Make your wish with care,
Your wish may come true.
Heels
Candace was dolled up in her skintight cocktail waitress uniform, a sexy sight. Sassy breasts, long legs, and totally taught bottom as she strolled on her way to work through the shoe department at the new Nordstrom's on Manhattan's 3
rd
Avenue. Admiring exorbitantly expensive high heeled Italian and other exotic leather boots and shoes, she peered at the price of a pair of red bottomed emerald sparkling Louboutin's and stage whispered to herself, "Oh, only if I had that kind of money?"
Horace, browsing nearby, heard, glanced, and grinned, "You like those?"
"Do I?!"
"I'd bet you'd look great in them."
A quizzical look graced her adorable face, as her dreamy hazel eyes shimmered and scanned him. Horace was tall, tanned, handsome, a slightly older man, very fit and dressed in expensive stylish skinny jeans, silk black top, and suave Italian loafers. Candace knew the cost of these things, despite her inexperience and innocence. Many hours spent surveying New York's costly Upper East side was her education.
"Thanks, but I could never afford them," Candace responded, annoyed. "I'm just a glorified barmaid, the tips are good, but since I left home and came here a few months ago to live on my own, I have to pay for everything, rent, food... and this just doesn't..."
"What if it does?"
She did a double take, "I wish. What I would do to make that happen!"
"You really mean that?"
"Oh yes, I wish," she said with aplomb and a what do you care look.
"I could buy them for you?"
"Oh, come on! You'd do that for me? How come?"
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
Surprised and skeptical, "Are you joking, and you'll buy them for me? Did you see what they cost?"
"Forget it, if you don't want to, I understand."
"Wait... ok... sure, but I have to get back to work soon."
"I didn't get your name," he extended his hand, "Horace Horntense, pleasure to make your acquaintance, lovely lady!"
"Candace reached out and Horace took her hand and forearm firm in strong well-manicured mitts to caress her inner arm with his fingertips. Candace fingertips tingled and the hairs on her outer forearm stood up, electrified. She stared slowly up into Horace's dark eyes for what felt like a magic moment. He sensed it too.
"Candace, my name is Candace Trikstoe," then she inhaled.
He pulled her towards him, placed his hand at the nape of her neck by her ear, and with bated breath whispered, "I'd be honored to buy them for you Candace Trikstoe and give them to you later when you come by...."
Blood rushed to her hot ear, static travelled to the center of her body, aroused her private parts, and went all the way down to her toes. She stammered, "Ok... later after work Horace. Or better tomorrow before work, I get off kind of late."
"Yes, I'd like that. May I call you Candy?"
"I've never been called that. OK."
"And one more thing, Candy."
"What's that Horace, or is there something else I can call you?"
He leaned over caressing and again commandeered her ear, "I will buy for you equally luxurious lingerie to go with the heels. If you like? You can call me Hanz, it's my stage name."
"Oh gosh. Oh, yes... Okay Hanz," she stated excited, "I've always wanted to buy such things. Buy me anything you like."
"Do you have a smart phone, Candy? I'll put in my address."
"No, I can't afford that. I share a tiny studio with 2 other girls and barely get by...goodness, I'm going to be late for my shift."
"Here's my card then, see you tomorrow sweetie."
"Yes."
She stuffed the card in the pocket of her form fit short barmaid's bottom. Deciding to be brazen, she lightly kissed his lips, and scurried away. Candy's awesome vertical ass crack beckoned beneath her sheer ensemble, as her lower buttock creases smiled atop luscious legs and held his attention with their bodacious bounce.
"Hey, what size shoes?"
"8," she yelled back.
Mr. Hortense knew, what size undies, just looking at her, and decided on emerald green to match her hazel eyes, high heels, and compliment her wavy scarlet hair.
At work in the lounge, Candy mused to herself, "What am I doing? Going to a stranger's home? But he was sOO handsome, strong, sexy! It felt so good. Be his girlfriend? What's that about? Gee, I only had sex once with Kurt in high school last month after graduation. We only did in the back seat. It wasn't even good. I just love those sexy Louboutin's. And luxurious lingerie! Oh, what would it feel like to have something so expensive and extravagant against my skin? Father and mother would never... oh... I'm so glad I got out of there!"
Ms. Trikstoe reached her hand beneath her miniskirt. Checked that no one was watching. Touched her curly auburn bush, detected dew. "Oops...I'm wet...hope that doesn't show through, good thing my shift is almost over," removed her digits from her panty, brought them back to her face, sniffed, tasted the moisture from her vagina on the tip of her tongue and grinned.
Early afternoon, the next day Candace skeptically strode up 3
rd
Avenue and west on 72
nd
Street to Horace's abode on the 700 block of Park Avenue. Impressed with his card, black with embossed silver letters, Hanz Hunk, his address, phone, and email, atop a shadowy hologram subtle silhouette of classic male and female figures, like Greek or Roman statues she thought, except for their suggestive pose. Candy liked how the card shimmered and changed when tipped in different light. "But, Hunk? I thought it was Hortense. Must also be his...what was that? Stage name...hmm."
An upright uniformed doorman greeted her, "Yes mam, how may I help you?"
"I'm here to see Mr. Hortense."
"You must be Ms. Candace?"
"Yes."
"I am Charles, honor to meet you, mam. Mr. Hortense is expecting you. Please follow me."
Overstuffed chairs, couches, marble, plush carpet, rich woods, tastefully coordinated artwork, fabric, and statuary adorned the lobby. An older couple dressed to the 9s lounged. Charles held the elevator door open, inserted a card hung on a lanyard around his neck in a slot and, pressed the P for Penthouse button, and sent Candace to Horace's floor. Door closed. She gazed at the mirror walls and marble floor that gleamed. Her reflection garbed in her sexy cocktail waitress costume seen now from more angles than ever before in the mirrored walls boosted her confidence. "I hope I'm doing the right thing," crept into her consciousness. She felt guilty.
Elevator door slid open to the only suite on the ultimate Penthouse floor. She walked over to his front door, it opened slow, and Hanz smiled, "Welcome Candy, glad you came."
Hesitant she said, "Honestly I wasn't sure if I should have, Horace."
"Please, have a seat. How are you feeling? Not nervous, I hope? I am very, very, very, happy to see you. Don't be afraid. You are amazing!"
"Thanks, I'm OK," she answered sheepishly. "I'm not afraid. Well... maybe... just a little nervous. I never did anything like this before. Your place, it's so ...um...elegant."
"Elegant environment for an elegant lady. You are a gorgeous good girl. I hope you will be my good girl?"
She shook her head and stared at him, paused in wonder at this new unknown, "Yes, I want to be... your good girl."
Candace couldn't help but look around. Large windows that revealed an expansive view of Manhattan engulfed her.
He noticed, "nice view isn't it?"
"Wow," she gulped!
"Yes, all these windows are one way. You can see out. No one can see in. Not that there is anything to see this high up on Park Avenue. This is the tallest building, and we are on the top floor. Top of the world!"
"I've never been in anything like this, but if someone was looking in, I wouldn't mind. I like people to look at me."
"Candy, outstanding that you like to be watched! Try these Louboutin's on now?" He held out the 5-inch stiletto and strapped shoes; that matched her large gorgeous green eyes, that widened.
"Oh YES!" Bending over to put heels on her miniskirt hiked up; cheap white granny panties peeked out.
"God are you cute!" he declared," thrilled by the display.
"These Kicks are killer," she kidded.
"Killer kicks? Didn't know you knew
gansta
slang. I thought you be da country bumpkin."
"Humph! Just so happens Mr. Hortense that I have an excellent memory. I remember everything I hear and see. Can save pictures it in my mind whenever I want. So there!"
"Excuse me Ms. Trikstoe, I won't make that mistake again, I apologize for underestimating you."
Mini-skirted, bare midriff, and uniform's translucent white top, and incongruous underpants, did not match Candy's fashionable new shoes. Watching her bend over, slip on and strap the heels, stirred stiffness into Hanz's penis.
"Tremendous! Let me see them closer, turn around. Stupendous stems my dear, and killer body."
She blushed. "Oh, you think so?" she huffed, "I'm honored."
"What a great derriere!"
"What's that mean Hanz?"
"Means your tush sweetheart, it's French, your butt is to die for!"
"Oh, thank you," and she stuck it out for him. "There are many words for cute girl's behind aren't there?"
Candace then first noticed cameras on tripods, microphones, some suspended from the ceiling, and other AV equipment scattered around the great room. This made her feel like she had acting in school plays, her favorite thing to do. Friends and teachers told her how good she was at it. She always got the lead role, and for as long as she could remember, wanted to be an actress. Able to memorize lines after seeing them once, due to her gift of photographic memory, made it easy.
But Candace's strict rigid Jehovah's Witness father and mother never approved. Never saw her perform. Now, July, hot and steamy in NYC, Candy felt lucky, for the first time since she bolted from her rural roots near Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania right after high school graduation that June. No one approved. Everyone back home told her it was a bad idea. For the first time she thought, "maybe not such a bad idea."
Lenses, mikes, mirrors on the walls and ceilings, windows all around, bright summer mid-day sun shining in stoked her natural tendency to ham it up! To act! She was excited!
Horace got down on the floor, close to her toe, looked up at her, licked her Louboutin's, up her legs, while cuddling them with both hands. She cooed "mmm," satisfied that she'd shaved her bare stems that sun up.
