Cosplay at Comicon

Author's Notes:

First, this story is part of the 2024 Literotica Geek Pride Story Event
, so the subject matter is a bit more light-hearted and fun. Plenty of the adult stuff in here, but also a fair bit of humor and silliness.

Second, if you haven't seen Deadpool, you might not get some of the references.

Third, I was inspired by music when writing this. I recently learned about the key change in music. You can be playing in one key, then switch to a different key mid-song, which changes the sound. I played with that in the writing context.

Fourth, while this is a standalone story, the characters have appeared in three of prior stories. If you like this one, you may like the others.

***

"You want to go where?" I asked, unsure if I'd heard her correctly.

"Comicon!" Layna replied enthusiastically, her striking turquoise eyes twinkling with excitement. "It's the last weekend in July, down in San Diego."

"You're talking about a comic book convention, right?" I asked, still thinking she was messing with me.

"It's more than just that," she countered, still smiling broadly. "It's an experience. They have speakers that present about upcoming movies. Maybe they'll have news on the next Deadpool movie. I know how much you love your boy, Ryan."

It was true. I loved the Merc with the Mouth. He was one of the few Marvel characters I enjoyed. It's like he was designed for a guy like me: a foul-mouthed wise ass who blows peoples' brains out or hacks them to pieces with his twin katanas. However, despite my secret, one-way bromance with Ryan Reynolds, I still didn't want to spend a summer weekend at a geek-fest.

"I used to go to Comicon all the time before we met," she added. "You'll love it. It's so fun!"

"Don't people dress up like it's Halloween?" I inquired, though I was just buying time.

"It's called cosplay, but yes, that's one of the best parts," she answered enthusiastically, her excitement showing no signs of waning.

"Is that how you found those awesome Mortal Kombat costumes that we wore for Halloween last year?" I asked, still trying to buy time.

"Jake?" she asked, the enthusiasm fading as she hit me with her serious voice.

"And how did I not know you were such a nerd?" I joked, hoping to change the subject. "When did that happen?"

"Jake," she said sternly, giving me a no-nonsense expression; her eyebrows cocked, and her head tilted.

"Ugh," I sighed, my shoulders falling. "I don't want to spend a weekend in July at a comic book convention, babe. Can we do something else?" I offered, hoping she'd suggest something else. Anything else.

"Yeah, Jake," she replied, annoyed. "I'm sure there's a game on that weekend that you want to watch. There's always a game on."

'Ouch,' I thought, as I watched my fiancée turn around, walk into our bedroom, and close the door. 'That didn't go well.'

***

I entered my credit card information on the hotel's website and clicked submit. When I received the confirmation of my reservation, I closed the screen and stood up. I sighed, then headed to Layna's office, which was right next to mine.

Layna and I usually worked in the conference room together. However, for the past two days, since I shot her down on going to Comicon, she'd been working in her own office.

The last two days had been tense between us. Layna had been angry at me before. For a year after we met, we shared a mutual dislike for one another. Yet, this time was different. Layna wasn't just angry. She was disappointed in me.

And her disappointment bothered me more than if she'd just been pissed at me. Because, unlike during our one-year feud, I care about Layna now. We were getting married in a month. It pained me to know that I'd disappointed the woman I loved. I never wanted to let her down.

When I thought it through, I understood what she was upset about. Her remark that there was "always a game on," made it clear that she felt we always did the things I wanted to do. Basically, I'd been a selfish prick.

I hadn't seen it that way until she brought it up because we had so much fun together. We worked together and loved our jobs. We exercised together. We ate meals together, where the conversation always flowed, usually about work or wedding plans. We watched television together, usually liking the same shows. And, best of all, we had an incredible sex life.

Layna and I were also different in many ways, though. I was a crude, sport-obsessed cave man. She liked sports, too, and often watched them with me. Yet, she was also far more worldly than me. She liked art, theatre, concerts, dancing, reading books, and, apparently, nerdy shit like Comicon.

Being an athlete and a bachelor up until my thirties, I'd gotten very accustomed to watching sports, reading about sports, or talking about sports all the time. I never had someone in my life with whom I had to compromise. I did what I wanted, didn't ask permission, and had no one to apologize to.

I realized that if I was going to marry Layna--and I wanted to marry her more than anything in the world--then I needed to be more open to doing things she wanted to do. I couldn't do what I wanted all the time. I had to be more flexible if I wanted our relationship to work. And I did want it to work. That was the realization I arrived at earlier in the day.

Her office door was open. I stepped inside, knocked on the door, and asked cautiously, "Hey, can I talk to you?"

She looked up from her computer, her eyes meeting mine, then answered flatly, "Sure. What's up?"

"I've been thinking... "

"There's a change," she mumbled, interrupting me.

I was undeterred.

"I've been thinking that you are right, and I was wrong."

That got her attention. She folded her arms and sat back, her eyes granting me permission to proceed.

"When you made the comment the other day about there always being a game on, I realized I was being selfish. You try to enjoy the things I like, including things you probably wouldn't do if it were up to you. I haven't given you the same courtesy. The same respect. I'm sorry, babe."

"Look, Jake," she began, her tone a little softer. "I don't mind watching sports. I know it's your passion, and I love that about you. Plus, our jobs revolve around sports. I get that it's important to know what's going on. I just don't want it to become the only focal point of our lives. Like, maybe we could watch one, maybe two baseball games on the weekend, instead of four or more."

"I agree," I jumped in. "I want to be better about making sure we're also doing things that you enjoy, which is why I booked us a room in San Diego for the weekend."

Layna's eyes lit up, her smile creeping up at the corners.

"We're going to Comicon," I finished, flashing her a grin.

Layna screamed as she hopped out of her chair, then threw herself at me. She pecked at my lips, cheeks, and neck, as she threw her arms around my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist. I nearly fell over from her assault.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she gushed, the joy in her eyes warming my heart. I met her gaze and saw the look in her eyes that I loved to see. The one that told me she loved me.

"You're welcome, princess," I whispered. "Forgive me?"

"Yes," she answered. "Thanks for thinking about my feelings."

She unwrapped her legs from around me, though kept her arms around my neck.

"Does this mean you'll get dressed up in costume with me?" she asked eagerly.

"Don't push your luck, princess," I replied with a smirk.

"Please," she begged, her lower lip out in a pout, her eyes sad and pleading.

"I'll think about it," I conceded.

"That's all I need," she said. "I think I have a way to help you make up your mind."

Watching Layna's lips curl into a wicked grin, I was concerned about what she had in mind.

***

I looked away from the endorsement agreement I was reviewing to check my watch. Layna had been gone for about forty-five minutes. She said she was running downstairs to grab us lunch, which usually didn't take this long. I wasn't that hungry, but I was a little concerned about how long it was taking her. I decided to give her fifteen more minutes, then dove back into the agreement.

"Excuse me, Professor Maxwell," I heard a sultry voice behind me say from the doorway to the conference room. "I'm having a 'hard' time with your class. Can I talk to you about it?"

I swiveled around in my chair and nearly fell out of it when I saw who, or what, was standing in the doorway.

It was Layna, wearing black rimmed glasses, her long blonde hair in two pigtails, and what, I think, was supposed to be a schoolgirl outfit. It sure as shit wasn't from any school I'd ever attended. The short-sleeved white button-up shirt, pocket protector, and black tie looked normal. However, the very short red, black, and white plaid skirt, sheer white knee-high socks, and black Maryjane pumps looked more like something I'd expect to see worn at a Spearmint Rhino than at any school.

She stared at me coquettishly, her forefinger in her mouth between her teeth, her left knee bent, as she swayed her hips slightly. The classic, "I'm shy but want you to fuck my brains out" pose.

I sat speechless. In my moment of hesitation, I saw it in her eyes. Triumph. She had me right where she wanted me, and she knew it.

"Oh, Professor Maxwell, I would do anything to pass your class," she continued, walking toward me, eyeing me hungrily like I was her lunch. "Just tell me what I can do."

My mouth moved, but no sound came out. I was like a fish out of water, gasping for air.

She grinned.

"It's okay, Professor, I know you can't say what you want," she went on, her hands on my chest while her left knee rested between my legs, right up against my crotch. "I know it could get you fired to say what it is that you want.

"But I know what it is," she said seductively as she pushed against my chest to stand back up. She pulled out a pen from the pocket protector and dropped it on the floor behind her. "Oops."

Layna pivoted on the balls of her feet until she was facing away from me, her ass right in front of my face.

"Looks like I dropped my pen, Professor," she purred. "I better pick it up."

She bent down without bending her knees and I watched that plaid skirt slide ever-so-slowly up until it was only covering half of her ass. She wasn't wearing any panties, leaving her glistening sex and tight rosebud inches from my face. I swallowed hard, closed my eyes briefly, and took in the intoxicating smell of her aroma. My cock was instantly and painfully hard.

"See something you like?" she cooed quietly as she stood up and turned back to face me.

I nodded vigorously.

"Is it hard... " she began, pausing, then continuing, "to have such a bad student in your class?"

I nodded again.

"I don't mean to be a bad student, but I know I'm struggling because I talk too much in your class," she offered. "Maybe you need to do something about my mouth always being open."

Layna grabbed my belt and pulled firmly, my cue that she wanted me to stand up. I followed her lead.

Once I was on my feet, she dropped down to her knees, her hands sliding along my chest, over my stomach, and coming to a rest at my belt. She slowly removed it, as I stared into her eyes through those thick glasses. When the belt was gone, she began to unbutton my pants, moving at a torturously slow place. She just hummed innocently, her two pigtails swishing gently as she removed my pants.

"Would you like me to suck your cock now, Professor?" she asked, just as she gently wrapped her fingers around the base of my shaft.

"Yes," I groaned, my voice hoarse, my throat dry. "I want to see you earn your grade in my class, Miss Donovan."

Layna flicked her tongue teasingly along my tip, softly brushing along the underside, causing my cock to twitch at each contact. It was beautiful, blissful torture.

She moved to full lip kisses on the crown, while her hand began to pump slowly. I grabbed her pigtails, one in each hand, and let out a deep groan when she finally took my head in fully between her lips.

"Does that feel good, Professor?" she asked, still staring up at me with those glasses.

"Fuck, yes," I moaned. "Show me what you can do."

"Yes, sir," she replied, then slipped me deep into her throat, her lips passing more than halfway down my shaft. I felt my cock twitch, and pleasure tingle all over, as she flicked and swirled her tongue along my shaft as she bobbed.

Layna broke eye contact and ramped up the intensity. She fondled my balls with her left hand, stroked me with her right, and bobbed rapidly up and down my shaft, pleasuring it with her lips and tongue. I held tightly to her pigtails, watching her hair swish as she worked me vigorously.

I quickly felt the familiar sensation of a growing orgasm. I was seconds away from coating my naughty little student's mouth. And then she stopped.

My balls and shaft still in her hands, Layna slowly pulled her mouth off my cock. Then she looked back up at me, a lascivious little smirk on her face.

"Do you like the way I'm sucking your cock?"

"Yes," I said quickly, eager for her to finish. "It's incredible. I was about to come."

"Would you like me to finish then?" she teased, giving my shaft a very slow and shallow pump.

"Yes! For God's sake, Layna, I'm so close."

"Are you going to wear a costume with me at Comicon?"

"Yes, I'll wear whatever you want, just please finish."

"Are you going to get into character?"

"Wha--fuck, yes, I'll get into character."

"Would you like to come on my glasses?"

"Now that you put that image in my head I do!" I exclaimed with glee.

Layna took me back into her mouth and picked up where she left off. I rediscovered heaven as she sucked, stroked, and fondled me right back to the precipice.

When my balls tightened, Layna pulled her mouth off and tilted her head back, sticking her tongue out, while her hand continued to stroke me. The sight of her with her mouth open combined with the thought of coming on her glasses, sent me over the edge.

I watched with delight as my cock pulsed, firing thick white ropes across her cheeks, glasses, and forehead. I'd only come on Layna's face a handful of times, and every time was a treat. Like waiting all year for presents on Christmas. As my orgasm wound down, I let out a breath I'd been holding, sending shivers throughout my body.

Layna took that as her cue to take my sensitive manhood back into her mouth, slowly draining the last of my spend as she looked up at me, her turquoise eyes unobstructed by the cum-covered glasses that had slipped down her nose. I savored every little bob and twist, as my cum glacially slid down her cheeks.

"Wow, babe, that was fucking awesome," I exhaled.

"I take it you liked the costume?" she asked, her tongue flicking my tip.

"Oh yeah, it's a keeper," I answered, shuddering as her tongue tickled my sensitive head. "I'm already thinking about what I want to do with you next time you wear that outfit."

"I'm glad you said that," she gloated. "Because now it's official. You're into cosplay. And probably anime based on how much you enjoyed this particular scenario. That makes you a nerd, pretty boy. Welcome to the club."

"Whatever you say, princess." I was in no position to argue.

***

I set my bag near the front door of our apartment, then checked my watch. Layna left the apartment before nine o'clock that morning and it was now mid-afternoon. I'd wanted to hit the road earlier, knowing how bad traffic could be from Los Angeles to San Diego on a Friday.

We planned to drive down to San Diego on Friday, attending Comicon for most of the day on Saturday and Sunday. Friday and Saturday evening, we wanted to hit the bars and restaurants in the Gas Lamp District. Then, after a few hours at the convention on Sunday, we'd make the long drive back up to Los Angeles.

Just as I was about to text Layna, I heard the door open.

"Oh good, we need--" I began to say before a sexy long-legged, redhead strolled into my apartment.

"Hey, babe," Layna greeted me. "What do you think?"

Layna's straight, golden blonde hair was gone. In its place were copper waves that had my pulse pounding. I'd never been into redheads, but Layna looked sensational.

"Excuse me, Miss, but you're way too hot to be here," I said, my eyes popping out of their sockets. "My fiancée will be home any minute."

Then I grinned, "Actually, I've probably got five minutes. Drop your pants so we can fuck before she returns."

Layna stepped to me, placed her hand on my cheek, and kissed me. I was all too happy to return the kiss of my now-redhead future wife.

"I just have one question," I remarked when our lips parted. "Does the carpet match the drapes?"

She chuckled, then purred in my ear, "I don't have carpet. I have a polished marble floor."

"Fuck, I love you," was all I had, my breath having already been taken away.

"Let me just go finish packing and then we can go," she said, walking back into bedroom.

"What's with the red hair, anyways?" I shouted back to her.

"It goes with my costume," she shouted back.

"What's your costume?"

"Black Widow," she yelled back.

Thoughts of Layna in tight black leather had me stirring below the belt. If she looked half as good as Scarlett Johansson, I was in for a real treat.

'Maybe I am into this cosplay shit,' I thought.

"I can't wait to see it," I hollered back. "By the way, did you get me a costume, too?"

"Of course," she answered, walking out of the bedroom with her bag in hand. "If I left it up to you, you'd be wearing a t-shirt and boardshorts."

"True," I admitted. "What did you get me?"

"Come on, babe," she replied, her head tilted with a slight frown, like I should have known the answer. "There's only one costume worthy of my foul-mouthed, sexy fiancé."

"Deadpool," we said simultaneously.

"Oh, by the way, babe," Layna said innocuously. "My sister and some friends are going to meet us there."

"Wait, what?"

***

"This place is great," Layna commented as the live band finished playing 'Paint it Black'.

"Yeah, the music is great," I agreed, guiding her off the dance floor. "It's just hot as hell in here. Let's go get some water."

Based on the recommendation of the hotel receptionist, and Yelp reviews, I'd found us a bar in the famous Gaslamp District of downtown San Diego that was highly regarded for its live music and dancing. Its reputation was apparently well-known because the place was packed; a combination of professional couples there for the music, young Marines and sailors from the nearby naval base looking for a good time, and plenty of girls, young and old, there to hook up with a cute sailor. Due to the crowd, along with the July heat, the place felt like a sauna.

I ordered a couple bottled waters from the bar, while Layna stood next to me and checked her phone. I noticed quite a few sailors ogling Layna's backside. She wore a navy-blue summer dress, which cutoff at mid-thigh, and strappy sandals, which showed off her tan athletic legs. Although the dress was loose fitting enough that she could move in it, it hung close enough to her body to highlight her firm ass and the shape of her hips. I grinned; my fiancé was fucking hot.

"Katie's here," Layna said, taking one of the waters, putting her phone away, and scanning the crowd.

'Great,' I thought.

I'd met Layna's older sister, Katie, a handful of times before, always at family functions or holidays. She wasn't my biggest fan. She was never rude to me, but she wasn't warm or friendly, either.

According to Layna, Katie's first impression of me was not a good one. That's because she formed that opinion when Layna and I still hated each other. Layna and Katie are close, so she complained about me to her sister. Though Layna and I had been together for over a year now, those first impressions of me being an asshole stuck with Katie. Layna assured me she'd warm up to me; it would just take some time.