Manolo Blahniks for a busty diva

Franz is my gay German friend in London, although he doesn’t look like he bats for the other side. He is cool about my escort job and is edgy and handsome. We go to gigs together and people assume we are a couple, which is great fun, as we can both relax and just enjoy a night out without my ample breast attracting guys to hit on me. Franz had acquired VIP tickets to a prestigious Mayfair club and rumour had it that a famous male singer would be attending with his entourage. I was definitely going to have a sneaky peek at him. However I had to go from work, so I took a change of clothes and given I’d been in stilettos for five hours already, I would wear pumps. The Manolo Blahniks were stuffed into my bag.

Franz looked cool in his designer gear. He worked as an Analyst, for a German Investment Bank and whilst he has a good salary, in reality, he earns a fifth of what I earn. Of course, he is not aware of that fact!

So Franz and I drank various naughtily-named cocktails, until one of Franz’s friends joined us. He was called Cal and was gorgeously androgynous. Cal told me he would love to have a night of passion with a busty woman “namely me”. I laughed and asked him if he would be the “horse” or the “jockey.” We all giggled in our private booth.

The male singer arrived and the place hushed for a few moments as he swanked by. One of the three women who flanked him slipped slightly on her six inch heels. She recovered quickly, but realised her thin heel had snapped. I worked out she was about my size, as I know feet much better than most. There are so many men and women with foot fetishes; you simply would not believe it! My pair sported four-inch silvery heels, so I rose and wandered over. I explained to the bodyguard that the lady might need a pair of Manolo Blahniks, which could be returned to my address the following day. I handed him a card with my address. The bodyguard took them and a few minutes later I was passed a message signed by the singer. “How kind, we will clean and return them tomorrow.” I didn’t let on I’d had sex in them three times this afternoon whilst wearing them!

The next day a large box was hand-delivered to my flat. It contained not just my silver shoes, but another pair in a blue colour. The message was simple. “A good turn deserves another and the blue should match your eyes.” It came with a signed photo and I just had to smile. The singer must have taken a peek at me at some point.

 

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