stilleto heel

My very first post … a snapshot of my high heels closet. 3m long shot even if it doesn’t seem that long on the picture.
New pairs have been added since then to reach a total of 30 pairs of high heels pumps and more or less 20-25 knee-high and thigh high boots.
Hard to wear them all and I even sometimes forget about some or just don’t wear them anymore. One of my 2017 resolution is to clean my closet and potentially sell a few before buying new ones 😂. I guess high heels fashion is my addiction 😍👠



Phan fic: Phil’s clubbing experiences

Warnings: um… Club sex? Oh, riding, pole dancing, Dan being a slut, dirty talk, praise, Daddy kink, a lil bit of rimming, rough sex, etc. (Oh my God I am going to hell.)

Phil’s P.O.V.

Cautiosly, I stepped under the overhanging roof of the club, taking a moment to adjust to the already apparent scent of alcohol, sweat and sex.

Damn you, Chris.

I looked beside me, seeing my best friend giddy with anticipation. ‘Aren’t you even the least bit excited?’ Chris said, his grin widening as I groaned.

'No! You know I hate this sort of thing!’

A chuckle sounded behind us, and I whipped around to see a tall, slim figure stood behind us. He flicked his brown fringe, looking me in the eye before slipping past, nodding to the bouncer who smirked and opened the doors for him. Chris and I fumbled for our IDs, and when we finally got them out, it took him only a couple of seconds to compare our faces before he let us in.

We shuffled awkwardly to the back, taking in our surroundings: in the centre of the large, dark room was a raised stage, with a single metal pole stretching up to the low ceiling. There was a walkway, like a catwalk or a runway, leading up to this, with small, circular lights lining the edges. There were already a few men stood with their elbows resting on the platform, waiting for the show to start, and many more milling around with drinks in their hands. We slid over to the bar, and Chris ordered us some drinks, before he looked up at me, willing me to give in and just let it happen. I sighed, but obliged, following him to the stage. We sat down in some of the seats around it, and sipped, or in Chris’s case, gulped down, our drinks, and Chris very quickly went to get us another round.

Le time skip to after Phil is tipsy and Chris is wasted

Chris and I were sat, giggling at nothing, when the clack of heels could be heard over the loud music. At almost the same second, the song switched to something I didn’t recognise, something pretty strip-club-esc, and the crowd of men swelled, growing in size and definitely in volume. I looked up to see a tall, slim man in stilleto heels, thigh highs and a black suspender skirt walking down the runway, earning cheers and wolf whistles from the crowd. He smirked cheekily and wiggled his hips as he walked.

I stood up, almost completely forgetting Chris existed. I put my cup down in one of the small tables and walked down right by the stage.

A moment later, he’d reached the pole. He took one leg and hooked it up, around the metal, holding on with one hand. He let himself hang there for a second, before he swung himself around, flaunting his body as he pulled himself gracefully up the pole. As he got higher and higher, he leant backwards, and I was completely entranced. All my past experiences with anyone pole dancing, it has been a horrible, cringe-worthy five minutes of pain, but this… This was something new to me.

When the chorus of the song started, I immediately recognised it as Partition, and as it sang 'Oh Daddy, Da-Daddy’ he thrust his ass out and back in again, sliding his crotch against the pole. He bit his lip, and as a particularly bright light flashed into him, I remembered him as the guy who had been behind us in the queue outside. His brown hair flicked effortlessly as he swayed, and within five seconds, the song ended, and he dropped into a squat, caramel eyes locked with mine. I felt my face heat up as he smirked, turning back and walking back down the runway, swaying his hips.

'Not… So bad here a-hic-after all then?’ Chris giggled, patting my shoulder. Going against all I thought possible, my cheeks became even more red, and I hid my face in my elbow, deciding to just sit back down.

Another time skip, only about ten minutes later

'Hey Phil,’ Chris spluttered, 'I have literally no idea how, but you’ve got interest, two o'clock.’

'Chris just tell me where in a way I’ll understand.’

'God, you’re no fun. By the door over there,’ he slurred.

I span around, instantly catching those same brown eyes. There he was, stood in a doorway below a sign that read 'toilets and private rooms,’ making that come here gesture with his finger. My heart did a little flip, and I turned to Chris, saying, 'gotta run,’ before jumping up and walking over, trying not to seem too eager.

'I’ll get myself home!’ Chris yelled over the music.

I reached the doorway, and he smirked. 'Hey, I’m Dan.’

'H-hi, I’m Ph-Phil,’ I mumbled, too taken aback by his stunning apperance. He was still in the outfit he was in on the stage, but when he was up there I hadn’t noticed the makeup he was wearing: eyeliner and marcara that complemented his eyes and baby-pink lip gloss. He stepped closer.

'So, I see you enjoyed my show,’ he said, walking his fingers up my chest.

My breath hitched, but I nodded. 'Y-yeah, it… It was hot,’ I said slowly as he changed to tracing patterns on my shirt.

'I saw you in the crowd, looking so cute,’ he pouted, looking down at my lips, 'I just couldn’t resist you.’

I bit my lip. Damn, he was hot.

'Then don’t.’

He looked up at me, almost questioningly, before realising I meant don’t resist me. Without a second thought, he crashed his lips against mine, pulling me backwards into one of the 'private rooms’.

Once the door was shut, and the slide lock was closed, I pushed him up against the wall. He ran his hands down my torso, before tugging my shirt upwards. I broke off the kiss for a second to pull it off, before reattaching our lips. He groaned as I rubbed my hard on against his crotch, letting the tiny skirt ride up. He reached down, unbuttoning my jeans, pulling them down. I kicked them off, grinding my boxer-clad dick against his black lace panties, panting heavily.

'Daddy,’ he moaned out, and more blood ran south. I sighed out, long and blissful, grinding onto him.

'Mm, my good little slut,’ I whispered into his ear between kisses on his neck, 'what do you want?’

'Ah- I want Daddy to make me f-feel good,’ he moaned.

'How do you want Daddy to do that?’ I growled, beginning to push his panties aside.

'Oh- ah- please Daddy, touch me.’ Unable to keep up the teasing any further, I began to palm him gently. He whined, and I sped up. I then pushed the panties aside fully, his dick hard and pink at the tip. I began to stroke him, but a moment later he dropped to his knees. Swiftly pulling down my boxers, he wasted no time in taking me into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks and hummed, sending vibrations up my cock, and I began to feel heat pooling in my stomach already.

'Mm, Baby boy, stop, Daddy doesn’t wanna come yet.’

He pulled off me with a pop, and once he’d stood up, I guided him to the bed.

'On your hands and knees, baby,’ I purred.

He rushed to obey, burying his face in his arms and sticking his ass in the air.

I get on the bed behind him, running my hands over his delicate skin.

Gently, I leant forwards and layed my tongue flat against his entrance. He whined, grinding back onto my mouth.

I licked around his rim, and he let out a strangled moan, panting. I swirled my tongue in circles before slipping it inside. He moaned loudly as I moved my tongue around in his hole, touching his hot walls.

'Ugh, pl-please, Daddy, fuck me Daddy, please!’

I groaned, his words swirling down to join the buzz of arousal in my stomach.

'Do you need stretching?’ I asked, and he shook his head, 'So you’re all ready for Daddy? Mm, what a good little slut, all ready to be filled up with Daddy’s cock.’

Whimpering, he fumbled on the table next to the bed, opening the draw and pulling out a bottle of lube.

I smirked and popped the cap open, pouring some out. I warmed it up in my hands, then stroked it onto my dick, groaning at the friction.

I put my tip at his hole, and slowly pushed in, but, to my surprise, he whined, 'Daddy, faster, please, ah- I can t-take more.’

In response, I thrust in all the way, and he moaned loudly. 'Yeah, being so good for me, so good for daddy, taking Daddy’s cock so well, I’m so proud of you,’ I cooed, and began thrusting in and out of him quickly, relishing in the feeling of his tight heat surrounding me.

Then, suddenly, he screamed out in pleasure, and I assumed I’d hit his prostate. I kept thrusting into him at that angle, hard and fast, until he moaned out, 'Daddy, I-I’m gonna c-come, daddy, mm.’

'Come for me, baby,’ I whispered, wrapping a hand around his dick. A second later, he was coming, white streaks spurting out of his tip.

But still, I kept up my relentless rhythm, trying to contain my climax. I also kept stroking him, and he was becoming hard again. He whined from the overstimulation, and I chuckled, low and gruff.

'Daddy, ah- w-wanna ride your big cock, Daddy, please!’

I pulled out, and layed down on the bed, beckoning for him to sit on my lap. He hurried to straddle me, and almost immediately pushed himself down on me.

We both moaned, and he started up a rhythm, even faster than how I’d been fucking him. He bounced up and down on my cock, and I felt myself climbing towards my climax.

'Ugh, Daddy, I-I’m gonna come aga- ah- again!’

I reached forward and started pumping his dick, and he came for the second time. His look of extacy, pure pleasure, with his eyes scrunched up and mouth hanging open, was what tipped me over the edge. I came inside him, filling him up.

He hummed appreciatively, slowly sliding off and standing up.

'W-we should do that again soon,’ he mumbled, picking up my jeans and sliding my phone out of my pocket. 'I never given anyone my number before, but oh my God, that was good,’ he said, passing my phone to me to unlock.

He took it back after I’d done so, and made a new contact for himself.

'I’ve gotta go now, Phil, but please, please call me.’