I admit it; I have a massive hose and heel fetish. My wife, Clara, knows nothing about my fetish, but as she never wears either of them, I'm always looking around for women wearing heels. Whenever I go anywhere, either with her or on my own, I'm on the lookout for a nice pair of heels being worn.
I work in an office that is around 95% male, so unfortunately, I don't see many nice heels at work either. However, occasionally, I spot a few, and they always catch my attention. One of the senior managers always wears a nice pair with a knee-length dress or skirt, which is always a treat to see on her rare visits to our room.
One evening, my wife and I attended a wedding reception for one of my wife's work colleagues. I wasn't too fussed about going, but the thought of seeing some hose and heels encouraged me that I might have a good time after all.
When we arrived at the reception, the place was packed. Most people had been there for a while and were pretty well hammered already.
We went to a quiet spot, found a table, and sat beside Clara's friends.
I sat looking towards the dance floor, my eyes wandering to the shoes each of the women walking by was wearing. I was pleased to see that the vast majority were wearing some form of heel. Although my tastes are slightly specific, I enjoyed looking at the various women.
Clara leaned close to me and shouted above the noise of the live band, "Have you seen the heels Michelle is wearing tonight? I'd break my neck in those."
I knew exactly who she was referring to. Of course, I'd already spotted her shoes; I'd been watching her for the last ten minutes on the dance floor. A dark-haired, slender-framed beauty with a pair of black stiletto platform heels. I feigned ignorance and asked who she was referring to.
"Michelle, over there, dark hair and killer heels."
"Oh yeah," I said, "perhaps you should get a pair. I'll buy you some for your birthday," I joked.
"Don't waste your money," she laughed; they would never get worn and would live in the box.
As the evening went on, Michelle sat at our table, which wasn't ideal as I couldn't see her shoes anymore. Clara spent most of the evening drinking and talking to her friends, and to be honest, I was more than ready to leave when we did.
Clara was a little worse for wear. Michelle and her husband Mark had already offered to drop us off at home on their way home. As Mark didn't drink, he was the designated driver of the rented minibus that was now crowded with people. We got home, and Michelle helped me drag Clara off the bus. "Need any help getting her home?" she asked as Clara decided to sit down on the footpath.
I could get her home safely, but I accepted her offer for some reason; maybe it was because I wanted to watch her walking in those shoes. She returned to the bus and grabbed her bag, saying something to her husband, who nodded. She helped me guide Clara home as the bus drove away. "He's coming back to pick me up later," she said.
We walked down the quiet cul-de-sac, Clara resting between us as I unlocked the door. I picked Clara up and carried her upstairs, dumping her on the bed and awkwardly removing her dress while she was muttering something incoherent. I lay her back and covered her with the duvet, and she was out, cold.
I left her and went downstairs; Michelle was standing in the hallway waiting for me. "Is she ok?" she asked.
"Yeah, fine. She won't remember a thing in the morning," I laughed. "Drink?"
"Yes, please, coffee. Had enough wine for one night."
"Yeah, at least you know when to stop," I laughed, directing Michelle into the kitchen. Her heels on the hard floors excited me. It was the first time I had heard such a thing in our house, and I took every opportunity to look at her feet.
"When is Mark coming back?"
"I guess he'll be about an hour," she said, looking at the clock.
"Let's go into the lounge then," I said, pointing the way. Michelle walked ahead of me, and I took in her body. She walked with a slight swagger in her hips. She sat in the chair, and I switched on the TV to break the silence between us and the noise of Clara snoring loudly upstairs.
"Now that's something to take the piss out of next week," I laughed as she sat and listened to the noise from upstairs.
Michelle kicked off her shoes, "Ahh, that's better," she said, "I love these shoes, but they start to hurt after a while."
"Yes, they are very nice," I said, looking at them now that they were the centre of conversation. "I offered to buy Clara a pair, but she refused, saying she would break her ankle or neck in them."
"Nah, they are easy to wear and fit like a glove, plus they make my legs and ass tighter," she smiled.
They certainly did, I thought to myself.
"Perhaps we should work on her for you," she laughed.
"That would be good, but you're onto a loser from the start; I've been trying for years."
Just then, her phone rang, "Hi Mark. Oh shit, no. Where are you?" There was silence for a moment before she said, "Ok, see you later," and hung up the phone.
"That fucking bus had broken down. It'll be hours before he gets here."
"You could stay the night; there's a few spare rooms upstairs. It's already gone one o'clock, and you won't get home until daylight." I replied.
"You don't mind?"
"Hell no. Ring him back and tell him to pick you up in the morning." She called Mark and told him.
Another half-hour passed, and Michelle started to doze off in the chair. "Perhaps I should hit the sack," she said, yawning loudly.
"Not a bad idea," I said, feeling tired.
I switched off the TV, and Michelle waited for me at the bottom of the stairs, carrying her shoes. She followed me up, and I showed her the bathroom and the spare rooms. Clara was snoring louder than ever as we stood outside the door to my bedroom. "Looks like I'm in for a sleepless night," I said.
"Me too. I'm a light sleeper, and she's really loud. Wow, is that actually coming from her," she chuckled.
"She might stop when I roll her over, but you might be better in that room," I said, pointing to the one furthest away.
"Ok, good night and good luck," she giggled.
"Good night, thanks for helping out," I said.
She turned to face me before entering the bedroom with a wide smile. God damn, she was sexy.
I got ready for bed, climbed in next to Clara, prodded her, and got her to roll onto her side. At last, the snoring stopped.
I lay in bed, thinking about the women and heels I had seen that night. The images overloaded my mind. Then Michelle popped into my head; seeing her sexy body sitting in my favourite chair with a pair of delightful heels discarded on the floor in front of her would provide me with plenty of jerk-off material for the next month.
Eventually, I managed to get to sleep, only to wake a while later to Clara lying behind me, snoring loudly into my ear. "For fucks sake," I said under my breath, rolling her over again, but it didn't stop her.
I gave up, got out of bed, and headed for the other spare bedroom. Leaving the light off, I pulled back the duvet and climbed in. I felt movement and realised that Michelle was also in the bed, "Hi," she said.
I jumped out quickly and apologised, "Sorry, I didn't know you were in here."
"No, it's okay. It's my fault. I should have said I like a double bed, but the other room only has a single."
"Sorry, I'll go to the other room," I said.
