After all she felt sorry for themen now that they had to wear those killer heels but she also now saw theeffect that they had on the figure of the men...that she saw in the officeand in the street. "So this must be what it's like to be a guy. I likeit," she said to herself, just as two attractive young men walked pasther. They were both wearing short skirts that showed off their long legsand ended in stiletto-heeled shoes, they looked back at her and burst outinto a fit of giggles.Isobel stopped. He’d always been there for me and I suppose I’d always been there for him. I loved him and I loved his girlfriend. I loved being their friend. I loved having them as friends. So yeah, he’d crashed out on my sofa. I just sat there looking at him. Bless him. He looked so sweet when he was pissed. I’d phoned his girlfriend up half an hour ago to tell her that he’d be sleeping at mine tonight, told her he’d crashed out on the sofa. “If you really want me to, Holly, I can phone a taxi for him.” “No. How did he always manage to have the upper hand even when I had him fucking me like a desperate teenager? ?Is this what you wanted, you dirty little slut? To be taken like you're nothing but a hole ready to be used, like you're not even a person anymore?? John said, his heavy breathing the only indication that he wasn't just having an everyday conversation (seriously, how did he do that?) With considerable effort I remembered how to form words. ?YES! Oh fuck, John, FUCK yes?that?that's it. I like to think I can embody a straight guy's fantasies and give him the sex his wife won't and dress in a way genetic women generally can't be bothered to do. So I never wear tights - always seamed stockings, generally with a Cuban heel. I'm also crazy about garter belts with multiple straps, the more, the better. Heels - no less than six inches. A corset - as tight as I can make it. Big tits - the best and most convincing I can afford. A wig of real hair. Hermes for perfume. Then I'm no mean.