days she doesn’t wear as much make-up. I couldn’t understand why she ever would. I did figure that out eventually. I thought she was hiding how beautiful she was, her face so kind and feminine. She wore her auburn hair long, down to her shoulder blades. It was silky and soft. I loved nuzzling my face against it along her neck. I would peek down the front of her blouse, because the gap between her boobs made me feel funny in a good way.

She has a wonderful shape too. During her marriage, my mother would escape the house a lot, to jog or go swimming. Nowadays, she goes to a Yogi Bear place for stretching and calisthenics.

Dad used to accuse her of cheating, but Mom always played fair at board games. Now that he’s gone, she dresses prettier than before.

I wanted to celebrate. “Momma, can we go shopping? I want-ta buy you something.”

“Oh? Did you get an inheritance, suddenly?” She smiled while making fun of me.

“I saved my allowance.” For a kid my age the amount I’d saved was quite a lot. Dad regularly mailed cash to me, ten or twenty dollars. He always put a note in. “I miss you. Your mother is keeping me away from you. Someday I’ll save you from her evil ways.” I had saved up two hundred, thirty three dollars - and fifty eight cents. I only told Mom, I had plenty. I kept Dad’s letters a secret. He used my grandfather’s name on them, but I think she knew.

“What are you going to buy me?”

“SHOES, Mommy!” I beamed. “Real tall ones!”

“Um, okay. That’s very kind of you, but don’t you want to keep your money for something for you?”

“No!” My stomach cramped a little though. My bicycle was old and clunky, and kids made fun of it when I went riding. My friends made the worst comments, but they were mostly kidding. “Can we go now?”

“Why the big hurry? Let’s finish lunch and clean up the dishes first.”

Cleaning up seemed to take the longest time, but right after, she fetched her keys and walked me to the curb where our Honda Accord waited. She drove us to the nearest Payless.

We entered the building’s rack filled rectangle, and a terrible smell assaulted me. I wrinkled my nose just inside the sliding door.

“It’s all the plastic in their products.” She told me.

“I don’t want-ta buy you smelly shoes, Momma. Can’t we go to a better place?”

“We can, but I don’t want you to spend too much.”

“It’s my money, Mommy.” I complained.

“Yes, but you need to keep some for things you want.”

“I want you to be taller!” I blurted.

Mom took a soft breath. “That’s -- a nice thought, Wendel.”

We back pedaled from disappointed salespeople. Mom next drove to the open air shopping mall. She took me into a Target. “Their shoes are better made but don’t cost much more.”

I dragged her through the racks. There weren’t many shelves, and I didn’t find what I was looking for. A fat lady clerk asked if she could help.

“I want to buy lady shoes, super tall ones!”

“Um,” She didn’t believe I should buy something like that. She smirked at Mom. “I doubt we stock high heels in his size.” Maybe she was joking, but that was when I first learned about high heels.

“NO, they’re for Momma!”

“They’re a gift.” Mom explained.

“Oh!” The lady chuckled. “Silly of me.”

“I don’t like her.” I tugged Mommy’s arm, dragging her away from the shoe department. Mom never complained when I tried to get my way. Sometimes she didn’t let me get my way, like when I wanted a pet iguana. Taking care of non-native lizards was too much responsibility for me at the time. Instead of complaining she reasoned that. Mostly she just let me get away with stuff. I did get a guinea pig like the brown one at school, but mine had orange and white and black patches like a punk’s jacket.

One time, I put my hand down the front of Mom’ dress. It happened on a day when Dad was at work. Mom asked why my hand was touching her chest. She didn’t yell or pull my hand away. I blushed then and sputtered about seeing something drop down there. “Don’t fib, Wendel. That’s not good.” I pulled my hand out of her dress. I wondered if she didn’t mind that I had treated her like one of my toys. Still, I felt bad from being scolded for lying.

I led Mom out of the Target. There had to be a better place. “I really don’t need high heels, Sweetie.” She reasserted. She followed, but I had to slow down to keep from racing away from her.

We walked everywhere through and around the mall, but all the shoes looked so - lame. I stopped at the mall’s map, mostly to catch my breath, but I wanted to check if I had missed any stores.

“You’ve walked so much, today Wendel.” She breathed calmly, while I panted and my heart rate doubled. I don’t like to exercise very much, but she loves it.

Someone had marked an X on a corner of the map. The marked location was away from the main group of buildings, across a street even. The word ‘shoes’ had been scrawled beneath the X. Both had been drawn by someone with a golden marker. “There! Mommy, I want to go there.”

“That’s not part of the mall, Honey.” Mom said. She worried, “It might be someone’s idea of a joke.”

But hope in a young man is a powerful force. “It’s not far.” I patted her elbow, encouraging her in the X’s direction.

The mysterious place was farther than I expected, across two big parking lots. The street was four lanes wide and busy with slow moving traffic. We waited at the light to cross, me anxiously, she patiently.

What awaited us wasn’t a store building. It was a house, but a large shingle dangled over the entrance. It was the shape of an extremely tall heeled shoe. The sign read, “On Top of the Whirled.” Silhouettes of a man and woman dancing framed the words. Unmarked wooden, double doors stood like guardians before us. I didn’t know whether to knock or go right in. Mom pressed the doorbell button, her face now curious if not a little excited.

The door whisked open, and a tall woman greeted us. She wore a shimmering, deep purple tube dress. Her hair was dark black all the way down to her calves. She had the figure of a curvy dancer, right down to her amazingly tall sandals. The heels were so high, she might as well have been a ballerina on the tips of her toes. “Welcome, friends. Please call me Jessica. Are you here for the shoes of a lifetime?”

“Wendel, this place must be very expensive. I suspect they custom make every shoe by hand.” Momma whispered. It was a warning, but she didn’t sound worried. Her voice trembled with energy.

“Correct, Ma-am.” The fine looking woman agreed but also kidded.” Our elves work night and day and very happily. You can feel their joy with every step. But we sell shoes for all budgets. Please, come look at the samples.” She spun around and led us within the charming old house.

The main room had been converted into a showroom. The walls were lined with shelves of exciting shoes. Every pair in the women’s cases had beautifully crafted heels. The middle of the room was completely open. Silver footprints had been set into the wooden floor, showing off different dances.

In addition to the main entrance, the room had two doors, one plain and narrow. The other was oddly just a painting of a door on an otherwise bare section of wall.

“Let me introduce you.” Jessica glided over to the shelves and told us the narrow, short heels were called Kittens. There were so many different kinds: Blocks, Mary Janes, Spools, Pins, Stilettos, Pumps, Platforms, Slingbacks, Wedges, Clogs, Mules, and really strange ones called Lobster Claws. Some had open toes, peep toes, flat toes, sharp toes. Some were fastened by single straps. Many sported multiple straps. One type, called Gladiators, had a dozen straps!

Mom stared and stared. I thought they were all wonderful. She looked bedazzled.

“Which do you want your Mommy to try on first?” Jessica’s voice lilted at me.

“A shop this boutique can’t carry all of them in my size.” Mom reasoned.

“Oh, you’ll be surprised at how prepared we are.” A sly grin took to her lips. She prompted me again, with a nod at the women’s shelves.

“Those.” I pointed. In the middle of the case, two incredibly tall heeled Pins, made from what looked like very soft leather, caught my eye.

“Deer hide makes for the most comfortable wear over a long period.”

“I feel sorry for the poor thing.” Mom bit her lip.

“This model is alternatively made with a special, cruelty free composition. It mimics deerskin in every way and is nearly as durable.” Jessica offered.

“If it’s what my son wants, I guess I should try them.” Mom made a joke. “Without real deer, please.”

The beautiful clerk disappeared through a small door. Almost instantly, as if she had simply turned around, she re-entered the room, carrying two of the soft looking, high heels which I had requested. “Please have a seat, Ma-am.”

Mom sat on the one chair in the room. It had a special extension for propping up a leg. The clerk’s dress shimmered and shrank when she kneeled before my mother. She unfastened Mom’s plain brown flats which revealed white foot-socks, and raised her right foot onto the board. Jessica gently fitted the appropriate Pin onto my mother’s foot.

“It feels wonderful!”

“I’m so glad, Ma-am.” Jessica slipped Mom’s other foot into the left Pin as easily as she had the first. “Give them a whirl.” The clerk offered Mother a hand to help her to her feet. Mom wobbled for a second.

Jessica held her steady when Mom took a few steps but she quickly gained confidence. “These aren’t as difficult to walk in as I expected.” Mom gave the room a cheer filled smile, let go of the clerk’s hand, and proceeded to walk elegantly.

I gasped at how her body swayed more seductively than ever before. She stood so tall, I believed nobody would take her for granted, ever again.

The sight re-energized me, having walked all afternoon and finding much disappointment. Not surprising, my penis got very hard watching Mom’s hips sway, her boobs wag, her smile widen. My penis did that a lot in those days. Whenever I played with it, it gushed a bunch of what Mommy had taught me was “semen” which carried sperm. Just one would merge with a lady’s egg to make a zygote that would attach to the lady’s uterus. Momma often helped me with homework.

Jessica pointed to a series of footprints on the floor. “Wendel, go dance the waltz with her.” She turned to a squat, round speaker and tapped it three times. An orchestra’s lovely music filled the room.

“The waltz? I don’t know ho-”

“Just stand on the starting steps and let your bodies move you to the music.” The clerk gestured at me to go to my mother.

I met Mommy on the walt’z starting steps. She looked radiant and so magnificently tall! She took my left hand in her right one, and she placed my other hand on the back of her hips. Her left hand reached around my shoulder and held there. I stared up at her loving face. The music felt like we stood in warm, ocean waves. I took a step to my next footprint. Mom stepped around me to hers.

Then we were dancing!

We twirled and whirled. Our feet took control of our bodies, and the music taught them the way. I found myself gazing into Mommy’s breasts as they swayed and quivered. I looked up into her shining eyes. Wow. We both felt but didn’t say the word while dancing round and round, never bumping into anything - as if the room expanded to fit our every step. Mom’s hands burned excitement into my body. I wanted to pull her close and kiss her, but her lips were too far above me. She breathed very quickly, as if each breath was swept away by each step.

The music swelled to a climax and ended with a shout from every instrument.

Mother and I stood panting, our feet having stopped with the music.

“Mommy, I want you to try those shiny black ones next.” I pointed, needed to repeat that amazing but short experience.

The black pair were called Slingbacks, and they were very tall. They were also made from a special material, one that could be polished into a glossy exterior. Mom thanked Jessica when the clerk returned with a pair her size, and fitted them to her feet. “It’s all part of our tradition, Ma-am.”

Even though she had walked easily in the Pins, Mom took a minute to adjust to the shining, black Slingbacks. Jessica had me stand on a different pair of starting steps. Gold letters next to the silver prints said, “Salsa.”

When Mother had mastered the taller heels, she walked up to me and took my hands in hers. The clerk tapped the squat speaker and sexy, jazzy, band music grew quickly in volume. Mommy and I took our first steps simultaneously. The music elated our hearts, and we laughed - as we danced and danced!

When the salsa music ended, I thought I was having a heart attack. I had to sit in the chair and heave air in and out of my young lungs. Mom leaned against the side of the women’s shoe case and took off the Slingbacks. She returned them to Jessica. “They’re wonderful.” She looked at me with a wan smile. “Are these the ones?”

I scanned the shelves. “Those ones, Mommy.” I pointed to a massive pair of Platforms that glittered bright red from a scaled skin of brilliant sequins. I want you to go home with those.”

“I’ll be right back.” Jessica vanished behind the small door. This time she didn’t reappear right away.

What happened totally surprised us. The painted door actually opened and a portly old man, wearing blue overalls on top of rust red long johns, and sporting a massive mane of white hair with full beard, stepped into the saleroom. “Sweetheart?” he looked around in confusion. Spotting us, he bowed more gracefully than anyone would have imagined for his age and shape. He chuckled heartily upon standing straight. “I thought my wife was here.”

The narrow door flew open then. Jessica strode in, two glittering, scarlet Platforms in one hand. “Grandpa! What are you doing out so early?” She stopped still, stunned by the aged elder’s presence.

“Grandpa?” The jolly geezer faked a frown. “Why only a few days ago, you called me Daddy.” He blinked and ducked his head briefly. “In fact, I’m sure you were my wife before that.” He scratched his head, through thick hair, looking confused again.

“Go on, back to bed, Da- I mean Gramps. You need to be sleeping, dreaming of good little children and their parents. It’s not time for you to be working.”

“If you say so.” The heavyset elder sighed and trudged away through the large, semi-hidden door. Before it closed, we heard him grumble. “I could have sworn this was the night. I can smell that special kind of love. It’s very strong.”

“Please excuse the old-dude.” Jessica blushed. “His sense of time isn’t what it used to be.”

Although I had just seen the painted door open, when it closed it looked exactly like a painting again. I blinked at it and looked to Mother for reassurance.

“He’s very charming.”

“Yeah,” Jessica’s eyes twinkled. “He’s dealt with a lot of troubles in the last score of years, but he’s still got that magic.” She held out the massive, scintillating pair of Platforms. She was clearly stronger than her curvy body suggested.

Momma looked away from the high heels to me. “Are you sure?” She thought they were far too expensive for whatever I had saved. Her fingers fiddled with the snap of her small, shoulder slung purse. Somehow she had danced without it troubling us.

I asked the clerk. “What dance are we going to do next?”

Jessica cleared her throat and apologized. “We don’t have the steps here for that dance.”

Mother said. “That’s okay. Everybody knows it by nature, although few know how to really enjoy it.”

My jaw dropped open, wide enough for a melon.

The women saw my reaction and for some reason judged it to be my full agreement. The clerk asked Mother. “You can try them on.”

“Thank you, no. Every pair has fit so comfortably, Jessica. I trust you. Wrap them up.” She unsnapped her purse.

I jumped in. “Gift wrap them, Ma-am. Please? I’m gonna pay...

... um, how <gulp> m-much are they?”

Jessica answered gravely, “These shoes cost exactly - two hundred, thirty three dollars and fifty-eight cents, including sales tax.”

Mom and I kept quiet along the drive home. Jessica had included in the gift box a complimentary pair of black stockings. “They’re special and never need washing. Just hang them up to dry, and they’ll be cleaned perfectly overnight.”

I alternated between holding Mom’s right hand and folding both of mine upon my lap. The box in the back seat was wrapped in gold foil and tied with a purple bow. I had buckled the seatbelt around it for protection. Mom hummed nervously as she drove.

In the mail box at home, there was a letter from my father but with his father’s name on it. I handed the gift box to Mother so I could tear up the envelope and its contents. I started to cry. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I wish I could have done more, sooner.”

Mother was uncharacteristically stern. “Don’t you dare cry on this special day, Wendel. Come inside, and have a rest.

Mom locked the front door after we entered our home. She led me to her bedroom and doffed her robin’s egg blue sweater. She kicked off her plain brown flats. “You’ve had a busy afternoon.” Momma lay upon her bed and opened her arms. “Come here, Sweetie.”

I crawled upon the warm comforter and across it to her. I nestled my head in the crook of her neck and eyed the intoxicating gap between her breasts. We wrapped our arms around each other. My tears had dried, but my penis was still hard. It hadn’t relaxed since seeing mom wear her first pair of high heels at On Top of the Whirled. A great lethargy swept over me, and I sank into slumber.

Momma kissed the top of my head when I woke up. “How do you feel?” The room was dark. Night had fallen, but dull pink wall-plugs lit up our home’s walkways.

The relentless stiffness in my penis compelled me. “I want to give you my present.”

“Now?” She sounded surprised.

“Yes, Mommy.” Suddenly, very awake, I scrambled off the bed and fetched the gold wrapped box with its wide, purple bow. I ran back to Mom and held it out. “I love you, Mommy. I don’t ever want you to be small again.”

She swung her legs over her side of the bed, sat up, and accepted the package. “You’ve grown into a big boy, Wendel. You make me feel very strong and tall.” She carefully untied the bow, then eased its ribbon free of the box. Upon setting the length of velvet upon her nightstand, she abruptly giggled! Mommy grinned mischievous eyes at me, and with her fingernails, tore into the golden wrapper. “I wonder what’s inside?” Her grin expanded to threaten both of her ears.

“Oh, you know already!” I laughed at her silliness.

She was as gentle with the white box as she had been with the now shredded wrapper. She ripped off the top, flung away the packing tissues, and peered inside. Her grin shrank to a sweet, straight line between her lips. “They’re beautiful!”

Two gorgeous, shimmering red, huge shoes waited to be properly used. Their narrow but sturdy heels flashed and shimmered in the darkness.

Releasing the box she lunged forward and hugged me. “Thank you! I love you so much!”

Uncommon strength filled my heart from her embrace. Mother had never been small nor short nor weak. She had surmounted terrible circumstances and had given me life, love, and now something special. My heart accepted what I had to do then.

I pulled out of my mother’s warm embrace and reached out to her blouse. I took the top button into my fingers and popped it from its eye. “You need to put them on, so we can dance.” I unbuttoned the next, lower eye.

“Why are you undoing my shirt, Honey?” Her voice was calm and accepting however.

“Because it’ll get in the way.”

“Oh.” Mom bit her lip. She waited then while I released all of her top’s buttons. She helped me remove the shirt by shrugging her shoulders while I pulled off the short sleeves and tossed the garment over the bed’s side.

I paused for a good look at her bare skin and white C-cup bra. Her smooth, tan skin blushed upward from the top of her boobs and faded right below her eyes. “Are you sure I can’t wear this?” She looked at her bra

“No, Mommy- I mean, yes I’m sure.” A little awkwardness rose between us.

She giggled and reached behind her back. I didn’t know anything about bras, and I was surprised when the firm cups loosened and the back straps fell at her sides. “Do you want to take it off of me?”

I nodded but had to lean forward to take hold of the shoulder straps. Looking down, I saw the entire gap between my mother’s breasts. My throat contracted. It was a special moment because that sexy little gap would mean little to me once I bared Mommy’s big titties.

Again, Mom shrugged to let me pull the straps down and off of her arms. I then witnessed for the first time the lovely sight of my mother’s naked, upper body. My stiff penis twitched behind my short pants and underwear.

I had seen pictures of breasts, even some museum paintings. None were as beautiful or arousing as my mother’s bare bosom. Her mounds were the perfect size for my young hands. I ached to touch them, play with their dark nipples which expanded and firmed up. My eyes roamed her chest. The dark buds looked very long compared to mine, although the tips of my pinkies were probably a little bigger.