Kinky Boots

‘Ring, ring, ring.’ My mobile phone went, as I was driving down the motorway.
“Paul Young,” I answered. 
“Hi, Paul. It’s Nicole.” A voice trilled in my ear.

Nicole had started work, for my company six weeks previously, as a window dresser. She was only 19, very petite and absolutely gorgeous. The guys in the warehouse had christened her ‘Kylie’ because she looked like, the singer, Kylie Mynogue.
“I’ve just been in to see Jimmy, at Saville Sports, and he wants to know if we can do a promotional display, at Easter. What do you think?” She continued, in this vein for a few minutes. 

While I was her Boss, she could have actually rang her first line manager, Rod, for something as simple as this. 
As the Sales Manager, I would speak to staff at all levels, to discuss business, so I didn’t mind the call. In fact it was a very pleasant distraction, as I had been driving for a couple of hours. 

I am a, middle-aged man, working for a Ladies fashion company, and have a very good relationship with all of our staff, especially the younger ones. They seem to regard me as an ‘uncle’ figure, the type of person that they can talk to in confidence, without any danger of recriminations. They all seem to trust me, and like being around me.

Our conversation had drifted on for about 10 minutes, when it changed course, and she began joking about how lonely she got when she had to stay, overnight, in hotels. She had been away from home for two nights; myself three. I would be away this evening too. We were now mildly flirting, with each other, which I found quite exciting, but I presumed that she was just having a little bit of fun at my expense.

“Oh, Paul.” She said, suddenly, “You said that I could have some shoes from the new collection, didn’t you?”
“Of course, you can.” I replied. I should have known that there would be an ulterior motive; she wanted something!
“Well,” she suddenly lost confidence, “I’ve got some work shoes, but I’d really love a pair of ‘Pasha’! I’ve got a little denim mini-skirt that they would look fantastic, with!” She blurted out the last words.

We have a collection of ladies shoes, and Pasha are black leather, knee high boots, with three inch heals – very sexy!
“I’m just picturing you in them, ” I joked. 
“Do they make me look sexy?” She laughed.
“More than a little bit!” I continued the joke. “You would have to let me watch you try them on, if I gave you a pair!”
“That would be okay; and I’d even wear my little skirt for you! He, he, he, he.” 
“If that looks as good as in my imagination, I’d have to bring my camera!” I was now laughing out loud, but feeling as Horny as Hell. 

My God! I had a stiffy! Did this girl know what she was saying? What she was doing to me? 
“I’d have to think about a camera. But if I said yes, could I have a pair?” Nicole chuckled.
“Of course you can. I’ll make the phone call. Leave it to me.” I ended the call (40 minutes!)
I was virtually shaking with excitement, as I ordered them, pretending that they were for a customer.
Although my wife thinks that I’m a flirt, I hadn’t had a conversation like that since I was a teenager!
In my hotel, that night, I had two fantastic wanks, thinking about Nicole and her boots!

I spent many happy hours during the following week, reliving the conversation, and fantasising about Nicole wearing her ‘Kinky Boots’. Some days I was sure that she ‘fancied’ me and would perform all kinds of perverted sex acts for me, and other days, when I realised the futility of my fantasies, I knew that was all they would remain.

I collected the boots the following Wednesday, from our warehouse. 
As I got into my car, my mobile rang. I didn’t recognise the number. “Paul Young,” I said in my best business tone. 
“Hi, Paul, it’s Nicole, here.” Her happy voice melted in my ear. Instantly, my heart began beating faster, and there was another stirring in my groin.
“Hello, there,” I tried to remain calm, “How are you?”

“Brilliant!” She carried on in her childlike manner, telling me about a customer that she had seen, that day.
“Oh, before I forget, I’ve got your boots, for you.” I said matter of factly.
“YESSSSSSSS!” She squealed with delight. “Fantastic! I love you! When can I have them? When can I have them?” She kept screaming into the phone.
“Phew!” I thought. At least I hadn’t totally misread the situation.

“Where are you, later this week?” I asked
“I’m in York today, Manchester tomorrow and Liverpool on Friday. Where are you going to be?”
“Liverpool wouldn’t be too far out of my way,” I said, “Which hotel are you staying at on Thursday night?” I asked, my heart racing, and my cock hardening by the second.

“I haven’t booked one. Why? Are you going to stay, too?” She asked, with a sexy laugh.
“If you want me to, I will.” I replied, trying to keep my options open.
“Ooh! You naughty man,” she whispered, her voice now purring, “Stay over, and you can take me somewhere nice for dinner. I’ve got my mini skirt with me. Do you want me to wear that?” 

DO I WANT? I hadn’t thought of anything else for a week!
“That would be nice.” I whispered, still trying to remain calm. Feeling brave, I continued, “Does that mean that I can bring my camera?”
“He, he, he.” She giggled, “I’ll let you book a hotel.” 
The phone went dead.