"So…? Seeing we live right across the street from each other, let's get better acquainted?" the nearly exasperated young wife's middle-aged husband continued, winking at her. "First names from now on, right?"

"Why not?" Stan Wilson coolly answered, pulling boxes from tiers.

"You're a shop keeper and I'm an author," Jay said, his choice of titles mortifying Beth. "… Or maybe you didn't know that," her husband grinningly went on as their neighbor returned to seat himself on the stool. "Did you?"

"I… ah… never gave it much thought, to tell you the truth," the wavy haired, handsome man almost icily replied, taking the shoe from its box.

"I understand. You got your daily grind… not much time to think about what other people do. I know what it is. I was in the old selling game myself for awhile… grueling contest. But those days are gone, now… just the creative art when the spirit moves me. Beth, here, does all my final work for me, when I'm not chasing her around the desk… if you get what I mean, Stan…"

She wanted to kill him right there! Dumping a shovelful of white-hot coals into his lying mouth would have served the purpose, Beth thought, utter rage shamefully scathing her insides. Goddamn him, she tremblingly seethed, intentionally uncrossing her nylon-sheathed legs to let their neighbor fit her foot into the shoe!

"H-How… How's that feel?" the dark-eyed shoe salesman stammered, letting her know that he'd caught his first glimpse of what she'd originally come prepared to show him.

"Hmmmmm…" She gained her feet, taking several observing steps on the carpet. They were absolutely ugly! But that had nothing to do with it. He'd looked right up between her legs for a brief moment, and she well knew what he could see through the snug fit of those sheer, nylon panties! Her pubic curls… the very crevice of her pink-fleshed pussy, itself…! "No… no, I don't think so. These aren't what I had in mind…"