I Love Shoes, But...

I really love a good pair of shoes. Especially a good pair of comfortable shoes. Today I went to work in a beautiful pair of boots. I love boots. I loved these boots the moment I saw them in the shop window. So, against my better judgement, and trespassing all my own rules about shoes, I bought them then and there.

I broke several of my own laws in getting them. Rule number one: never buy clothes or shoes on the spot. Go home and ponder, make sure you have something it will go with in your wardrobe, come back and fit. Rule number two: NO HIGH HEELS! I don't know who was the first dooffuss to think about high heel shoes, but I bet you its not a woman. No woman I know would even consider such an atrocity, or torture thousands of woman still to come with something like a high heeled shoe. Rule number three: never pay more then the limited amount for any item.

So, now I own a pair of boots which I got on the spot, it cost trice what my limit for shoes allows, and it has HIGH HEELS. I am not good with high heels. I have three pair of high heels in my closet which I look at often, but never wear. There were a time when I wore high heels all day and night. I even carried two kids simultaneously wearing high heels and kept the sway in my hips. But after a certain age it just no longer seemed so important to have that swagger in my step, and the comfies became my friends.

Today I swayed around the office, enjoying all the compliments on my shoes, and feeling very chuffed with myself. That is until the business owner decided to appear on the scene. Now, our business owner cannot do anything himself. He needs someone at his beck and call every moment of the day. At home it is his wife, at work it is me. He was only there for an hour before i started regretting the shoes. Two hours into the ordeal I was wishing I could sit for about ten minutes to rest. Three hours into the horror, I was in serious trouble and thinking about taking the shoes off and going around in my socks. By the time he left, I was totally dead set against the shoes as well as dreaming about how I could toss them out of the car window on the way home.

As I stumbled out to the car, barely able to stay upright, one of my coworkers whistled out of the office window. "Looking good, Grieta!"

I forgave the shoes. I think we can grow on each other.

Grieta Grieta 41-45, F 37 Responses Apr 12, 2011

Your Response


Love those boots I've got a pair similar and feel the same way about them sometimes

Bravfuckin o. Thank god i didnt wear emĀ«]


I had so much fun. Thanks for the wonderful inspiring game. You are so creative.

When you're ready for round two, just say the word.

Oh, and I used to be a grown up, but it did not work well for me. Don't plan to go there again.


Grieta....I just pictured us sitting on the floor, you with your Barbie and me with my GI Joe, playing out that story. We really do need to grow up one day.

Very nice job and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

@ Beaubill...

I think the best position



the best position for me would be Gunner. I'm already into arms and ammo.

*Door opens*

*organ music*


*door slams*

*As soon as the errant boot flashes toward him, he does a cartwheel to avoid it while simulateously whipping off the cape and, holding one end he sweeps the other at her ankle, wrapping it around it and pulling back so she lands on her bottom*

*He quickly regains his stance and pulls the cape up over his face again, this time, his left hand firmly encasing his nether region under the cape. As he begins to speak, he starts mincing backwards on tiptoes toward the door, trying to look steathy but looking more like he was doing a quick-step moonwalk*

Curses, you dastardy booter of the bollocks. This time we fight to a draw. Rest assured when next we meet I shall have my titanium-clad jockeys and a bottle of talcum powder. Armed ony with these....a strong since of moral fiber and superior background music, truth and right shall reign supreme.

*As he finishes speaking, his back hits the door and he quickly fumbles for the knob. He opens it while keeping a steady gaze at the stealthy menace of the gonads. Just before stepping out into the night , he turns back to declare in earnest."

To quote the creed of the Pervertees, 'One for all and all for me.' Wherever you look, there you shall find me, steady on my endless quest without one blink to distract me from my lofty goal. For I am...... know....

*He slams the door*

Well, Bill, just so you know love... I blame all of this on you.

Yip. And you better get that boat finished soon. I have some business with Mr Pretend over here. Is he in for a surprise when he stow away in MY room. I have whips. I have paddles. I have rope. I have cuffs (not those sissy ones with the fur). I intent to use them all....

*evil laugh*

****** AK47. Take the safety off. Check the ammunition belt. Take snake venom out of tiny pocket of her uniform, dips boot heels into it. All is well. Nods at herself.*

"Now, **** Whisperer, I have to say you sound just sweet. But I know pretenders. I have seen some really world class pretenders. Hell, I used to be a world class pretender. Demi Moore and Kate Winslet and Sandra Bullock has nothing on me, sir. I can out act all of them."

*Flings head back... red hair whips through the air with a swiiiiiiiish*

"I get this really funny feeling about you sir... especially when you take out the camera and then click away. I know you are taking photo's of me. I know that in fact you are not a savior, but like you proclaim to be... a perverteer."

*Takes one step back. Plants feet one a bit in front of the other, and a good half step apart. Lifts the AK47 and aims at the general area which offends her.*

"I have also seen that I am not the first girl who has fallen victim to your dirty scheme. You come disguised as good, and then you beguile the innocent and naive."

(I have not been referred to as a girl in ages! I have still to decide if I like it, or feel offended. I'll let you know as soon as my multiple personalities have all put in the vote.)

"I am not innocent, neither am I naive. I have been had before.

You have 10 seconds to state your intention... your true intention, or you will meet the full force of...

The Ball Basher.

*drum roll*

*Rut roh*

*Carefully stays out of kicking distance of those high heel boots she wears*

Well, dear grieta, the reason I have come here to you to talk is that it has come to my attention that you have been allowing srange men to wander into your comment section and viturally take off every stitch you have on and take dirty pictures of you.

It is a special concern of mine that girls be kept held to only the hisghest standards. I hardly think this sort of behavior is appropriate now, girl. When girls are goiig down a slippery slope, I feel it is my duty to vigialantly step in and provide the appropriate discipline.and strict guidance they need to keep them on the straight and narrow for I am..........

The **** Whisper!!

*organ music*

*Green eyes grow large at the hearing of the true identity. Hand to mouth. Sharp intake of breath. Little giggling being born deep inside... it rolls up and up and up and at last tumbles out of my mouth*

"Oh, no! Not the **** Whisperer!?"

*appropriate blush*

"I will have you know sir, my Mother -God rest her dear soul- warned me against men like you. Do not take me for a fool because I look a bit daft. Its just the way I comb my hair... not who I am inside. i will have you know that i am an educated woman of the world. I have been places. I have seen things. I have life experience."

*takes a deep breath, fans herself with her hat and then continues*

"Don't take me for a fool, kind sir...

ahem... I mean **** whisperer.

Just so you know, I also am not what I appear to be."

(and now I understand that you are a man, and as such you do luuuuuve a woman in a uniform for one reason only- to take it off her. I just want to categorically state that NO man has been able to ***** my suit off me so far. This is a fact I am proud of and don't think you will be THE ONE to accomplish this feat.)

*rips everyday clothes off her and ta-ra....*

( />

Ball Basher!

Well, seagirl look good enough to have men hanging out the window calling after you. you might be too hard on yourself, there, matey.

*He nudges the still parrot on his shoulder*

I thought this damn bird was dead but the pet guy told me he was just asleep. Looks to me like the little bastard has narcolepsy, if you ask me. That guy seemed a little shifty. Limey bastard.

Anyhoo, grieta, the shock of the uniform will wear off soon. It's just that you are the only one.

*Takes a digital camera from his inside jacket pocket and snaps a few quick shots before deftly replacing it*

you can sell it honey. It might be a bit before I can go. I'm presently working on a social redemption project. Takes a lot of time. And then there is my alter-ego, of course.

By day I am a jackleg philosoher, bon vivant and part-time perverteer. But by night, I become.......

*He picks up a floor length black cape and, as gracefully as a matador, twirls it around until it rests on his shoulders. He dons a big black fedora then, taking the hem of the cape in his right hand, he pulls it up to cover his nose, leaving only dark eyes staring out between his cloak-covered forearm and the brim of the hat*

(While the author realizes, at this juncture in the narrative, that he has you on the edge of your seat, mouth agape in anticipation of his true identy, he would like to take a moment to say that he is about to use an offensive word. In no way does the author mean to be offensive. The word is used in a purely humourous tone and in no way does it demean anyone in his mind. This **** must have been much easier to write before the age of political correctness.)

The **** Whisperer!!

*ominous stacatto organ music plays at the utterance of the words, building to a long sustained note*

Like I told you, Captain, I do not follow direction well.

No sireeee. I am a little rebel and I pack a mean punch. Be prepared to have a live wire on board. I'm from Africa... we have to be tough here or die.

Well, that was before I got the regulations about dress.

I'm still pondering if I want to expose the poor human population to the hail damage on my thighs.

or my sagging stomach.

and then my boobs are not what they used to be... without the PROPER support they look like oranges hanging in pantyhose.

Tsk tsk tsk.


Well, you know, Grieta...the old sign-up room is a mite slow, don't you think? Is that cobwebs on the stack of applicaions over there? Whew.

OK...I'll make a note, Grieta...

*Grieta does not do windows*

I really must complement you on the uniform, though, my dear. You wear it perfectly.

*slapping herself against the forehead*

Theme song???

Are you wearing square pants?

Anyhow... see this link: EP Link for the applications.

There is a nice picture (I wish) of my legs on there.

Oh yeh... I will do just about anything that does not involve cleaning.


You know, Bill....I've been thinking about this old boat trip and was wondering if you wouldn't mind if I tagged along. We would call ourselves the Two Perverteers. Sign up a crew of girl subbies and cast off. What do you think?

I even wrote us a theme song, Bill. Listen.....


They're dashing, they're daring.....your bodice they'll be tearing...

The two and only twooooooooooo




I won't do the tights but I do want the hat, Bill. Picture it.....casting off to the in days of old.....when ships were made of wood and men were made of iron. All the subbies battening down the hatches and belaying the mainsail. I haven't quite figured out their unforms yet, Bill but simple is best I think.

Then a big storm comes out of nowhere and tosses us relentlessly around the sea. Water is rushing over the bow and wood is cracking. It was a thing so horrifying that I almost missed how the girls' nipples were staniding out so pretty. We all manage to hang on to enough rubble to drift to shore and we all lay wasted on the beach of a deserted island.

We manage to carve out a life there, my a bevy of subbies. The day after I die, you all are rescued and live in prosperity for the rest of your lives. As for me.....I'll call it even.

Now, this is just a rough draft, Bill. I'm going to have to spend some time shall we say?.....the little details. The story is always told in the details.

Think about it. How many girls have signed up so far? time limit. Grieta? Did yu say you were going? Report to me for a uniform fitting, swabbie.

@ topbear

hide in my room. I promise to treat you right. I'll bring the boots.

*Walks in and picks up an application*

Hmmmmm....isn't this sexual discrimination? There's always the stowaway option. I'll just hide in a dark corner somewhere.

*Smiles to himself....puts down the application and walks out again, heading for the pier*

To all those interested, apply here:

EP Link

The way it looks to me, he'll end up with a all woman crew.

bb better finish hs boat ASAP! he's got ladies lined up along the entire coast!


Finish the boat and we'll see.

I don't want to be responsible for bodily harm to any important parts of you.

So what?

I love them. Don't they turn you on? Not worth the swim?

Or are you looking for a way out of the deal?

My boss is married to the accountant...and I don't even get a fuzzy feeling thinking about him... now the IT dude is totally another matter.

I wish I had it in me to sabotage the system so that we can call him to come out and fix.... well fix it.


and then I can stand around and drool over him.

Nice....Greta, I think your boss just wanted you to sway around in those boots so he can look at you:)

Okay, honeys...

I found the "peep toe sling back do me like a dog shoes"

By summer I want to wear these without breaking my neck:

Okay... now I am googling the shoes. I want to see what they look like.

shoes that can make a man swim are worth every penny!! you go, girl!

It was not nice for me the rest of the month... basically spend all my grocery money on that one pair... currently broker then the church mouse.