Heels

Tired and jet lagged from her latest overseas trip on behalf of the charities she represented, Mary would have preferred not to go out tonight. But an invitation from the Hockings to one of their seasonal dinner parties was the hot ticket of the moment amongst their friends and colleagues and she knew that Nigel was excited, smug even, that they were of the chosen few. Sending her excuses with Nigel would only lead to a prolonged bout of bickering between them and might even arouse his suspicions - she was not ready for that yet. From habit she laid out an outfit for him in his dressing room so that he would be able to change quickly when he arrived home from chambers, made a quickcall to their child-minder to confirm her time of arrival and noted the car was valeted, parked and ready to go.

The extra hours she had spent in their gym over the last couple of months had really paid off, her new blue strapless silk dress embraced her intimately, showing off to perfection her golden tan and toned arms. Her freshly highlighted natural blonde hair curved elegantly around her classically beautiful face, still young enough to require a minimum of cosmetic addition to enhance it. She went easy on the jewellery, rejecting most of the contents of a well-stocked, antique cherry wood box for a simple pair of diamond studs.  But which shoes should she wear? She had laid out a pair of strappy sandals with a one inch heel, they were expensive and chic but worn often enough to be comfortable. For some moments, she held the sandals in her hand, standing stock still, lost in thought. Then, furtively, Mary knelt down on the carpet next to her bed, slid a shoe box from underneath it and held the box on her lap. She read and reread the message attached to the gift card until the front door downstairs slammed and made her jump. Delving into the mounds of featherlight, branded tissue paper she removed the contents and pushed the empty box back under the bed. With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation she slid her feet into a pair of delicious, spike heeled, nude, lace and patent leather louboutins.

 David and Sophie Hocking greeted Mary and Nigel warmly when they walked into the vast marble floored hall of the Hockings’ London townhouse. The two men strolled ahead towards the conservatory,talking animatedly about the latest cricket results.

 In silence, Sophie raked Mary with her eyes, letting them rest for some moments on the shoes. She took Mary by the hand and led her gently but firmly to a small, dark ante-room.

        “Thank you for wearing them tonight,” Sophie whispered into Mary’s hair, “you look… ravishing.”

 Then with sensuous hands she set about disrobing Mary of all but the shoes and her lace topped stockings.