"Shit, shit, SHIT." Sally glared at her right foot. The heel of her shoe was broken off, still caught in the chink of the cobblestone walkway she was standing on. She carefully set the bag holding her laptop down and reached down to pull the heel free.

"Two hundred dollars," Sally sighed as she juggled the broken heel for a moment. Then she reached down and removed first the broken shoe and then its counterpart. She unzipped the side pocket of the tote bag, blessing the sales girl that had talked her into it when she had bought the computer.

"It wasn't just because she was so cute," Sally mused. She certainly had been THAT, though. Blonde and cute and nice legs and a happy smile to go with her enthusiasm. Sally virtuously reminded herself that she had agreed to the accessory bag even after she realized that the bubbly young woman was more than casually involved with the dark haired female assistant manager, or whatever the other woman was. They may have fooled everyone else in the store, but Sally's sharp eyes had seen the way they looked at each other.

"Wonder if they would be interested in a three-way sometime?"

Shaking herself out of her pleasant, but irrelevant, thoughts, Sally surveyed her surroundings. There were enough people strolling and shopping that she decided she couldn't just pull off her pantyhose. She shrugged. She would just have to accept that they would be horribly ruined by the time she made her way back to her car.

The older (Forty-something, if you please!) brunette woman contemplated the mile-plus walk to her car. Not that she couldn't do it with ease, she still ran three or four days a week. She really didn't care to do it barefoot unless she was on a beach. And the cobblestone walkways of the restored area of the city didn't qualify as hard-packed sand.

She had been calling on customers here, updating their records. She was a financial planner and a darn good one. She had started out working for a major brokerage house years ago and made good money, as long as she worked the standard sixteen hour days seven days a week. She had enjoyed it until she realized that time was slipping away and she was single and alone. Then she had made a courtesy call on a local insurance broker, and met MaryAnn. For the first time in her life she had fallen in love, not just lust.

Not that MaryAnn wasn't an object of lust. Full-bodied and attractive with breasts matched the phrase "bodacious tatas" in the movie "An Officer and A Gentleman". But it was her wonderful smile that caught Sally's eye, and eventually her heart. They had moved in together after a few dates. Two years ago they had taken the plunge, starting their own company. MaryAnn ran the office and handled the paperwork, the computer system and kept the entire operation together. Sally was the outside salesperson, traveling and convincing people that they would get more and better attention from a small, dedicated company. The combo had proved unbeatable and now the firm of "MS Financial and Insurance" didn't seek out clients, they sought out Sally and MaryAnn.

The job still required travel, a lot of it. Most often it was Sally, but MaryAnn spent a generous amount of time on the road too. They had discussed stepping down their personal involvement some over the last couple of months. They had good people working for them, people they had brought into the business first as employees and then as stockholders. The two of them still held the majority of the shares and intended to maintain control but wanted to spend more time together.

They did have a strange relationship, Sally admitted to herself as she started walking. MaryAnn was one-hundred percent lesbian. She certainly didn't dislike men, having in fact hired the first guy to work for them, a man who was still with them and was their most loyal co-worker. She just didn't find them interesting sexually. Now Sally...

"Oh heck, might as well admit it," thought Sally. "I'm a pushover for either sex. Or maybe its just I'm a pushover for sex." The two women had reached an agreement. Monogamy was not ruled out, they had a varied and extremely inventive sex life. But with all their travel, coupled with the fact both women were in their sexual prime, had made them decide that when they were apart each one was free to enjoy themselves. When they were together there was no one but the two of them, although they occasionally added a third person, always female, just to keep things interesting.

Sally smiled as she thought of the last time they had invited a guest into their bedroom. She had been a nice, sweet blonde woman in her early thirties. A receptionist at a business they dealt with, she had accepted MaryAnn's invitation for coffee, then another for drinks and dinner and finally one to drop by the house where she became the filling in a MaryAnn and Sally sandwich.

"That was nice," Sally said aloud, not worrying about who might be listening. "We need to find someone else." She looked around. Not that it appeared there were any likely candidates in this restored district. She made a mental note of a store she saw called "Asides". She and MaryAnn didn't need any more art work, but a place that sold candles and scented oils was always welcome. Sally giggled. They certainly ran through their share of both those items.

Just then she saw a sign and forgot about candles, oils or any other shop. For tucked in a small corner was a doorway and a small display window. The doorway had a sign hanging over it reading "Leslie's Shoes for Women" and the display window had a pair of absolutely to-die-for black fuck-me pumps.

Sally pressed her nose against the glass, reminding herself not to drool as she did. The hand-crafted leather shone, without a hint of a flaw. Sally pictured MaryAnn in them, wearing nothing else. Well, maybe the black leather bustier she had just purchased for her girl friend that was tucked in the bottom of her luggage.

"I wonder," Sally mused, "If this place sells black fish-net stockings too?" Revising her mental image of MaryAnn to add those stockings, Sally seized the door handle and bounced into the shop.

"Hello, can I help you?"

Sally turned. "Yes, those shoes in the window. They're wonderful and I hope you have them in the size I need."

The tall woman, apparently the only occupant of the store, smiled back at Sally. In a throaty voice she replied. "I'm sure we do." She moved gracefully to the window. Sally noted that the woman had VERY nice legs, well set off by her loose skirt, dark stockings or pantyhose, and attractive high heels.

"These are just wonderful aren't they? And very sexy too, I think." Glancing back over her shoulder at Sally, the woman surveyed her. Sally noted that the woman's eyes carefully took in her own legs before widening at the sight of Sally's stocking feet.

"What in the world happened to you?" She exclaimed. Putting the shoe back in the window she hurried to Sally, Taking her arm, she guided her to a plush. comfortable chair. "Sit, sit!" she commanded.

"One second," Sally said. She surveyed her already ruined stockings. Now that it was just her and the proprietor, she hiked up her skirt and pulled her pantyhose off, balancing first on one foot and then the other. She staggered slightly as she did and the other woman immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders and steadied her.

"Thanks," Sally smiled. "Maybe I'm not as gymnastic as I think I am."

"Oh, I'm sure you are," came the reply. The other woman held out her hand. "I'm Leslie and this is my store."

"I'm Sally." The hand she shook was large, firm and felt good. "Nice to meet you."

"Now, sit down and we'll see about those shoes." Leslie scanned Sally, a light of interest appearing in her eyes that bespoke more than just casual interest in a possible customer. "Perhaps some new pantyhose, although your legs are quite lovely bare."

Sally, always ready to flirt with attractive and interesting member of either sex, sat down in the indicated chair and carefully crossed her legs. Good, Leslie's eyes were even brighter now. "Well," she said as innocently as she could, "What do you think about perhaps some thigh highs? I always find them so alluring."

Leslie briefly touched her own skirt. Sally figured she had guessed right, the other woman was wearing thigh highs. Leslie's angular face lit up and she hurried to open a cabinet drawer and search briefly. She leaned over to reach in the back and Sally enjoyed the flex of the other woman's legs.

"Here," Leslie turned and smiled, a package in her hand. "These are lovely. Very fine nylon that wears exceptionally well yet feels almost like silk. Much less expensive than silk also." She drew up a cushioned stool in front of Sally and gracefully settled down. "I think 'Nude' would go well with your skin and clothing."

Leslie slowly drew the fine stockings up Sally's leg. The strong, capable fingers continually smoothed the material against the skin under it. Sally bit back a moan as Leslie seemed to almost caress her calf. She inched up her skirt and Leslie leaned forward, her hands touching Sally's thigh now. The stocking was drawn tight as Sally stretched her leg out and the flowered elastic top was carefully adjusted.

Leslie moved slightly and repeated the action with the other leg. Sally was in heaven now, enjoying and appreciating the arousing touch of Leslie's hands. Obviously the other woman was seducing her. Also as obvious was Sally's encouragement of the seduction. Out of the corner of her eye, Sally saw that the Open/Closed sign had been flipped around, probably when Leslie first invited Sally in the store. Well, that was alright too.

Leslie's hands were at the top of the second stocking now. She was looking at Sally with poorly concealed excitement, her fingers stroking Sally's thigh and inching up towards frankly already wet panties. Sally made no attempt to smother a moan. Leslie scooted on to the edge of her stool.

Then Sally slipped her foot between Leslie's legs and slid her toes up the inside of the other woman's leg. After all, fair was fair. Leslie jumped, an expression of alarm on her face and began to stand up. It was too late. Sally's foot had reached up between the store owner's legs and touched the hard bulge that was concealed there.

Leslie ran from the room. Sally stood for a moment, completely stunned. A He/She! Or rather, she corrected herself, a Transgendered Female. A She-Male was the term used sometimes. Interesting. She considered the arousal she had just been experiencing. She added in what she had just discovered. A mischievous twinkle lit her eyes and she followed Leslie back into the storeroom.