Seeking the Thrill of Exposure

If you’ve read my other stories, you might get a sense of where I’m at and what I’ve been up to. If you’d like to see what I wear, let me know and I’ll share some photos*. I was dressed in knee-high stockings, a g-string, and a corset with garters underneath jeans, a shirt, and a jacket. After my appointment, I headed into the lounge and settled into a small conference room. Sitting behind a table, I put on my three-inch strap heels. For about fifteen minutes, I filed some papers, then planned to take a walk to the vending machine for a drink and snack. Peeking out of the room to check if anyone was around, I headed toward the machine but heard someone talking nearby; I wondered whether to retreat back into the room before deciding against it. Luckily, no one came by while I was gone.

After another fifteen minutes, I decided I needed a sip of water. Ensuring my pants were low enough to cover my heels, I stepped out into the lounge and walked down two hallways, passing a staircase until I reached a fountain. As I drank, I noticed a lady leaving the restroom and taking the same route back to the lounge. Following her slowly, I saw she had taken the stairs down. That’s when it occurred to me: why not try my heels on those stairs for the first time? Worried someone might steal my bag, I decided to head back to the room temporarily to hide it in a cabinet.

I then walked over to the stairs and looked down. Fear gripped me—I didn’t want to fall—so I grabbed the railing and made my way down carefully. When I reached the bottom step, I realized part of the first floor wasn’t carpeted. A bit afraid that someone might hear the click-clack of my heels and realize a man was walking around instead of a woman, I took a deep breath, stepped out confidently, turned around, and walked back up.

While wandering on the second floor before returning to my room, I leaned over the railing to look down at the first floor. The carpet ran from an elevator all the way to a bench placed in the center of the building. I could have taken the second set of stairs near that bench, but I wanted more excitement by taking the elevator and not knowing who might pass by inside with me. As we went up, I stood close to the doors so my heels wouldn’t make too much noise when they opened. Stepping out, I saw a lady standing behind the bench. Hesitating for just a moment before approaching her spot, I kept my bag in front of my legs to hide them from view while worrying about what people might think seeing my heels exposed.

After several minutes passed, I moved my bag slightly as if wanting others to notice it more clearly—but still ensuring that my pants remained low. Twenty minutes later, finally ready, I walked toward the exit; clicking along on tiles underfoot again looking behind me anxiously checking whether anyone noticed anything unusual during this time period when exiting through parking lot doors because afraid someone might see myself there too so instead just continued walking across tile then crossed over onto carpeted areas further ahead before going upstairs once more arriving finally at private restroom changing clothes leaving building entirely.

I often feel a sexual charge wearing women’s clothing but here it seems mainly fear being noticed driving everything forward now thinking perhaps someday soon walk office fully enclosed within heels maybe even staying overnight locked inside forevermore unsure exactly how though certain write details down afterward.