S is for Selena

And at the side, though not entirely to my own taste, one pair of distinctly fetish-like high-heeled boots, black and shiny and very studded. I could see Isabella in them, I really could. Definitely, this place had a new manager and he was stamping his own mark on the window display. Well, I hoped so. I'd gone for a mini-dress, of course, and my favourite wig. As I'd moved towards the shop door to push, it had opened and two young girls had been on the point of leaving.

"Goodnight Mr Jones," they had both called, almost in unison.

"Goodnight Evelyn. Harriet. Oh, hello. Er - good evening."

He'd seen me. He'd stuttered. I'd known that a tall leggy blonde tended to do that to a man, that's why I'd chosen to wear my long platinum 'big hair' wig.

I checked his name badge to be sure I'd heard the two assistants right. 'Kenneth Jones'. This was him. This was 'Ken,' the guy Isabella had been talking about.

I'd missed two weeks in a row at the club, family commitments you know. OK then, my mother had been to stay and there was absolutely no way I could have worn such a short skirt and heels while she'd been there. Mr Jones turned towards me, he just couldn't help looking down at my legs again!

"I'm afraid we're closing now. Maybe you could come back tomorrow."

I looked disappointed.

"Oh dear, I'm looking for a pair of really high heels. I was so hoping to find something suitable tonight. I know it's late...."

That did it.

"Well, maybe - er. Do come in."

I slipped in past him and took off my long coat to reveal my tight mini-dress, my long legs and my high-ish heels. Only four inch heels though.

"Well, if you don't mind me serving you, madam. I'm sure we can find something quite quickly."

Yes! Got him, I could tell. But if I wasn't mistaken, he hadn't got it, not yet anyway. This could be even more fun that I'd anticipated.

"I'll have to lock the door, to stop other customers coming in. Since we're really closed, if you see what I mean."