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Sometimes Rebecca just wore the boots to attract attention. She loved the way some men stared but tried to hide it, no matter how obvious it was.
She sat at the bar slowly eating pretzels, one leg crossed over the other so her boot hung lazily to one side. These were the black, shiny ones. Black patent leather, nearly to the thigh, with laces all the way up the front. Lacing them up was laborious, but it was worth the effort. She loved the way they clung to her shins tightly, she loved the way they looked.
Obviously the man at her side liked the way they looked, too. She noticed his eyes wandering once more to them, then back to his drink. He cleared his throat.
She ignored him and ran one gloved hand up the slick, black shiny material, fingering the laces, then down over the long five inch heel. She rubbed her ankle for a bit then stretched.
He glanced over again and she turned to him, catching him.
He smiled nervously. "I like the boots."
She laughed and slapped a hand on the material again. "Yes they're nice. But a bear to lace up. Do you have any idea how long it takes to lace these things?" she asked, thrusting her long leg out toward him, her spike heel precariously aimed at his crotch.
He shifted and looked at them. "I..I have no idea."
She leaned over, sliding a pretzel into her mouth. "I call them 'the cruel shoes'".
The man again shifted a bit, running his hand through his hair, lifting his eyes to her. "I guess that means they take a long time to lace up?"
Chuckling, she paused. "That's not why I call them that."
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