On closer inspection she realised there were faint teeth marks where she’d bitten him in the throes of passion. ‘Oh, your shoulder!’ ‘What?’...‘I bit you. I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me.’ ‘I don’t mind.’ ‘It didn’t hurt?’ ‘A little, but I liked it.’ She sat up, sliding her fingers into the waist of his jeans, she pulled him towards her and kissed the shoulder where she’d marked him. He caught her eye, he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. She watched him leave. He seemed so familiar. My four inch heels were trying to tilt my ankles way forward. Butmy foot simply wouldn't move. My arch wasn't anywhere near convex enough,like Sharon's, or any other woman's for that matter. When she stooderect, poised in her highest heels, her shins, ankles, and arches allcurved down to the tip of her big toe.But then she'd been wearing high heels all her life, practically, whileI'd been practicing my walk and a few simple dance steps in them onlyduring this past week. Each day, Sharon. More

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