Hot Sex Instead Of Dancing Ch 17

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*

Walter shows Tiffany his extensive women's shoe collection.

"I'm sorry I mentioned my stripper clothes," she said with sadness. "Maybe some other time. I'll bring out all of my bras and panties for you to see them, touch them, and sniff them another time," she said with a laugh. "Okay?"

No doubt she was kidding about him sniffing her panties but he was serious about sniffing the panties she wore while stripping off her clothes as a professional stripper. He could just imagine all of the fancy panties and barely there G-strings she had as part of her costumes and stripper clothes. He'd love nothing more than to see her panties and bras, touch her panties and bras, feel her panties and bras, and sniff her panties while feeling her bras. He could only imagine her bras. He could only imagine her panties. With her looking phenomenal while wearing just her panty and bra, he'd love for her to give him a fashion show of her stripper clothes. He'd love for her to give him a private striptease show with her stripping off her panty and bra and putting on a new bra and panty to strip those off too.

"That's okay. Don't worry about it," he said waving a hand of understanding and shrugging his shoulders as if seeing her stripper clothes while watching her putting them on and stripping them off wasn't such a big deal when surely it was.

How many men have an ex-stripper as a neighbor and a friend? How many men have had sex with an ex-stripper? How many men would love to watch their wives and/or girlfriends strip in front of a group of horny and appreciative men? In the way he watched his wife, Linda, having sex with his three friends, Jim, Henry, and Tom, how many men would love to watch their wives having sex with other men? He hoped that Linda would agree to have sex with Bill, which no doubt she would agree to having sex with him, especially after he had sex with Bill's beautiful, black wife, Tiffany.

"I don't want to ruin the good mood that I'm in right now by pulling things out of my closet and out of my past that are filled with bad memories and that will make me sad," she said. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I do," he said. "I feel the same way about my cross dressing clothes. A bittersweet feeling with me torn between the sexual excitement of dressing like a woman, only to feel shame and remorse while riddled with guilt after I do. Having and trying to keep sexual secrets in Puritanical, Bible thumbing, moral America, is sometimes a difficult cross to bear," he said.

"With me being an ex-stripper, I know exactly what you mean. I'd never want my neighbors to know that I stripped off my clothes for money. No doubt, thinking me a whore and/or a prostitute who'd steal their husbands, they'd have nothing to do with me," said Tiffany.

"I wish I could come out of the closet to tell everyone that not only that I'm a cross dresser but also that I'm a collector of women's panties and shoes. Wishing that I could sing and dance, sometimes I wish I had the talent of a female impersonator. Then, I could dress as a woman and appear in public every night while being paid for my shows," he confessed.

He looked at her knowing that she understood him as much as he understood her.

"Now that I have a normal life, as normal as any black woman can have being married to a white man, with a cop for a husband and a cross dresser as a lover," she said laughing, "I'm happy. Still feeling shame, regret, and sorrow, I'm not proud that I had to strip off my clothes to survive. Yet, I'm lucky nothing bad ever happened to me."

"You got that right. With all of the weirdoes and whackos you came in contact with while stripping yourself naked, you're lucky someone wasn't waiting for you to emerge from doing your show. You're lucky that no one followed you home," said Walter.

"I met Bill at the strip club. Long before we were married with Bill moonlighting at the bar as security, just as I'm lucky I had Bill there to protect me, I'm glad we both no longer work there." She looked at him for understanding. "Do you understand?"

She touched his hand and he gave her hand a squeeze.

"I do. I understand Tiffany," he said. "Don't worry about it. Another time, whenever you're in the mood, I'd like to know you better by learning about your past. I'd like for you to give me a fashion show of all of your stripper clothes. I'd love for you to give me a striptease. You can use the pole in the cellar," he said with a dirty laugh.

She gave him a big smile. If he thought that Tiffany was pretty before, she was so much prettier when she smiled. The most beautiful black woman he's ever seen, she was even prettier than Beyoncé.

"Thank you for being so understanding Walter," she said leaning into him and kissing him. "Besides, rather than showing you my stripper clothes, after having seen your panty collection, I'd much rather see your shoe collection," she said. "I love shoes."

Another one of his fetishes he's never shared with anyone, with not his wife and with none of his friends, especially with not his wife and friends, he was thrilled that Tiffany wanted to see his collection of shoes as much as he wanted to show her his collection of shoes.

"It would be much easier for you to come to my house," he said. "I have boxes of shoes in the attic. Linda never goes up there because she's afraid of spiders."

"Spiders? Yuck. I am too," she said making a face and shaking herself as if she was a wet dog. "I don't like spiders."

He laughed at her fear of spiders. Filing that away, maybe he could scare her sometime with a phony spider. He saw one that's remote controlled. Only, knowing her, she'd probably hit it with one of his shoes and break the toy as well as the heel on his shoe.

"Don't worry. I had the attic fumigated. I have a man who comes once a year to rid us of any pest and rodents. Trust me, there's no spiders in my attic but as long as Linda thinks there are, my secret shoe collection is safe from her knowing that I have a shoe fetish with dozens and dozens of shoes hidden in boxes in the attic," he said.

As if having a sudden epiphany, Tiffany gave him a surprised look.

"We need to do that with our attic too. Wasted space, if I knew there were no spiders and mice up there, I used the attic for storage more," she said.

Walter imagined her storing her stripper clothes in her attic after she had it fumigated. Maybe she could give him a striptease show in her attic. Maybe she could use the long strip of attic as her fashion runway in modeling him her stripper clothes.

"Having the attic insulated and sheet rocked helps too," he said.

He looked around the attic with pride at all the work he's done.

"It looks nice," she said. "With Bill working when he's not sleeping, he doesn't have the time for home repairs. Maybe we can hire you to do the work," she said with a dirty laugh. "I'll pay you with sex."

Walter imagined Tiffany sucking his cock while he was installing insulation and sheet rock.

"With my panty fetish hidden in my closet, Linda never pokes around in my closet because that's where I keep my hunting clothes. I swear she thinks she's going to find a dead animal in there. My panty fetish his safe from her in there," he said. "Terribly difficult to hide that from her with all the women's clothes that I have hidden, I suspect she knows about my cross dressing but I don't think she knows about my panty and shoe collections."

Walter collected his panties, boxed them, and went next door to his house with Tiffany in tow.

* * * * *

"I've never been here without Linda," said Tiffany. "It seems strange to be in her house when she's not home," she said making eye contact with him. "This may sound strange but I feel the same way now as I do when going in someone's house after their funeral and paying my respects to the family after they died. It gives me the creeps to be in her house without her here," she said.

Something else they had in common, sensitivity, compassion, and a unique understanding of people's emotions. Walter looked at her with as much compassion and understanding as she was looking at him. He attributed his sensitivity to cross dressing. Just as it's difficult for him not to feel the confidence and the inner strength of women when dressed as a woman, it's difficult for him not to feel the sometimes pitiful and helpless plight of women when dressed as one.

"I was thinking the same thing when I went in your house. I've never been in your house when Bill wasn't home," he said. "It seemed strange not having either of them around when it's always been the four of us talking, drinking, laughing, or barbequing out back."

She shook her head with sadness before looking up at him smiling.

"Well, now it's the just two of us," said Tiffany giving him a long, wet kiss. "I never thought in a million years that I'd be having sex with you, my next door neighbor, and Bill's best friend."

Surrendering her his tongue, Walter returned her passionate kiss with his passionate kiss while feeling her sweet ass.

"How about something to drink or eat. I have coffee, tea, water, soda, or beer. Scratch beer. Never will I drink beer again," he said with a laugh. "I can make you a sandwich. We have cold cuts or peanut butter and jelly."

She gave him a look as if to say all that she wanted to drink was his cum. She gave him a look as if to say that all she wanted him to eat was her.

"Don't be foolish Walter. You can have a beer if you'd like. You just can't be stinking of beer when expecting to have sex with me," she said. "So how about those shoes? I love looking at shoes."

He was excited about showing her his shoes. With Linda always home, he never spends as much time with his panties and shoes as he'd like. If he lived alone, he'd have a private dressing room filled with panties and shoes. If he lived alone, he'd no longer have to hide his fetish. If he lived alone, he could walk around his house dressed as a woman all day, every day.

Only, just once, he'd love to go out dressed as a woman and he almost did, until Tiffany saw him. Yet, him having sex with Tiffany was way better than going out dressed as a woman. He was glad that she caught him wearing his wig, his dress, and his makeup. Just as he couldn't believe her ex-lover was cross dresser, he couldn't believe that Bill was lusting over Linda in the way he's been lusting over Tiffany.

"Let's move our little party to the attic," he said going upstairs to pull down the trap door and the stairs in the hall that led to the attic.

He led the way to put on a light while Tiffany followed behind him.

"Wow! This is so neat and orderly. My attic has junk everywhere. My attic smells of mold and mildew. Your attic doesn't. I should do to my attic what you did to your attic. I should have my attic fumigated too," she said.

Looking just as proud as if he was about to show her his old United States Marine Corps uniform that he wore in the service along with the medals he's won, he walked her to the center of the huge room.

"Here they are," said Walter walking up to six, large boxes in the middle of the floor. "I have other boxes with other shoes, but these are the shoes I bought since I've been married to Linda. I lined them with some cedar chips to keep them from getting funky."

As if she was the only guest invited to a private yard sale, Tiffany's eyes widened when she opened the first box.

"Wow," said Tiffany not waiting for him to open the others and opening up box after box. "You have so many shoes. I've never seen as many shoes other than those in a shoe store. You have nearly as many shoes as Imelda Marcos," she said with a laugh.

She looked from the shoes to look at him before returning her focus stare back to the shoes.

"Imelda who?"

Perhaps the premier women's shoe collector in the world would escape most men but with him having a shoe fetish, she looked surprised that he didn't know who Imelda Marcos was. Long before her time, with her born in 1981 and Marcos reign of terror from 1965 to 1986, even she knew who Imelda Marcos was.

"She was the late wife of the late dictator, the President of the Philippines, Ferdinand Marcos. She had more than 3,000 pairs of shoes that she stored in the Royal Palace in Manila," said Tiffany.

He looked at her shocked that a woman, even a wealthy woman would have so many shoes. How could she wear them all? Where did she keep them all? He couldn't even begin to imagine how big her shoe closet was.

"Wow! I guess shoes were her fetish too," he said. "I don't have that many shoes but I'm sure that I have a couple hundred pair."

With all the shoes stored in their original boxes, Tiffany looked from box to box to box.

"How should I do this? Should I take some out of each box? I don't want to dump them all out of your boxes," said Tiffany. "To be honest, I'd rather do other things, if you know what I mean, than just look at shoes," she said with a dirty laugh.

Damn, Bill was right. They just had sex and now she's looking for sex again.

"I know what you mean," said Walter returning her look but not taking her up on her offer of sex.

Seemingly she was always ready for sex. If he had known she was as sexual and as horny, he would have made a pass at her a long time ago. Only, she was the wife of his best friend. He couldn't do that to Bill. Now that he had his permission to have sex with his wife, he was okay with having a sexual relationship with her. Only, careful what he wished for, with him so much older than her and her so much younger than him, seemingly she was more woman than he was man.

"Do you understand what I mean? I don't think you do," she said fingering his cock through his pants.

He watched her fondling his emerging erection through his pants before looking up at her with sexual arousal.

"Trust me, I do Tiffany. Only you've exhausted me," he said.

He was starting to understand why Bill was eager to unload his wife on someone else. Seemingly insatiable, she was quite the handful sexually. If only he had met her fifteen years ago when she was 18-years-old and he was 33-years-old, he'd be having sex with her non-stop, around the clock and in every room of her house and his house. If only he had met her ten years ago when she was 23-years-old and he was 38-years-old, he'd have more sexual energy than he does now. If only he had met her even five years ago when she was 28-years-old and he was 43-years-old, he'd be more of the sexual match for her. Only at 48-years-old and with her 33-years-old, he was already old and tired and she was just getting into her prime.

"Well, if I can't persuade you to have sex, let's see some shoes," she said laughing.

Walter opened another one of his boxes of shoes.

"This box has my most recent shoe purchases. You may want to go through these first. Feel free to take any and as many pairs of shoes that you like. It would be cool to see them on your feet," he said.

Something he wouldn't even offer to his wife, he offered his shoes to Tiffany. She dug through the open box of shoes.

"I feel like a little girl at Christmastime," she said.

Walter looked at his shoes with pride before looking up at Tiffany with love. He opened up another box marked, shoes by style. He removed box after box after box of shoes that were all stored in a much larger box.

"I have ankle strap, ballet flats, booties, boots, canvas shoes, clogs, combat boots, cowgirl boots, espadrilles, flats, shoes with fringe, Roman gladiator shoes, jellies, kitten heel shoes, and lace up shoes," he said pulling shoe after shoe from his boxes. "I have Mary Janes, moccasins, motorcycle boots, Oxfords, peep toe shoes, platform shoes, pumps, sandals, sling backs, slippers, slip-ons, sneakers, stacked heels, stilettoes, and tons of high heels in every style and color," he said pulling out different style shoes that weren't the same.

Tiffany sat on the carpeted attic floor while looking at him in total amazement.

"You pretty much have every style of shoe," said Tiffany. "Even women don't have this many shoes," she laughed. "No woman that I know has every style of shoe. Instead we all have our favorites."

He looked at her with curiosity while she stared at his shoes with interest.

"What's your favorite shoe?"

Not even having to think about it, she answered him.

"High heel," she counting with her thumb. "Sneakers," she said counting with her index finger. "And sandals," she counting with her middle finger. "Whether in the summer, fall, winter, or spring, those three style of shoes are all that I wear. I do have winter boots for when there's snow," she said with a laugh. "And I wear my Ugg slippers in the house."

Undeterred that she wasn't as much of a shoe collector as he was, he continued in showing her all that he had by opening up a box marked shoes by designer.

"I have shoes by Christian Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, Manolo Blahnik, Prada, Giuseppe Zanotti, Gucci, Chanel, Burberry, Steve Madden, Michael Kors, and Saint Laurent Paris," he said removing shoe after shoe. "I have shoes by Stuart Weitzman, Versace, Fendi, Christian Dior, Louis Vuitton, Tory Burch, Dolce & Gabbana, Bruno Magli, Cesare Paciotti," he said stopping to look at his shoes with her. "I have shoes by Kate Spade, Lulu Guinness, DKNY, Kenneth Cole Elie Tahari, and picVpic shoes. Whenever I see a new style, I buy it. If I had all the money that I spent on panties and shoes over the years, I'd probably have enough money to buy a new car," he laughed.

Going through shoe after shoe after shoe, Tiffany finally found a pair of shoes that she liked.

"Oh, I like this pair," said Tiffany removing a pair of black Jimmy Choo shoes from the box that had a bright, red bottom and that were never used.

She removed her shoe before trying on the shoe.

"Wait," he said looking at her with alarm.

She looked at him as if he had seen a spider and was about to warn her.

"What?" She looked at him with confusion. "Would you rather I not try on your shoes?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Your free to try on any shoe that I have only you just can't try on these shoes," he said taking the shoes from her hand to hold up to his chest in the way that I kid reclaimed his toy from another child.

"Why not? What's so special about those shoes?"

He acted as if these shoes were special.

"Never been worn, these shoes are brand new. These are Jimmy Choo shoes. These shoes are Oprah's favorite shoes. And to know me is to know that I love Oprah," he said with an unembarrassed laugh. "Matter of fact the only black woman that I love more than Oprah, not counting you, of course, is Beyoncé."

He looked at her as if he was looking at Beyoncé. Only, even without her wearing much makeup, she was better looking and had a much better body than Beyoncé.

"Okay," she said looking at him as if he was nuts.

He looked around the attic for something.

"I need to make sure that your foot is clean before you try on these shoes and any shoes that I have, he said.

He leaned to another unopened box, opened it, and pulled out a hand towel.

"I just took a shower. You know that my feet are clean," she said looking offended.

He looked at her as if he was sexually aroused and, indeed, he was.

"Nonetheless," he said the air of a finicky artist about to paint one of his models. "I need to make sure."

He got down on his hands and knees and started licking her feet, first one foot and then the other foot. Sticking his tongue in between her toes, he sucked her toes, all ten of her toes while looking up at her with her toes still in his mouth.

"You keep that up and you'll be licking and sucking more than my toes," she said with a sexy laugh while rubbing her pussy through her skintight jeans with one hand while fingering her nipple through her blouse and bra with her other hand. "You keep that up and you're going to make me cum. I don't know why you didn't lick my pussy to make sure my pussy was clean when I was trying on your panties," she said with attitude and laughing while putting a hand to her hip.