Excerpt from “Can I Help You?”
Can I Help You? appears in Sexiest Soles: Erotic Stories about Feet and Shoes. I used to work in a women’s shoe store, and much of the setting for the story draws upon my experiences working there. It’s strange, the mindset I got into when so much of my time was focused on selling. Expending so much energy convincing strange women that a specific pair of shoes was the key to beauty and happiness made me start to convince myself of the same, and it reached the point where a beautiful pair would make my heart begin to pound, thinking of the kind of woman it would make of whoever chose to wear them. Here’s an excerpt from the story:
There were exactly thirty-seven minutes left on the clock when I was jolted out of my boredom by the sight of a black-suited, bob-haired young woman striding through the glass doorway. She was tall, intimidatingly so, and I noted with interest that she hadn’t forsaken the towering heels shunned by more timid women of her height. She was dressed quite professionally, but something in her walk and the cut of her clothes hinted obliquely at more hedonistic pursuits. She was wearing no makeup except on her lips, which were painted a deep wine color that drew attention to their plushness. Her skirt ended just above the knee, with a cut slender enough to suggest the curve of her hips, and her legs were sheathed with nude stockings of a very fine fishnet.
As was my habit with customers, I stole a few glances at her shoes. She wore unadorned black pumps with a pencil heel and a pointed toe that glowed with the muted sheen of expensive leather. As she walked they flashed hints of their red, polished soles, and they were cut low enough in front to expose the cleft between her toes Though pumps with heels like those presented themselves as respectable black dress shoes, they often turned their wearers into little girls playing dress-up, giggling or shrieking as they stumbled about the store. This woman, however, wore them with expert grace and precision, her unflinching steps not betraying the slightest degree of discomfort.
Women like this – professional, rushed, and clearly shoe-savvy – were often good for fast and easy commissions, just enough to buy a decent meal and a glass of wine. But there was something else on my mind as I approached her with a smile on my lips, ready to offer my assistance. I felt my anxious student self begin to peek out from behind some corner in my mind, wondering what it would be like to share a drink with her and later join her in her hotel room.
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