The Third Sister: Sharon

[Stu]

I had been away for several months and came back to revisit the site here to find, to my horror, that many postings between February and July had disappeared. My first two sets of stories about Ana and Maria remain, but the third set of stories about Sharon appear to have been lost in the void of cyberspace. To anyone who might be interested in reading them, here they are. Be warned that it is probably a bit much to read in one sitting... *** On the first Saturday following New Year’s Day 1996, Maria and I were relaxing at home when the phone rang. Maria answered it, and gave the phone to me. “It’s Sharon,” she said, with the suspicious look of a newlywed who by happenstance learns about a woman from her husband’s past. Sharon? I don’t really know anyone named Sharon, I thought. It couldn’t be that Sharon…I spoke with Sharon for over an hour, and by the time I hung up, Maria was all ears. “Now tell me about Sharon,” she said. I explained that Sharon was an old platonic friend from the high school I had attended in a neighboring state. We both worked on the school newspaper. Sharon was bright, earthy and something of a free spirit, with an effusive personality and an interest in just about every subject under the sun. I liked her enough that I asked her out on a date, which was a bit of a disaster because neither of us were ready to pursue even a high school romance. The climax of the evening was when I leaned over to kiss her goodnight and she pulled away from me, badly bruising my still-tender adolescent ego. Despite that disappointment, we remained platonic friends until we graduated. We lost touch after high school, but I saw her at our school’s 10-year reunion in 1991, and we swapped addresses and phone numbers. I had not had any contact with her since. She was calling because she was starting a new job as a nurse at a hospital close to our home, and she was in town to look for an apartment. I was the one person in our metropolitan area that she knew. “She expects to sign a lease on an apartment today, and she should have some time to see us tomorrow before she heads home,” I said to Maria. “I told her to come by. I hope that’s OK. We’ll be the only people in town that she knows, and I figured we should make her feel welcome.” “That’s fine. She confirmed that the two of you aren’t that close when I answered the phone and she called me Pam. She obviously didn’t even know you had been divorced and remarried,” Maria said. I helped Maria prepare a light lunch the following morning. Maria then went into the bedroom to change. She came out wearing a white short-sleeve top, tight blue jeans, and her black 5-inch stiletto sandals. “Is this OK?” she asked me. Maria had gone out and bought several pairs of blue jeans after we had returned home from our cruise the previous month. Her new friendship with Ana had given her a real appetite for provocatively tight jeans. I was not surprised that she wanted to wear jeans, but I was caught offguard that Maria had invoked our little ritual for this occasion. She only needed my concurrence on her attire when she was dressing with the intent of using her feminine appeal to challenge or shock someone. I did not think this was the time for that. “Listen,” I said, “This is only going to be the second time that I have seen Sharon in the 15 years since we graduated from high school. You don’t need to prove anything with her. You can just relax and be yourself.” “What’s wrong with you today? All of a sudden you don’t know your own wife? I AM being myself!” Maria said. “But if it will make you feel better, I’ll go put on a loose pair of slacks and walk around barefoot today.” I immediately apologized and told Maria that she was fine the way she was. “I think the prospect of seeing Sharon put my head in some kind of time warp. She absolutely should see you the way you really are.” Sharon arrived, and she looked pretty much as I had remembered her from the reunion. She was 5 feet 7 inches in height, with long, dark-blonde hair and a pleasant athletic figure. She was dressed pretty much as I had expected: a blue top, baggy brown pants and flat loafers. She was definitely an attractive woman who could appeal to someone with down-to-earth tastes. “Oh, Steve, it’s so great to see you!” she said while giving me a bear hug. I could see a little surprise in her eyes when I introduced her to Maria. “I hope you didn’t dress up for me. My old friend Steve really married a fashion plate,” Sharon told her. Sharon explained over a leisurely lunch that she had been working as a nurse for a number of years at a hospital not far from where we had gone to high school. She had been engaged to a doctor who worked there, but he had called off the engagement a few weeks before the wedding, and Sharon was heartbroken. She could no longer bear to work at the hospital, and wanted to move to a new city to get a fresh start. She said she taped a map to the wall, closed her eyes, threw a dart, and hit our city, and that was how she decided to move to our area. That was classic Sharon, a free spirit who did things her own way. She had little trouble landing a nursing job at our local hospital, and she was due to start the following month. “I’m in a new town, with a new job and a new life. Except for the two of you, nobody knows me. I get to redefine myself, become a different person from who I was, if that’s what I decide to do,” Sharon said. Maria and I gave Sharon a heavily edited account of our own courtship and marriage. “Looking at the two of you, I can’t get over it,” Sharon said. “Steve was this really nerdy guy in high school, and I can say that because I was this really nerdy girl. We tried dating once when we were 16, but it ended up being a sort of brother-sister date. And now Steve ends up with such a gorgeous wife. Look at those heels. After I move next month, maybe I can ask you for some advice on clothes, makeup, that kind of thing. I could benefit from a makeover.” “I’d be delighted,” Maria said. Maria and Sharon said goodbye, and I walked Sharon out to her car. She said, “I’m really happy for you, Steve. I remember how insecure you were around me and every girl in our school, and now you have a bombshell wife. I still can’t get over her heels. I hope she is every bit as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside.” “She is, Sharon. Believe me, she is.” “That’s great, Steve. See you next month.” *** *** Maria and I went to Sharon’s apartment on her move-in day in February to help her unpack and get organized, and to take her out to a welcome lunch. I learned a lot about Sharon as we talked. For example, while I knew Sharon was athletic and had been on the tennis team in high school, I had not known that she had been active in ballet and gymnastics earlier in her childhood. While studying to be a nurse, she had worked as a yoga instructor and also dabbled in some New Age spiritual practices. Maria took a liking to Sharon immediately, which did not shock me. While Maria and Sharon had completely different backgrounds, Maria tends to like people who continue to challenge themselves and seek opportunities for personal growth. Maria was definitely intrigued by Sharon’s eclectic interests. While at lunch, Sharon accepted Maria’s invitation to sample the local shopping hot spots the following day. Sharon was also fine with Maria’s suggestion that Ana come along as well. The following morning, Maria reprised her attire of the day of Sharon’s visit the previous month – a short-sleeve white top, skintight jeans and 5-inch stiletto sandals. This time, Maria did not ask me for my opinion or concurrence. The doorbell rang and it was Ana, dressed similarly in a blue top, skintight jeans, and her 5-inch stiletto mules. “Buenas dias,” Ana said to me as she entered. “I’m looking forward to meeting the woman who was your first date in high school.” She then added, “And don’t you think Maria just sizzles in jeans? You owe me on that, Steve.” “If I were Sharon, I would be totally intimidated by the two of you,” I said. “She’s a down-to-earth lady. Take it easy on her.” “Oh, Steve, you underestimate her. She is tougher and more daring than you think. She can handle us,” Maria responded. “Women know these things.” Sharon rang the doorbell. She was wearing a plain brown top, baggy jeans and tennis shoes, just as I had expected. “How exciting,” Sharon said after we introduced her to Ana. “I’ve never gone shopping with a couple of supermodels before. This will be a new experience.” “Hmm. I don’t think anyone has ever called us models before, have they?” Ana said as she winked at me. The ladies returned hours later with boxes and bags containing various items. Maria was wearing a new coordinated suit she had bought, featuring a dark-purple vest top and matching purple pencil skirt. “I just had to wear it home,” she said defensively. “So, Sharon, how was your day with these two clotheshorses?” I asked. “Very stimulating,” Sharon said. “We engaged in a lot of girl talk. This may come as a total shock to you, Steve, but they’re trying to convince me to wear heels. I have precisely one pair of two-inch heels, so I’m not exactly a true believer. They still need to convince me why I should want to walk on stilts.” Maria said, “We came back here because we wanted you to be part of the conversation, Steve.” “Me? Why drag me into this?” I asked. “OK,” Ana said to Sharon. “First, a warning. Maria and I have some very strongly held views on heels that may not be suitable for prudes and the weak-of-heart. Do we have your permission to proceed?” When Sharon said yes, Ana turned 90 degrees so that we all could see her shapely profile, and she stood fully erect. She turned her head toward us and said, “Where I come from, women wear high heels. Heels are not just a fashion option to be worn with a certain favorite dress. They are an indispensable part of a woman’s femininity. We learn from an early age that femininity encompasses how a woman thinks, how she acts, and how she looks. We’re taught not to be afraid of how we look. We learn to be proud of the longer legs, shapelier behinds, and sexier walks that we get with high heels. Rather than obsess over our imperfections, which women here tend to do, women in Costa Rica and much of the rest of Latin America revel in what we have. Femininity is to be enjoyed, to be celebrated, and not to be covered up. High heels help us celebrate our femininity. And without our femininity, who are we?” “Bravo! You go, girl!” Sharon said, clapping. Maria then turned to address us. She had taken her shoes off while Ana was talking, and she set them down next to her. She briefly dangled one of her bare feet in the air. “This is how we are born, and this is how many women go through life. Many people believe we should wear flat shoes our entire lives because that is what nature intended. But there are always alternatives.” She then eased into her 5-inch heels, turned to the side to give her hips maximum prominence, and looked at Sharon with one of those lustful stares that sends a shiver down my spine whenever she directs it to me. “When a woman steps into high heels, everything changes. Everything. We are taller, our curves are more visible, and we walk to a more sensual rhythm. People look at us, people are attracted to us. Life becomes more pleasurable, more feminine, more sensual. It is like a colorblind person who wakes up one day and sees colors for the first time. Life is never the same again. And you never want to go back to the way things were. Let’s not forget that there are three dimensions: length, width and height. Why should I live my life in two dimensions when high heels enable me to experience that altogether different third dimension? High heels enable me to experience and enjoy life to the fullest. High heels are really about life.” “Wow. I’m speechless,” Sharon said. Maria looked at me and said, “And now it’s your turn, dear. Give us a man’s perspective on women in high heels. You don’t have to strike a feminine pose if you don’t want to.” “Gee, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how I can top either of you,” I said. I took a few seconds to collect my thoughts and said, “Before I met Maria and Ana, I was still a man. I was still attracted to women, and still enjoyed my relationships with women. But after I met these two, it was like Maria said: Everything changed. Their femininity, their sensuality is intoxicating. Every time Maria and I go somewhere, I can’t wait to see what she will wear, what kind of heels will be on her feet. I love looking at her, I love walking with her. Her comfort in expressing her femininity enhances my own masculinity. In other words, she makes me feel like more of a man, and I enjoy life more. And that, for me, is what heels are about. Life is more sensual. It is simply better. Heels improve the quality of life. Not just Maria’s life, but my life, too.” “Very good, Steve!” Maria said. “I didn’t think you had that in you.” I added, “The bottom line, Sharon, is that you have to do what is right for you. Maria and Ana both come from cultures that place an unusual premium on high heels. They do what is natural and right for them, but that does not necessarily mean it is right for you. If you want to experiment with heels, that’s fine, but experiment at a pace and with heights that are right for you.” “Thanks, Steve, I appreciate that,” Sharon said. “I have never been fashionable or glamorous in my life, but this may the right time to make a change in that direction. I have a lot to think about.” Sharon phoned our house the following evening. She asked for Maria, who was studying at the university library. She asked if she could come over anyway. She arrived shortly afterward, and asked if she could borrow a pair of Maria’s heels for a moment. I was puzzled, but went to our bedroom and brought a pair of 4-inch pumps with a relatively wide heel. They’re older shoes that Maria had stopped wearing. Sharon took off her shoes and squeezed into Maria’s heels, which seemed to be half a size too small for her. She wobbled in the heels and had to lean her right hand against the wall to steady herself. “Steve, I started my new job today at the hospital. During the day, I thought about yesterday’s conversation a lot, and now I know what I want to do. Listen, and tell me what you think.” Sharon looked straight at me while trying to balance in the heels. “As a nurse, I am devoting my life to treating the sick. Helping people regain their health is one of the most rewarding jobs a person can have. But the sad truth is that, most of the time, I am around sickness and even death. Many of my patients are elderly people who know that their youth and their good health are gone and will never return. Because I am around so much illness during my work day, I want to exude health and life when I am off work. Nothing expresses health and life for a woman like high heels. High heels enhance a woman’s femininity and sexuality. A woman in high heels can feel as if she will be healthy and beautiful forever, and she can make everyone around her feel healthy and alive as well. I want to nurture people when I am off work by expressing my health and femininity with high heels.” I broke into applause. “If that’s what you want to do, Sharon, you have my support. I’ll tell Maria the minute she gets home, and she’ll tell Ana. They’ll coach you every step of the way.” “I needed my own philosophy, Steve. Maria and Ana are from countries where masculinity and femininity are taken very seriously, and I could not adopt what they had said for myself. But I found a way to link high heels with things that I am passionate about.” Sharon shot me a flirty look that I had never seen, and she started to walk toward me. “Yes sir, Steve, I am going to become a sensuous, feminine, high quality-of-life woman. W-O-M-A….” She never finished her sentence because she lost her balance and fell flat on her face. Fortunately, the floor was carpeted. I rushed to her and helped her up. I was afraid she was hurt, but instead she was laughing hysterically. “I am such a klutz! Can you really see me strutting around in high heels like those two Latin goddesses? I’ll give it a try, but Maria and Ana sure have their work cut out for them. It should be one hell of a ride!” *** *** *** The doorbell rang on a Saturday morning in early June 1996. I opened the door, and Sharon was there in a tight, dark-blue mini-dress and a pair of 4-inch stiletto heels. “Hi, Steve,” she asked with a disarming innocence. “How do I look?” I had been following Sharon’s transformation with great interest during the previous months, but it was still hard for me to connect my newly reacquainted friend from high school with the woman who was standing before me. “You…you look terrific,” I said somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry I can’t be more articulate, Sharon. My mother never taught me what to say in situations like this.” Sharon had begun her transformation in February, the week after her initial shopping trip with Maria and Ana. They helped Sharon picked out a pair of wide 3-inch heels, which she wore around her apartment and then out in public. By mid-March, with her two friends’ help, Sharon bought a pair of 3-1/2 inch heels. On the first of May, Sharon bought a pair of 4-inch block heels, then bought her 4-inch stiletto heels a few weeks later. With each pair of shoes, she had gone from her first tentative steps to strutting around in confidence in a matter of days, or at most a few weeks. Some of the credit for Sharon’s progress certainly went to Maria and Ana, who were sharing their vast knowledge with Sharon on walking, balancing, selecting shoes for good fit, and the like. But it was really a tribute to Sharon herself. Far from being a klutz, Sharon was utilizing the ballet and gymnastics training she had received as a young girl, which had given her considerable flexibility and balance. She also viewed her quest to wear heels as an athletic and psychological challenge that required total dedication, which she was willing to give. As a nurse, she was limited to wearing flat shoes at work, but she wore heels at home and outside when she was off work. We were all excited to see her progress, and Maria and Ana took special pride in the success of their star pupil. Bob was introduced to Sharon early on, and also followed her progress with interest. Sharon’s transformation went far beyond shoes. She had her hair professionally styled, and signed up for professional consulting on cosmetics. Maria and Ana also exposed her to many different styles of clothing but, in typical Sharon fashion, she insisted on going her own way. Having no interest in competing with Ana by wearing pants or with Maria by wearing long, tight-fitting skirts, Sharon began buying short skirts and dresses at a furious pace. She was acquiring a complete wardrobe ranging from shockingly short mini-skirts and mini-dresses to longer skirts and dresses that could convey elegance and class when the occasion warranted. But, after about April or so, I rarely saw her wearing anything that covered her knees. I let Sharon in the house, where Maria and Ana were waiting for her. Ana and my wife were dressed pretty conservatively by their standards, wearing 4-inch heels and long, loose skirts. “Aw, shucks, senoras, you don’t have to dress down for me,” Sharon said when she saw them. “Nonsense,” Maria said. “You are the star today, Sharon, not us. Are we ready to go?” Maria then turned to me and asked, “Are you coming with us?” “I would not miss this for the world,” I said. The four of us got into our car, and I began driving. We were headed for the mall, where Maria and Ana would put Sharon through a training session in public. In the previous weeks, they had taught her the fundamentals about balancing and walking in heels, while Sharon independently developed the short skirt-oriented look that she wanted. Now the student was ready for the next step: feminine expression. Maria began her lecture while we were driving. “I go crazy when I hear American women say, ‘I can’t wait to get home and get out of these heels.’ You cannot have that kind of attitude if you are truly dedicated to feminine expression. You should want to live in heels. They should become part of your anatomy. You should get to the point where walking in heels is natural and walking in flats feels awkward and unnatural. That is your goal.” Ana added, “And if your heels are causing you pain, then think of it as a problem that needs to be addressed. Is there something wrong with the shoes? Are the heels too high for your level of skill and conditioning? The key is: Focus on the problem. Don’t feel that you have solved anything simply because you tossed off your heels.” “I can deal with that,” Sharon replied. “It is like any other kind of conditioning, like ballet, gymnastics or even tennis.” We arrived at the mall and walked inside. I hung back and observed the three women from about 30 feet behind, one of my favorite vantage points. It was quite instructive. Even though Sharon was wearing a much sexier dress than the other two, the eye tended to drift toward Maria and Ana, who were walking with their usual sensual, hypnotic rhythm. In comparison, Sharon’s walking motion was somewhat jerky and tentative. I noticed a number of men who looked initially at Sharon and then rested their eyes on Maria and Ana. Even though her progress to date had been unquestionably impressive, Sharon still had a ways to go. I caught up to the women in a corner of the mall where there were not a lot of people. This gave Maria and Ana the chance to provide further instruction to Sharon without being overheard. “What you want to do is generate an aura of femininity that surrounds you and takes in those who are close to you,” Maria said to Sharon. “The clothes you wear, the way you stand and move, the way you look at people, they all feed into the aura. It is not something you can produce in a week or two. It takes time. When you finally have the ability to generate it, however, the aura is a beautiful thing. It captures people. They cannot take their eyes off you, and they want to be close to you. The idea is not so much to attract men or make other women jealous, although there will be times when you want to do those things. The more fundamental goal is simply to create something beautiful, something that is deliciously, uniquely you, and which touches people on a very deep level. The same as an artist strives to achieve.” “Jeepers,” Sharon said. “That sounds like a pretty tall order.” “No, you just take it one step at a time, if you’ll pardon the expression,” Ana said. “For example, one thing that makes me crazy is when I see American women trying to walk the same in high heels as they do in flats. The reason a woman should wear heels is to walk entirely differently than you do in flats. Use the heels as tools to rock your body back and forth as you walk. Once you practice it enough, you will do it automatically. And then all kinds of things start to happen. People will notice you more, your self-confidence will grow, and you will make more eye contact with them and even begin to flirt with them. Without realizing it, your aura will be there.” We walked into one of the mall’s larger department stores. Sharon was trying hard to make her walk more deliberate and smooth, and she was doing better. Maria at one point even began whispering “one, two, one, two” to assist Sharon when no one besides the four of us was close enough to hear. We walked behind a rack of dresses where no one else could hear us. Maria said, “The ultimate accomplishment is to have a complete fusion of mind and body. This is so natural in Latin America that most women there do not even think about it, but women here have a hard time with the concept. It is really very simple: You talk to people simultaneously with words and with your body. You make no distinction between the intellectual and the physical. You can get into serious discussions with people while still enveloping them in your aura of sensuality.” “For example,” Ana said, “When I was an office manager in Costa Rica, I would often have to meet with customers or clients. I would talk about the business matter at hand, but I might stand like this.” She swiveled slightly to the side so that her shapely behind was at its most prominent. “And I would look deep into their eyes as we talked. And if I needed to walk across the room, I did so with a nice, sexy wiggle. And I would do all this while talking about accounts payable, interest rates, repayments, or whatever the issue was. We resolved our business matters, and we all had fun doing it. That is the way to go through life.” “You cannot really do that here,” Sharon said. “Most women would be fired for unprofessional behavior.” I interjected, “And I am becoming convinced that our society is all the poorer for that. But the point is you don’t need to do that during work. Just try to develop that on your own time.” “Like when you are shopping,” Ana said. “Follow me.” We walked up to an unattended counter. Ana said, “Steve, see if you can get anyone to help you here.” I walked up to the counter, put a look on my face as if I was a little lost, and waved around for help. Several clerks saw me from some distance away, but they did not do anything. “Perfect,” Ana said. “Now watch me.” She leaned against the counter with her back to the rest of us and bent over slightly. By doing so, her dress pulled up slightly, better exposing her calves and her high heels, and her behind was pleasingly prominent. She looked around as if she expected to find someone hiding behind the counter. “Hello,” she said in a loud voice. “Is anyone here?” One of the female clerks who had ignored me walked right up to Ana and said, “What can I do for you, madam?” Ana walked over with the clerk to one of the dress racks and began asking questions. Her body movements, the angle at which she turned her body when she addressed the clerk, and her eye contact with the clerk all had the desired effect. Within a couple of minutes, the clerk eliminated all pretenses of formality and was giggling and joking with Ana. I had the impression that Ana could have spent all day with the clerk if she had wanted. When she finished, Ana returned to us and said, “See? Women can be attracted to an aura of femininity as much as men.” We walked to the cosmetics section in a different part of the store. Maria swiveled up to the counter and occupied three female clerks for 15 minutes while asking questions about different kinds of makeup. Several customers, all women, gathered around as Maria tried on different cosmetics while talking to all of them about the merits of one product over another. The energy generated by the discussion was coming mainly from Maria, who asked the clerks and the customers for their opinions as she tried on different kinds of lipstick and rouges. She stood close to the women as she tried on the cosmetics, and touched several lightly on the shoulder when she asked them how she looked. “Just to prove that what Ana did was no fluke,” Maria said to us when she finished. “All modesty aside, Sharon, it takes many years to be able to project an aura like that. Keep your expectations reasonable for now.” “Maybe so,” Sharon said, “but there is no time like the present.” She walked across the aisle to the jewelry stands and began looking at watches. When she saw one she liked, she stood up very erect, turning her feet slightly outward and arching her back to increase the prominence of her breasts. It was like Sharon had flipped on a light switch. We could all feel the sensual energy emanating from her as she stood erect in her disarmingly sexy manner. Several people turned to look at her as they walked by. “Excuse me,” she said in a loud voice. “Is there anyone who can help me?” A female clerk hustled over and immediately started showing her different watches. Sharon relaxed from time to time but then stood fully erect again, and each time she did so it was as if a surge of electricity shot through the immediate area. A second clerk came to help her, and two customers, both women, stopped to offer their thoughts. “Where did she learn to stand like that?” Maria asked me. “I’m guessing she learned it from practicing yoga,” I responded. “Maybe Sharon has a thing or two to teach you.” When Sharon finished, we walked back to the car. Sharon confirmed that she had used her experience as a yoga instructor to develop her form of expression. “I don’t think I will ever be able to walk quite like either of you,” she said as we drove home. “But I’m pretty flexible, and I have been spending some time in front of the mirror lately trying different poses. I was going to show you the pose I used in the store at some point, but the opportunity presented itself today, and I went for it.” Ana gave Sharon a high-five and said, “Sharon, you are going to be one hell of a high-heel wearer.” We returned to our house and reflected on the outing while we enjoyed some coffee. Afterwards, I walked Sharon out to her car. Her heels clicked loudly on the sidewalk and her legs shimmered below her mini-dress. She was walking much better than she had a few hours before. “You are truly enjoying your transformation, aren’t you?” I asked her. “Absolutely,” she said. “I have a couple of geniuses for instructors, but I am still glad that I demonstrated today that we American girls aren’t complete ignoramuses when it comes to projecting our femininity.” She kissed me goodbye on the cheek and got into her car. “So what lesson comes next?” I asked. “I don’t know,” Sharon replied. “But stay tuned.” And she drove off. **** **** By the end of July, we all held our breath when Sharon walked very carefully and tentatively out of Maria’s and Ana’s favorite shoe store in 5-inch stiletto sandals. It was only a matter of a few more weeks until she was strutting with confidence. Sharon simply saw this as a new phase in her life. After her engagement ended in heartbreak the previous year, she had already wondered if a little glamour and pizzazz would lift her spirits, and meeting up with Maria and Ana convinced her that it was the right thing to do. She did not particularly think this phase would last forever, but she felt it was the right direction for her to go at the right time. And who were we to say she was wrong? On a Saturday in mid-September, Sharon, Ana and Maria spent much of the day shopping. They came back to my house in mid-afternoon and said a man at the mall had given them flyers concerning the opening of a new night club in our area that evening. I was OK with their suggestion that we all go, and agreed to meet at Bob and Ana’s house in the evening so we could drive to the new club together in their mini-van. The women dressed their best for the occasion: Ana in ultra-tight black spandex pants and 5-inch stiletto sandals, and Maria in a body-hugging, knee-length black leather skirt and 5-inch pumps. I still did a double-take when I saw Sharon, as she was in an especially short, tight blue miniskirt and an eye-popping pair of brand new, 5-1/2 inch stiletto sandals. Also new to us was Sharon’s date for the evening: Jack, a mild-mannered guy in his mid-50s, was a surgeon at the hospital where Sharon worked. As the six of us drove to the club in the minivan, Sharon explained that they had met a couple of weeks earlier at a reception for hospital employees. Sharon was off-duty at the time and had worn one of her now-characteristically short dresses and heels, so it came as no shock that Jack had shown an interest in her. On the way over, Maria asked Sharon whether she was ready to wear 5-1/2 stilettos out on the town, as the height was still new to her. Sharon replied that she wanted to try it, but she had brought an “old” pair of 5-inch heels as a backup in case the higher shoes proved to be too much. As if Sharon had been wearing 5-inch heels for years and years! We arrived at the club. The owners had obviously spent a lot of money to make it a nice, classy place, and so we did not mind paying a hefty cover charge. There was a good-sized dance floor, and a rock band was scheduled to play later in the evening. We ordered drinks and were sitting at a table talking when a representative of the night club approached us. He invited Maria, Ana and Sharon to join a fun competition organized to select the most attractive woman in attendance on the club’s opening night. The man promised the competition would be in good taste: the women would not be asked to dance or do anything sleazy or degrading, just simply walk out on the dance floor, acknowledge the audience and, in the case of the five finalists, answer some basic questions about themselves. Our three ladies did not hesitate in saying they would compete. Shortly afterward, a club employee made a public announcement about the competition and said all women could take part. We learned later that the club’s manager had identified the most attractive and best-dressed female patrons, including Maria, Ana and Sharon, and discreetly extended a personal invitation for them to participate. The competition began during the rock band’s first intermission. There were 17 women in total. As an announcer called their names, the women walked one-by-one out on the dance floor and waved at the audience and received varying levels of applause. It was pretty clear immediately that ten women (including Maria, Ana and Sharon) truly belonged in the competition, with the others entering in the spirit of fun. The rock band played its second set, and during the second intermission, the announcer read the names of the ten semi-finalists. As we expected, Maria, Ana and Sharon were among the ten, and they took turns walking out on the dance floor again to the applause of the audience. Our three ladies were among the five finalists announced during the rock band’s third intermission. The real competition began, and Ana was the first to be called. She walked onto the dance floor in her best Costa Rican style, wiggling her behind in a way that drew a loud applause. The announcer asked her some basic questions, such as her first name and what she did for a living. When she replied, “Bank teller,” several people in the audience wanted to know the name of the bank. The announcer asked Ana if she were married, and she said yes and pointed to Bob, which drew a mixture of cheers and good-hearted boos. For the last question, the announcer asked Ana where she was born, and her reply of Costa Rica also drew a loud applause. “And you thought people were going to Costa Rica to see the rain forests!” said the announcer, who received plenty of laughs from the line. The second contestant was an attractive brunette in a lacy top, pencil skirt and heels. She would have fit in well with our group. Maria was the third contestant. As I expected, Maria gave it everything she had, stepping out onto the floor with her flirty walk – one-two, one-two – which by itself drew an eruption of applause and some humorous leers from the announcer. In response to the announcer’s questions, Maria gave her name, said she was a business student at the university, and pointed me out as her husband. As with Bob, I got a mixture of applause and boos, and I thought I heard someone from the back of the club yell, “You lucky bastard.” When Maria responded to the last question by saying she was born in El Salvador, the announcer drew applause by saying, “I think we found our number one argument for having a liberal immigration policy, haven’t we?” The fourth contestant was a statuesque African-American woman in a stunning body-wrapping gold dress that drew ooh’s and aah’s from everyone in the building. Sharon was the last. Her previous two walks down the dance floor had been just fine in her 5-1/2 inch heels, but I still wondered if she was really ready to walk properly in such shoes in this kind of setting. She looked relaxed and confident as she strutted out on the dance floor, drawing just as much applause as the other four women. In her little question and answer session, she gave her first name, said she worked as a nurse, and drew especially loud applause when she said she was single. “You’re single and a nurse? I know a lot of guys who are going to make themselves very sick and get admitted to the hospital,” the announcer said to applause. Before leaving the dance floor, Sharon did her “stand at attention,” as we had decided to call it. She waved to the audience, but as she did so, she spread her feet slightly so that her toes were pointing outward instead of straight ahead. She stood up very erect and arched her back slightly, which also thrust her hips forward just a little bit. There was nothing obvious or slutty about it, but it was wonderfully sexy, and she drew the loudest applause of the night. I don’t even know how many people in the audience understood consciously what Sharon had done, but the impact of her sexy posture, whether conscious or subconscious, was substantial. Sexy posture. Every time she stood like that, the impact was stronger, and the degree to which she had perfected it was something to behold. She still had nowhere near the ability to swivel or wiggle like Maria or Ana. But she did not need to, as she had learned how to bathe the entire club in her own aura of femininity. Ana got fourth place, Maria got third, the African-American woman finished second, and Sharon won the competition. They called Sharon up for a final walk around the dance floor, and she positively beamed as she waved and blew kisses to the admiring crowd. The club’s photographer shot some pictures of Sharon, and when he finished, Sharon waved at the audience again. She stood up erect with her feet turned slightly out, and you could hear a slight but definite increase in the crowd’s applause level. I heard Maria turn to Ana and say, “One of these days, she is really going to need to teach us how she does that.” We spent the rest of the evening celebrating by dancing to rock ‘n roll. Things got a little crazy, as a couple of men approached Bob and I and asked for advice on how to meet Latin women. Sharon spent the rest of the evening close to Jack to demonstrate to would-be suitors that, while single, she did indeed have male accompaniment for the evening. She later said she regretted not pointing him out to the audience when she had a chance. When we left the club and got back to the minivan, Jack kissed Sharon and said, “You were magnificent.” While we had not had much of a chance yet to get to know him, Jack was clearly our kind of guy. A few tears welled up in Sharon’s eyes. “Sorry, I know this was just a silly little contest. But a few months ago, I was this rejected bride, trying to make a new life for herself. Steve knows that I was never the popular, glamorous type. Who would have thought anything like this could have happened to me? All of you, especially Maria and Ana, remade me into a different person and changed my life. Thank you, everyone. I hope I can do the same for you someday.” Maria, who was sitting in front of Sharon, turned back and said, “No, Sharon, you remade your own life. Ana and I gave you a little advice, perhaps, but you rose to the challenge you set for yourself to redefine who you are. I’m so proud of you.” She kissed Sharon on the cheek. Sharon and Jack spent the rest of the ride home kissing passionately like a couple of teenagers – not the kind of teenagers that Sharon and I were, but a couple of teenagers nevertheless. *** *** Sharon’s and Jack’s relationship progressed very quickly. It soon was obvious that it would only be a matter of time until Sharon left her apartment and moved in with Jack. We also learned that Jack was a bona fide high-heel lover. Since his divorce from his wife a number of years earlier, Jack had intended to only enter into a relationship with a committed heel-wearing woman who also met his high standards for intelligence and integrity. Sharon fit the bill perfectly. I thought it odd that a surgeon like Jack would be smitten with a taste for high heels, but Jack seemed very comfortable talking about it. He said he had been a physician for so long and had seen so many female bodies that, by itself, the feminine physique did little to interest him. He had been attracted to women in heels from his early teenage years. After his divorce a number of years earlier, he concluded that he could only be passionate about a woman who was committed to wearing heels. He talked about these intimate feelings of his with the detachment of a physician, and without embarrassment. He called us all “open-minded,” and said Sharon’s philosophy of wearing high heels as an expression of health was “brilliant.” Yes, Jack was our kind of guy. In October 1996, Jack and Sharon took a short trip to San Francisco. Sharon invited Bob, Ana, Maria and I to Jack’s house the following Saturday afternoon to socialize and to receive some gifts that Jack and she had bought for us on their trip. Not surprisingly, Jack’s house was in the most exclusive part of town. The 6,000 square-foot semi-mansion was impressive from the outside, and was even more impressive on the inside. Jack’s taste for fine art and furniture was evident in every room. In addition to being a surgeon and an admirer of art and architecture, Jack also prided himself on being an astute investor, and his investments clearly had done well. In other words, Jack was loaded. We were in the living room and chatting when Sharon brought in three gift-wrapped boxes. She gave one each to Maria and Ana, and kept the third for herself. “Jack knew about this store in San Francisco,” Sharon said. “We thought this was the least we could do to acknowledge what the four of you have done for me. Steve and Bob, these gifts are for you to enjoy, too.” The three women unwrapped the gifts. As I suspected, they were shoe boxes. Inside each box was a pair of black, 6-inch stiletto pumps. I think all our eyes opened wide as the women took the shoes out and began inspecting them. In the months since she had become friends with Maria and Ana, Sharon obviously had discovered what Bob and I had long noticed with our wives: Their taste in heels had a limit of 5-1/2 inches. Despite their devotion to being full-time heel wearers, neither Maria nor Ana owned or had ever worn any shoes higher than 5-1/2 inches. I had never given the matter much thought. After all, 5-1/2 inch heels are pretty darn high. And while I was aware that higher heels could be purchased in specialty stores, none of the four of us had ever seen a reason to patronize those kinds of businesses. Furthermore, the Internet was still new in 1996, and the thought of buying items like extreme heels on-line had never really occurred to us. Maria and Ana were silent as they held the heels in their hands. It was an awkward silence, and neither woman was trying on the shoes on, which was somewhat out of character for the two of them. “I know the two of you don’t have anything higher than 5-1/2 inches,” Sharon said to Maria and Ana. “I’m now at the point where I feel comfortable at 5-1/2 inches, and I think I’m ready for the next level. I thought it would be great if we could practice with 6-inch heels together. I know both of your shoe sizes, and Jack knew just the place that sells high-quality shoes of this type.” Maria and Ana looked at each other. It seemed to me that Ana was curious enough about the shoes to give them a try, but Ana by nature was far less assertive than Maria, and she looked to Maria to make the first move. I had seen the troubled look on Maria’s face many times, and I knew it meant trouble. “Look, Sharon,” Maria said awkwardly. “I know you did this with the best of intent, and I really appreciate the thought. Really, it was a wonderful gesture on your part. However, I don’t want to wear these shoes.” “Why not?” Sharon asked, more curious than hurt. “Perhaps you’ve misunderstood something about the way Ana and I express our femininity,” Maria said. Bad start, Maria. Do not patronize, just explain your concern. “Five-and-one-half inch heels may be too high for most women, but a skilled wearer can walk normally in them, and you do see them in general use. They are a legitimate expression of femininity,” she continued. “But 6-inch heels are something else. People do not wear them in public. Quite frankly, they are fetish shoes. They serve a different purpose entirely. I’m not into that.” Jack interjected, “I understand what you’re saying. You are right, you would not wear these shoes out for a night of dancing. But I do not agree that these are only fetish shoes. In large cities, women who are truly devoted to high heels will occasionally wear these shoes to restaurants and the like. Women who have developed the skills to wear truly high heels often like the challenge and the feeling of wearing heels like this. It can be an enjoyable, even intimate experience for the woman and her companion. It’s simply an extension of the kind of heel wearing that you are already doing. Sharon and I thought it would be something worth trying.” “I’m sorry, Jack. Maybe Ana is interested, but it is not something I feel comfortable doing,” Maria said. Sharon said, “We are not saying you need to wear these in public. Maybe we’ll just wear them in our homes. Come on, Maria, what can it hurt to give them a try right here? It’s just the six of us here.” “I’m very sorry, Sharon. I have to decline,” Maria said, with her head down. Ana nodded her head no in unison with Maria. “The last thing we want to do is push someone to do something that makes them uncomfortable,” Jack said, seeking to repair any damage that might have occurred. “Maria and Ana, we absolutely respect your feelings here. It’s no problem. We can return the shoes, and hey, that just gives Sharon and I an excuse to go back again to San Francisco.” We talked about other things for a while, but Maria said she had schoolwork to do, and we left much earlier than we had anticipated. Bob and Ana followed us out as well. Once Maria and I were in our car, Maria let out some frustration. “I can’t believe Sharon bought those shoes for us. I thought she knew us. I thought she understood us. The only people those shoes are good for are fetishists and hookers. Don’t you agree?” I was silent at first. I did not want to start a fight with Maria, but I had to speak my mind. “Maria, I don’t really care one way or the other whether you wear 6-inch heels. But I don’t think you handled things very well in there.” “Well, if you think I offended Sharon and Jack, I’d like to know how I could have handled it better. I will make it up to them somehow.” “That’s not the point, Maria. I don’t think you get it. You are the one who walks around in 5-inch heels everyday, and in effect you say to every woman you can find, ‘Look at me. I’m a real woman. I can wear heels much higher than you can.’ You enjoy challenging women’s image of their own femininity by asking them to accept yours. But now, for the first time since I have known you, somebody has actually challenged you, and you backed down. You not only backed down, but you justified backing down by saying the shoes are for fetishists and they are too extreme. Just the things that make you irate when other people, like your community college instructor, say those things about you.” “What are you trying to say?” “You relish challenging everyone else with your heels, but when Sharon challenged you with heels that she chose, you got offended and turned her down. That is hypocritical. Maria, whether you wear 6-inch heels is not important to me. What bothers me is that you were a total hypocrite today.” Maria stared straight ahead and thought for a minute. “Shit,” she finally said. “I hate it when you’re right.” “No, Maria, you simply hate it when you’re wrong.” “So you think I should try the heels?” “Accept Sharon’s gift. Accept her invitation to wear them around the house. If you don’t like them and never want to wear them again, then don’t. At least you accepted her suggestion to try them. Who knows? Maybe you’ll like them.” We got home. Maria went to the phone and called Ana, who had just gotten home herself. “Hello, Ana? You know, Steve and I were talking on the way home. Steve said a lot of things that made sense. I think I made a mistake….” After talking to Ana, Maria called Sharon and spent over an hour talking with her. They apparently patched things up quickly, as they gossiped and giggled like schoolgirls for most of their conversation. They agreed that the six of us would meet again at Jack’s house the following morning to resume where we had left off. When we arrived at Jack’s house on Sunday morning, we were greeted with champagne, a variety of cheeses and hor d’ouerves, and classical music. He went all out to create an atmosphere of class and sophistication to reassure everyone that there was nothing trashy or low-class about what we were doing. We all sat down at the table, and Sharon took her shoes out of the box first. “I am so sorry, I tried mine on yesterday after the four of you left,” Sharon said. “I would have waited if I had known you’d be back today.” “That is OK, Sharon. It was your idea, and you should be the first among us to go to six inches. Show us how it is done,” Maria said. Sharon put the shoes on the floor, stood up in her bare feet, slipped one foot into a shoe and then the other. She steadied herself again the table and then slowly took one step at a time around the room. “I am sure the two of you will get your bearings with your shoes long before I do,” Sharon said. “I wouldn’t bet a lot of money on that,” Ana said. “My turn.” She tentatively slid each of her feet into the shoes and stood there for a minute, getting the feel of them. “Oh, if mama could see me now,” she added. She, too, walked tentatively around the room, perhaps a little more fluidly than Sharon. All eyes turned to Maria. She got up and put one foot at a time into her shoes, and stood in place for a minute. “Wow, who would have thought a little half-inch could make such a big difference?” Then Maria walked around the room, slowly and cautiously. Sharon walked up to her and said, “Welcome to the world of decadence. Isn’t it fun to be just a little bit evil?” The ladies sat back down to rest, and Jack delivered an impromptu medical lecture. The difference between 5-1/2 and 6 inches was enough, he said, so that their balance and weight distribution would be different. Stresses on their feet, knees, and various tendons and muscles would be different, but he assured them that in short time they would be able to make the adjustment and walk elegantly, without the need to bend their knees excessively. After a short rest, the ladies walked around the room some more. We continued this way for several hours, socializing and munching while the women alternated between walking around the room and sitting with us. At one point, Maria stopped in front of a full-length mirror and began examining herself. Maria knew every angle, every curve, the precise projection of each part of her body at various heel heights, and so it was natural that she would want to study the precise effect that wearing 6-inch heels had on her figure. Sharon saw this and walked up next to Maria in front of the mirror. “That’s what I love…pure narcissism,” Sharon said. “You still need to teach me how to be like that.” “It is only part narcissism. The other part is being a technician, and knowing exactly how you look in different kinds of clothing and shoes so you can select the right combination for the right occasion. You should be in total control of your feminine expression,” Maria said. Ana joined them, and the three stood in front of the mirror in various poses, commenting on each other’s figures and the kinds of outfits that would go well with their new shoes. When we left to go home in the afternoon, each woman promised to continue to practice walking in their new heels at home. Each day that week, Maria put on the new shoes when she got home from the university, and she put them on a second time in the evening. She spent so much time on the phone with Ana and Sharon that I was afraid she would fall behind in her college studies. Her attitude about the extreme heels had clearly changed, but even I was surprised when, after talking to Sharon on Thursday evening, she said they were going to wear the heels to a Sunday brunch at a restaurant that Jack had selected. **** **** **** The restaurant that Jack had selected for our Sunday brunch was about a 90-minute drive away from our city, and the six of us decided to ride over in Bob’s and Ana’s minivan. Our three ladies all wore lower heels for the ride with the intent of putting on their 6-inch heels when we arrived at the restaurant. Maria and Ana dressed relatively conservatively for the occasion. Both wore long black dresses that, by their standards, were somewhat loose fitting. Sharon was a little more daring but still remained tasteful in a long-sleeve blue top and black miniskirt. On the ride over, Jack explained that we were going to an elegant restaurant at a private country club. “I am not a member of the club myself, but I am good friends with the owner of this restaurant. I removed his gall bladder a number of years ago, actually. This is a classy place and, since it is a private restaurant, you can dine in comfort knowing there won’t be any riff-raff to bother you. I do know that there are some women at this country club who are into extreme heels and ultra-fashionable clothing, so this will not be the first time they have seen 6-inch heels there. The owner knows we are coming. So we can all just relax and enjoy ourselves.” We arrived at the restaurant, which looked like a large estate house surrounded by a golf course. The ladies put their shoes down on the parking lot pavement and eased themselves into them. Maria put her arm around mine, the other ladies did likewise with their mates, and we walked slowly and deliberately towards the restaurant. Maria’s walking rhythm was definitely slower than normal but she had managed to become impressively smooth during her week of practice. It was nowhere near as sensuous as her more practiced walks with 5- and 5-1/2 inch heels, but in one way it was much more of a turn-on. Maria had been an expert heel wearer for years before we met, and for the first time over the past week, I had been seeing her struggle to learn to walk in a new kind of shoe. It was surprisingly enjoyable to see Maria do anything in heels that rated less than a perfect 10. I also glanced over to Sharon, who was next to me and maybe a foot in front of us, walking arm-in-arm with Jack. Her little miniskirt was bobbing up and down in a very sensual way as she walked, and my eye lingered on her for a little too long. I caught myself and looked at Maria, who had been observing exactly what I was doing. “It’s OK, you’re allowed,” she said, kissing me on the cheek. We arrived inside. The restaurant host complimented all of us on our attire and led us to our table. The restaurant was about two-thirds full, and it seemed like all eyes turned to our ladies as they walked through the restaurant as gracefully as they could. We took our seats, and then it hit me that this was a buffet brunch, in which we would all have to get up, walk to the buffet and serve our own food. An absolutely brilliant and masterful stroke on Jack’s part! I looked at the buffet stand on the other side of the room and turned to Bob, who turned to me and said quietly, “That Jack. He is our kind of guy.” We walked over to the buffet stand, which contained all kinds of wonderful food – eggs, salmon, pancakes, waffles, bacon and sausage and the like. A chef also was making omelets to order. Four of us filled our plates and walked back to the table while Maria and Sharon waited for the chef to make their omelets. Maria told me later that Sharon whispered to her while they were waiting, “Everyone in the restaurant is looking at us while we stand here. When we walk back to our table, let’s really give them an elegant show.” They walked back together, each one holding a plateful of hot food. Maria swayed gracefully from side to side as she walked; Sharon was a little more tentative, but she beamed with a cover-girl smile that more than made up for any technical imperfections with her walk. My only regret is that I had not brought a video camera to film it all. At the end of our meal, Jack and Sharon announced that Sharon had already given notice on her apartment and would be moving in with Jack at the end of the month. Furthermore, they said, they planned to formally announce their engagement at some point in the future, but they wanted the four of us to know first. Bob made a toast to Sharon and Jack. And then Jack insisted on making a toast, in which he said, “We’re six healthy, intelligent people who all share a special interest. We respect each other, and we respect the sanctity of our two marriages and a third soon-to-be marriage. While I am the newest member of this group, I think we have a special friendship, and we should not be afraid to explore new things that bring pleasure and satisfaction to us. I hope today sets the standard for what we can experience, as long as we are open with each other and support each other.” Here, here! Sharon then stood up. “Maria, Ana, I don’t want to repeat what I have said before. The two of you have done so much for me. I feel so close to the two of you, I want to think of us as ‘Las Tres Hermanas,’ which is Spanish for ‘The Three Sisters.’ Because that is how close I feel to you.” Sharon had a little tear in her eye, and we all applauded. Sharon continued, “Bob, you are a dear friend, and I would feel completely comfortable if I were alone with you in my 6-inch heels. Jack, you are going to be my life partner, and you know what that means to us. And Steve, I wanted to let you know that you are the reason I am now the person that I am. Maria and Ana were my role models, but Steve, I made the decision to change my lifestyle because of you. You and I were both shy, introverted teens who were not yet capable of grasping what life offered us. When I moved here at the beginning of the year, I saw how you had changed, with your gorgeous wife and two equally gorgeous friends. I saw how happy you were and I thought, if you made that change, I can make it, too.” The others all applauded. “Lastly, Steve, I want to give you something I should have given you when we were back in high school. I made a mistake at that time, and I want to make it right.” Maria stood up and let Sharon sit next to me. Sharon said, “Now don’t freak out, Steve. I got Maria’s approval to do this, and Jack’s as well.” She leaned over, put her lips on mine, and gave me a long kiss. It seemed like it went on for a minute, but Maria told me later it was exactly 10 seconds long, the length of time she had authorized. And the others applauded again. Before we left, several other patrons stopped at our table to compliment the ladies on their shoes and their ability to walk in them. Jack’s assurances about the open-mindedness of the patrons were indeed correct. Before leaving, we took out our digital cameras and took still photos of ourselves in the country club lobby. An employee graciously volunteered to take photos of all six of us. All in all, it was a perfect day. When we got home, Maria and I went right to bed and made love that was more passionate than we had experienced in some time. Afterwards, she lay in bed next to me, her six-inch heels still on her feet. Except for when she removed her stockings when we got home, she had not removed them since we arrived at the restaurant. “I feel liberated. It’s almost euphoric,” she said. “All these years, I defined my femininity by what my grandmother and mother had told me when I was a girl. Five-and-one-half inch heels are for elegant women, six inch heels are for prostitutes. I was living comfortably inside my box. A very big box, of course, but still a box. And Sharon came along and changed everything.” “You spent so many years challenging American women to accept your brand of femininity, and Sharon took you up on it,” I said. “Not only took me up on it, but she surpassed me and forced me to see my own limitations. That woman taught me a lot. Today was the first time that I have ever expressed myself in a way outside of what I learned in El Salvador. The very first time! I hope my grandmother forgives me, wherever she is.” “I’m sure she is very proud of you.” Maria snuggled up next to me. “I now see it is not really important if I challenge other women with my femininity. It is more important that I challenge myself, to see how far I can go in expressing myself. That is what I learned from Sharon. I don’t really know where we go from here. But you and I can figure it out, or the six of us can figure it out together.” “I am looking forward to it, Maria.” Maria got up and walked over to the closet, where she picked up a shopping bag and went into the bathroom. She stepped out a minute later wearing an extremely provocative dark-blue minidress and, still, her six-inch heels. “Sharon had the afternoon off earlier in the week, so we went shopping and she convinced me to buy this. I thought I might return it, but now I intend to wear it,” she said. “Women in El Salvador do not wear minidresses. But I am not bound by that any more, am I? I think that is my next step: Very short skirts and dresses.” She walked seductively towards me and got back into bed. “You get no argument from me,” I said. “Most women wear lingerie to bed. My wife wears minidresses and 6-inch heels.” “Just this once,” Maria said playfully. “I’ll wear this dress in public. But this seems like the right occasion to break it in. In honor of Sharon. What do you think? We should both dedicate our next orgasms to Sharon.” “You said that, not me, but it is a fine idea,” I said, rolling over on top of Maria and sliding my hand under her new dress. “Here’s looking at you, Sharon.” *** ***

[Stu]

Interview: Sharon and Jack

Driving up to the house where Sharon and Jack live is like stepping into one of those magazines that feature perfect homes that are too good for mere mortals. Their home looks like a country estate, with manicured lawns, immaculately maintained gardens and the like. You step into the house, and the surreal experience continues: you are greeted in each room with paintings, sculptures, and much better furniture than you will ever see in your home. You do not think anything can top it until Sharon enters the room to greet you. She is just a tad over 40, but with the figure of a physically fit woman half her age. She is donning a dark-blue sweater, tastefully short black skirt, and blue 5-inch stiletto pumps. Sharon is a good match for Jack, whose ruggedly good looks easily make you forget that he is 20 years Sharon’s senior. They are the perfect dream couple for the perfect dream home.

Given the timeless quality of the home and its inhabitants, it is important to remember that this interview took place in early autumn 2004, just about eight years after Sharon and Jack met at a reception for employees at the hospital where they worked at the time. As we sit down to begin the interview, Sharon offers me a choice of several different kinds of tea or coffee, and Jack asks whether I would like to listen to Chopin or Bach as background music. They make it seem so easy that you wonder why you aren’t living in a house like this, and enjoying a marriage like theirs.

Steve: I come into this house, and all I see is: good taste, good taste, good taste. How do you do it?

Jack: Beauty is something that is worth pursuing in life. We are fortunate to have the means to engage in the activity of cultivating beauty and art. If you have the desire, and the means, you can accomplish a lot in that area.

Steve: My story did not get into the details of how the two of you met. Can you talk a little about that?

Sharon: I had been working at the hospital for about six months when they had their annual reception for hospital employees, which covered everyone from the doctors to clerks and the janitorial staff. I was in the middle of my so-called transformation at that point, and I believe I had gotten up to 4-inch heels. So I wore 4-inch heels and a miniskirt to the reception. I was expecting a negative reaction, because as a nurse I wore a standard nursing uniform and flats, and nobody there had ever seen me in heels and a miniskirt. I thought I would get lectures about how I was destroying my feet. I had known who Jack was, because he was one of the more prominent surgeons associated with the hospital, but I had never met him. He saw me, introduced himself, and we began talking. The rest took care of itself.

Jack: I had been divorced for seven or eight years by that time, and was in a prolonged mid-life crisis. I was looking for something beyond what I had. Before I met Sharon, I used to go out on dates with women who would talk, talk, talk, talk. God, I was so sick of talking! I wanted a woman who could express herself physically. I had been fascinated by heel-wearing women since my teens, and I think I made a mistake earlier in my life by not indulging my passion in that area. So I was on the lookout for someone like Sharon when I went to the reception. When I saw her, I knew she was the one. I struck gold that night.

Steve: Why were you so certain? It must have been more than just the heels.

Jack: To pick up on your phrase, Sharon had good taste. She was feminine and sexy, but tasteful. I honestly believe that women, and men to a lesser degree, provide a window to their inner selves by the way they dress. I say men to a lesser degree because society basically relegates us to shirts and ties. Women have far more options.

Steve: Sharon, what really prompted you to begin wearing heels?

Sharon: When I moved here, I was still in a state of depression because my previous engagement had failed. I wanted to get away to a new city and make a start on my own, but at the same time I felt badly that I did not know anyone here. Hello, can we have some consistency in one’s thinking, please? Depression does that to you. I called you, Steve, because I knew no one else and I wanted to talk to somebody. I then met Maria and I thought, oh Steve, you married some red-hot bimbo as a way of shoring up your insecurity about your masculinity. And it was all my fault because I didn’t kiss you back in high school. Guilt, guilt!

But as I got to know both Maria and Ana, I realized they were intelligent, sensitive women. And they were quite conservative, really. They convinced me it is possible to be drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent and be a good loving person, all at the same time. I didn’t feel so sorry for Steve after all! I am always looking for challenges, for ways to improve myself, and I thought if I could focus on being glamorous like those two women, I could lift myself out of my rut, and maybe attract a good man at the same time.

Steve: Did you honestly think you would still be a daily heel wearer after all this time?

Sharon: Honestly, no. When I started, I thought it would be a passing phase, a reaction to being rejected the previous year. But there was no reason why it should have been temporary. A devotion to heels and feminine appearance is not much different than a devotion to yoga, or even to competitive sports. They are all physical activities in which you aim to do your best and improve yourself through skill, devotion and discipline. You take pride and feel good when you achieve your goals.

Steve: You obviously do not feel it is superficial to concentrate so heavily on your appearance.

Sharon: Heck no. Now there are superficial women who concentrate on their appearance because they have nothing inside to offer, but it is pretty easy to spot those types. Unfortunately, I think they make a bad name for the rest of us. I have very much embraced Maria’s and Ana’s philosophy of expressing myself through my dress and shoes. If people like it, that’s fine, and if they don’t, that’s fine, too. But the way I dress is still me, and I am not leaving any time soon.

Steve: And you obviously don’t mind standing out in the crowd.

Sharon: That is one of the challenges I faced during my transformation period. I was brought up like a lot of middle-class American women to be modest in my appearance. Heels, for example, were for the bimbos and the fast crowd. Drawing too much attention to yourself diminishes, rather than enhances, your stature as a woman. I had to get that out of my mind during my transition to heels, and I leaned heavily on Maria and Ana for that. It helped for me to associate so closely with two women from another culture who had grown up with different attitudes. I was amazed at how those two could walk so calmly as people gawked at them, and to them it was totally natural. I had to learn how to do that. Maria once said to me that artists can’t control how others interpret their work and that, similarly, she couldn’t fret about what people thought of her.

Steve: You said earlier that Maria and Ana are basically conservative. What do you mean by that?

Sharon: To this day, Maria and Ana love the image of being these red hot, uninhibited Latinas, but they are really conservative, small-town Central American girls. They wear the sexy heels and tight clothes because that’s what they were taught in their native cultures. But they never ventured beyond what they were taught. In my case, I not only broke away from my past by learning to wear high heels, but I ended up pushing Maria and Ana to go beyond the norms of their native cultures by experimenting with 6-inch heels and the like. Your story covers that in some detail. Just as they taught me a lot, I am proud I taught them not to be prisoners of their own culture and their own upbringing. I’m certainly glad I could teach them something!

Steve: Do you still believe that you wear heels as an expression of health? Or was that just a rationalization you developed when you started wearing heels?

Sharon: I firmly believe it. I often get compliments from women who ask me how I manage to dress the way I do. I usually reply by saying, “I am healthy, I feel feminine and this is how I express myself.” Healthiness is a positive state of mind as well as physical well-being. We would be better off as a society if we celebrated healthiness by extolling good appearance. I think we ought to market high heels to teenage girls instead of fast food.

Steve: Nice thought, even though it will never happen.

Sharon: You may think it’s utopian, but think about it: Maria and Ana grew up in societies that taught women to value high heels more than junk food. Societies like that really do exist!

Steve: How do you respond to the argument that high heels cannot be an expression of health because they are bad for your feet?

Jack: I do not believe that is true. Given my own interest in heels, I have studied up on podiatry and the effects of high heels on women’s feet. Obviously, it is not ‘natural’ for a woman to walk in heels, and some women should not wear heels on an ongoing basis because they do not have the needed flexibility in their arches and other areas of the foot. But many women can wear heels safely if they do it properly. Regular exercise of the foot muscles and tendons, along with careful attention to high-quality shoes with a proper fit, will allow many women to wear heels regularly for years without problems. In my humble medical opinion.

Steve: What do the two of you do in your current jobs?

Sharon: I left the hospital several years ago, and I am now the wellness coordinator for a senior citizens’ community center in our city. I am responsible for a number of programs that cater to seniors, including a lunch program, exercise classes, educational classes, and various recreational activities. My nursing background was an excellent preparation for this job.

Steve: And do you wear heels to work?

Sharon: Absolutely! More often than not, I wear 5-inch heels, and short skirts and dresses. And, yes, my attire is very well received by the vast majority of the seniors. People get into this mindset where they wear dowdy, frumpy clothes around seniors, and what are they really saying when they do that? That seniors are dowdy, frumpy people? Plenty of seniors are healthy, energetic and full of life and, yes, they still like sex, too! My heels and manner of dress are my way of telling them that they are healthy, sexy people, and you would be surprised at how they respond. A lot of the women wear heels to the center, and you would be amazed at how a roomful of dressy, two- and three-inch heels can change the atmosphere there. Some women have carried in a pair of beautiful, 5-inch heels that they wore in the 1950s, because they wanted to show them to me. And you better believe the senior men notice that sort of thing. One of the best things I can do for my seniors is to make them feel healthy and sexy, and I try my best to create an atmosphere where that can happen. I have to admit that it is the perfect job for me.

Jack: My life is not as interesting as Sharon’s. I continue to work as a surgeon. I don’t feel I am ready to retire yet, although I suppose that day is coming. When it arrives, I will probably become a full-time investor.

Steve: I think some readers may find it intriguing that two health professionals have such a strong interest in heels, and may arguably even be called fetishists. Any thoughts?

Jack: People have too many hang-ups. I think my medical training has helped me to look at this whole question dispassionately. Human beings have evolved to like adorning themselves. It is natural for us to adorn our bodies in certain ways for our own enjoyment and to enhance our sexual attractiveness. It may be lipstick or eye shadow, it may be high heels, or it may be corsets or whatever else. So what? We should enjoy exploring these aspects of human nature, rather than feeling ashamed of them. We experience such little true, bona fide pleasure in our lives that we should be encouraging people to get in touch with these kinds of desires, as long as they do no harm to themselves or others. Instead, we sit by while people harm themselves with tobacco, alcohol and drugs. Now that is sick!

Sharon: I agree with Jack. People still think of doctors and nurses as god-like figures who don’t share the quirks and passions of the rest of humanity. What trash! Who would want a doctor or nurse like that anyway? When I was still a nurse, I had this fantasy of going to work in 5-inch heels and a ridiculously short nursing uniform, like you often see in porno flicks. In the fantasy, my female patients see me and say, “I want to be able to look and dress like you,” and I say, “You can. Just take care of yourself and nurture yourself back to health.” And I see them a few months later enjoying themselves in 5-inch heels and miniskirts. Yes, it is a silly fantasy, but I think it would make for a much better reality than what you see in hospitals today, with all the people in there for drug abuse and gunshot wounds. And just think of all the patients we’re going to get in the future because of our current obesity epidemic. It all reflects the fact that people see no reason to take care of themselves. It is very, very sad.

Think of it this way. A person becomes a legal adult at 18 and, with a healthy lifestyle and a little luck, can expect to have a body that functions at a very high level of performance for about 40 years, give or take a few years. That is not a long time, so use your body wisely and use it well. And get as much enjoyment out of it as you can.