A Year in Heels
A Year in Heels The Memorial Day party had wound down and all that was left were my wife and I and our hosts. Patty, my wife, was sitting beside me running her fingers lightly along the inside of my thigh. It was driving me insane. Her fingers glided easily over the silky stocking just below the hem of my skirt. I desperately wanted to guide her hand further up my thigh but instead I just smiled and kept on chatting with our neighbors. Frank and Sheila were sitting across from us....