Visiting this board, reading so many cool posts and submitting mine, this all brings back a flood of memories from an old geezer who’s had a 60-year shoe fetish and has had no one with whom to share stories. Like finally being able to come out of the closet so to speak. Since I’m a veteran of the Golden Age of Women’s Shoes; i.e., the Fifties and early Sixties (with a reprise in the early to mid Eighties) I feel blessed, and from time to time like to share true stories. Some of these are quite current because I’m just as active a shoeplay fan now as in earlier days.

In 1961 my wife, who was raised in a conservative family, had realized that since her hair and feet were her two best attributes it was good to draw attention to both. We met in college, although by then she’d gotten a good start on low cut shoes, I still helped her along by purchasing the lowest cut shoes I could find, similar to today’s ClassicPumps.com, to add to her collection. As it worked out she liked them. Once I bought her a drop-dead pair of d’Orsay patent leather 4”pumps with max space between toebox and (tiny) heelcup. These shoes were hard to keep on her feet even when brand new. They had pointed toes, with a little metal tap at their very end and hard leather stiletto heel tips – for sound I guess when walking. These were the highest heel she’d ever worn, but she wore them whenever I asked her to. I have to admit when she was out, and I was home at the time, I’d put them on (my foot only 1 size larger than hers) just to stretch them a bit and thus make them more comfortable, and conducive to heel popping and some dipping – she’s not a dangler).

One hot summer evening, in NJ, we had a couple over to play bridge. This was before miniskirts, pantyhose – when women wore garter belts, nylon stockings, slips and….Ugh! girdles. Barb (my conservative and still lovely wife) came down the stairs, just before our guests arrived, in “the little black dress” (a rather form-fitting sheath), no stockings, no slip (I later found out), no girdle, and was wearing those sexy d’Orsay’s. She also had on a matching patent leather belt which drew her skirt inward and shortened it by a couple of inches. On the way down the stairs those little toe taps combined with the heel “clock” helped me to get me "going" as soon as I saw her. Remember, it was hot outside and we didn’t have air conditioning. Bridge as you know is mentally challenging. Since I obviously couldn’t concentrate, I wound up as the dummy on many hands. I used this opportunity to refresh drinks, dips, peanuts, etc……just so I could LOOK at my wife’s shoes under the table. What turned me on, she was drooping one shoe off one foot while wrapping it around the other one. I played the worst cards in my entire life.

After our guests left we had to clean up. Barb had removed her shoes - she had actually painted her toenails - didn’t do this too often, a subtle color ! She knew I was hot, because while I was drying dishes she went upstairs and come back down with nothing on under her sheath dress….and her shoes still on. When we made out on the couch afterwards I made it a point to slide her shoe on and off an on and off, then took deep sniffs from the shoe , stroked her toes, whatever, just to get my message across that I LOVE sexy women’s shoes. She and I produced 3 great children in the years after that and along the way have many shoe memories. More later, unless you’re bored. .