darkmoon

Welcome! Awesome channel and awesome pictures! Oh and, yes, awesome heels too. Absolutely stunning boots. Well done, keep 'em coming. PS: My professional soul urges me to say that those two golden inverted chevrons on your boots are the Italian Army and Air Force rank insignia for sergeants. Funny, isn't it? No, not really. But this doesn't change that your heels are by far the best ones I've ever seen. Good job!

Name: James Age: 21 Gender: Male Location: Vicenza, Italy Occupation: Interpreter, U.S. Air Force Height: 5'' 7'' Weight: 165 lbs Shoe size: US 9/Italian 42 What's your favourite heel style: Not too thin, high, hits well the floor What's your favourite shoe style: Traditional black pumps, boots and sandals Do you wear your heels outside: Nope. What is: (a) Your favourite heel height: Between 4'' and 4''2' ( Your highest heel height: I think I saw a 5''-something once How often do you wear: Never wore (a) Your favourite heel height: N/A ( Your highest heel height: N/A Do you wear socks, hose, stockings or bare feet with your shoes: socks. Anything else you wish to add: "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country." That's all I had to say, your Honor.

Yeah, darkmoon, you´re right. Heels look much better on a nice girl.

But have you ever tried a pair of yourselve, just to get the feeling.

I´ve tried and now i`m dependent, like many other Heel Junkys, here in this Forum.

Nope, I've never tried and, frankly, it's not in my interests to try that.

First of all, because I wouldn't like that - or I think so. Never tried that. I don't think I would feel any thrill or something like that...

In the second place, I live with three male roomates, so that's just it, and where we live there isn't much privacy. Think to about sixty men who live all together and share the same facilities.

The most feminine thing over here is shampoo.

Going around on high heels would likely cause me a lot of trouble. A hell of a lot.

In the third place, I don't know where I could purchase high heels. My girlfriend, as I said, has only two pairs of them (a pair of 2'' black pumps and a pair of 2''7' brown boots) and none of them would fit my foot anyway. Way too small.

Just to make me happy - smart girl - she sometimes puts them on, but frankly she's quite awkward and so I tell her to switch back to her Converses, she's still the prettiest girl on Earth.

I just remembered that when I was a young kid, maybe eight or nine, I went to a wedding ceremony. I sat right next to an older friend of the bride, a nice twentysomething blonde girl, and she was wearing a pair of beatiful, traditional black, shiny pumps with 4'' stiletto heels. I stared the whole time at her shoes, I think.

Could we call this 'imprinting'?

Anyway my girlfriend is definitively an enemy of heels: "those torture instruments", as she says. "And anyway I'm too tall." Poor girl, I really love her very much, but sometimes she's just silly.

Welcome Jim! Italy is a beautiful country, must be a lovely place to live.

Yup! I really got a good deal on that. The place's stunningly interesting. Italians aren't so friendly as one could imagine, but you can still get along well with them.

Luckily I had taken several Italian AP courses in high school, so I was readily taken in as an interpreter/translator and sent where they speak Italian: in Italy.

Not a very interesting job, to say the truth, at least at my level, but it's easy and pays well. And Italy is a nice spot. Far better than, say, Germany or South Korea, IMHO. Or Afghanistan.

And Italian women often wear heels on Saturday night, so you always know where to spend a nice evening.

We were at the pub one evening, when six Italian girls - already quite drunk (they don't have a drinking law in Italy:beers:) - staggered inside on their heels: the lowest ones were 3'', the highest were surely above 4''2'. The whole pub turned their head to hear this hypnotic 'click click' on the wooden floor. Even my friend Peter laughed and said: "Look at the stiltwalkers" then screamed in his bad Italian: "Hey, girls, do you mind a few drinks with battle-weary veterans?". They minded, unfortunately.

But this was before I met my girlfriend: from there on, no more heels for me. Only Converses and Nikes. Jeans and t-shirts. No skirts, heels, dresses.

It's an exercise of self-deprivation, for as I see it.

--Jim

Premise 1: This story is mainly true. However, names will be changed and probably I'll enhance some details to make everything more pleasant to read.

Premise 2: I don't know how long will this little story come out: I think a few chapters. We'll see.

Chapter I

"Boy, what are you looking to?" said Isabel. She was a beatiful Hispanic 16-years old girl who had just blossomed in her womanhood. Long shiny black hair, perfect body, pretty face. She wore a short black dress and a pair of 4'' sandals.

"Nothing" shly answered James. He was a boy of her same age, but this was the only thing they had in common.

James was an A student, Isabel barely had passing grades.

Isabel had lots of friends and boyfriends, Jim only a couple of friends and no girlfriend in the foreseeable future, let alone in the present.

James had two big and strong brothers, Isabel three equally-beatiful sisters.

"So, look to something else. There's plenty of furniture to stare at" harshly answered Isabel. In her head, she thought that the brown-haired boy was staring at her breasts. Wrong. He had been caught by her shoes, how quickly she danced in them, how prettily her heels hit the floor at every step.

People danced and laughed around James. Sophomore year's prom. He didn't know why he had come. Now he regretted not staying at home, watching a movie in TV, playing with the PC, reading. Beatiful girls danced with handsome boys, flying on the floor as butterflies.

"Jim, come here with us!" called Florence. She was the only girl who spoke with him: she happened to be a nerd, quite good with maths but with few friends. Just like James, although he was more skilled in English than in maths. He walked towards her, in a corner of the room. She was wearing a T-shirt, a pair of jeans and blue flatties.

Florence was a tiny, skinny girl with no breasts, many zits and unattractive brown hair.

"Are you getting bored?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Same goes for me". Nobody had wanted to dance with her. It's a cruel age, James thought.

"What time is it?" asked James.

"Ten p.m.. Too early to go home, if you're thinking the same as me" flatly answered Florence.

Isabel jumped near them, with her boyfriend, Zachary.

"I love you, Man!" she uttered, kissing him in the mouth. James' eyes irresistibly went down to her half-naked feet, and her clicking heels. They went out, and disappeared in the bushes. Later that summer, James learnt that she had 'done it'. And had got pregnant. Luckily, an early-term miscarriage saved her from the shame of abortion.

But, differently from the rest of the school, James did not think to her pregnancy. He could not stop thinking to her heels, to how well they hit the floor at every step, the neat 'click' sound which made him shake in his clothes. And whenever he thought to them, he could not save himself from thinking that, when he would have had a girlfriend, he would have surely chosen one who wore high heels. All day. All time.

Hello everybody. My name is James and I'm 21. I live in Vicenza, Italy although I'm from Syracuse, NY. I wash floors and deliver coffee for a living. Seriously, I work as an English-Italian interpreter I'm medium height, thin and brown-haired. I came to like high heels when I was 14 and my neighbors' daughter received permission from her mother to wear high heels to a small neighborhood party. She wore black pumps with quite short heels, maybe 2''. Well, you know how these teen, hormone-fueled things go: I definitively developed a crush for her. Later on, I grew up and stopped thinking to her, but I retained a little love for heels. I wasn't exactly popular in high school - quite a nerd, to be sincere. Cruel age. I was in the top 10% of my class, but I did not attend college. Anyway, just because I'm unlucky, I'm dating with an Italian girl who is quite a tomboy, and has wore heels three times in her 20-years long life. I'm discreetly trying to convert her to true faith, but I'm having little luck so far. I hope I'll have fun on this forum! Bye! --James Robert. But for you I'm just Jim. EDIT: Just for you to know, I don't wear high heels or do anything of those fetish things. I just like heels on nice girls! :-)