A Regular Bud
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by Ryan Field
Category: Erotica/Fetish Erotica
Description: Though handsome, athletic Noah thinks he's home alone and free to enjoy his private fetish for wearing high heels, his straight roommate's dominant younger brother walks in unexpectedly and catches him in the act. Noah is a young corporate professional who shares his large, old home with his straight best friend from college, Preston. And though Noah is openly gay, no one knows that Noah has a kinky little gender-bending fetish for wearing high heels. But when his roommate's sexy, rugged little brother from Montana shows up one morning, while Noah thinks he has the house all to himself, Noah is caught in the act--naked with his back against the sofa and his white stilettos dangling in the air. Instead of running back out the door in shock, the little brother from Montana doesn't even blink. He drops his duffel bag on the floor and smiles. Then he drops his car keys on the counter and introduces himself to Noah. And when he licks his lips, compliments Noah on his well-defined body and crosses the room to shake Noah's hand, it's Noah who is ready to run out the door in shock.
eBook Publisher: loveyoudivine, 2010 2010
eBookwise Release Date: April 2010
40 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [29 KB]
Reading time: 15-21 min.
Noah didn't travel all the time. He worked at home in a small office on the second floor next to his bedroom. All his work was done with phone calls, computers, and fax machines. He went to the corporate offices several times a year for significant sales meetings. The only time he left the house when he wasn't traveling was to go to the market, the gym, or to hook up with guys he'd met on craigslist...he thought of them as his buds.
The old house was immense, and he didn't have to run into Preston if he didn't want to. You could set your watch by that man's routine: up at six, off to school by seven, and home again at five thirty. Except for Tuesdays when he wore his red plaid button down and met his fiance at the movies. And Preston didn't seem to mind when Noah had the occasional overnight guest, so to speak. Actually, when he did run into one of Noah's buds in the upstairs hall, he'd fold his arms and smile as if he knew a naughty little secret. He'd been living in the same house with Noah for almost nine years, and he knew these guys wouldn't last more than a few weeks at the most.
But what Preston didn't know about Noah would have made the few thin strands of hair he had left stand up straight. He never would have suspected that his good-looking, dark-haired landlord, whom he'd known since freshmen year in college, had a fetish so unusual and so kinky, there wasn't even a porn site devoted to it. None of Noah's ex-boyfriends or buds new about his secret either. This was something Noah kept private, and he didn't want to be caught.
Preston's coke-bottle eyeglasses would have exploded if he'd known that his athletic, masculine roommate had an uncontrollable passion for high heels and cigarettes. Not just any high heels; Noah's had to be white leather pumps, with at least a five-inch heel, but the higher the better. Of course, the cigarettes could be any brand; he wasn't too picky about them, and they really were secondary. The high heels made his heart beat faster. And it wasn't that Noah was a transgender who felt trapped in a man's body and he desperately needed to dress up like a woman to feel complete. He'd never been interested in doing drag or becoming a transvestite. He really didn't even like to watch drag shows. Noah loved being a man and wouldn't have changed that for anything. But when he slipped a pair of white stilettos on his feet, his eyes dilated, his head started to spin and his penis became so hard he could barely walk.
Cigarettes turned him on, too. He'd never been a smoker, not even a social smoker. When he entered a restaurant that allowed smoking, he gritted his teeth and left quickly. When he smelled stale tobacco on someone's clothes, he felt nauseous. But put a burning cigarette in his hand and a pair of white high heels on his feet and he could orgasm without even touching his own erection. He didn't inhale the smoke; he just puffed. So it wasn't as if he were addicted to nicotine. One pack of cigarettes could last him a month.