- I warned you!

- You could kill me!

“We weren't driving too fast.”

- How do you know? I could break my back! You don't give a damn about me! I'm out!

In confirmation of her words, Angela flung open the car door and jumped out. Roy, cursing, tried to unfasten his seat belt, which has a lock jammed. By the time he was able to free himself, Angela had managed to go far back along the road, and her silhouette was barely noticeable in the evening light. On the move, she pulled up her jersey on her back and rubbed a bruised place.

For a moment, Roy hesitated. He looked back at the car, which stood in the middle of the road with both doors open. But the road was deserted, and Angela quickly removed. He pulled the keys from the ignition and rushed after her:

- Angela!

The girl did not stop.

- Forgive me! - shouted Roy - I got excited. I shouldn't have done that.

Angela kept going.

“I can't leave you here alone.” There is no one for several miles around.

Angela left, lost in the gathering twilight.

- You can watch them if you want! Do not go! Please

She stopped. Out of breath, Roy caught up with her.

- Do you seriously say that?

He nodded fatefully.

They returned to the car. Angela sat sideways in her seat, leaving the door open and putting her feet on the ground:

- Give the box, Roy. She fell down when you slowed down.

Fully pushing the back of the driver's seat forward, Roy pulled out a long box that fell to the floor of the car. The box was rectangular, about three feet long, a foot wide, and about nine inches tall. On the label of the House of Shoes emblem, Mr. Keane's old-fashioned calligraphic handwriting read: “For Mrs. Deviniy Gardner, Lockwood Lodge.”

Angela, radiant with delight, like a child, impatiently snatched the box from him:

- How does it open? So simple? No duct tape to tear off - putting the box on her lap, she removed the lid. Under it was black, rustling and at the same time silky to the touch wrapping paper, which crunched as Angela unfolded it, reaching the contents of the box.

- Wonderful paper. It can wrap gifts.

“Careful,” murmured Roy.

“I'm careful,” Angela snorted. “Well, that's all.”

The leather smell of new shoes was felt as soon as the cover was removed from the box. He grew stronger when Angela pulled off the last sheet of wrapping paper, opening to Mrs. Gardner’s special order: a pair of jackets with long tops that would cover the woman’s foot four or five inches above the knee.

Angela's eyes widened, her mouth opened. She knew that there were boots in the box, but when she saw them, she was amazed at the strict beauty of their style, the quality of the material and the tailoring.

“Here it is — she pulled out the boot that lay on top.”

The top was tough enough not to bend or fold in length, but at the same time the skin was soft and warm to the touch. The treads were black, but not shiny: the depth of black was more likely to absorb the light than to reflect it, as if the skin was alive.

Holding the first boot in one hand and still not taking her eyes off him, Angela took out a pair of it. The box fell from her lap to the dusty road, but she did not notice it.

- Roy, just look!

- What? - reluctantly said Roy.

She showed him the outer side of the bootleg of one of the boots. There were no zippers on the boots, as well as no laces, straps, or any decorations, except for one detail. From the outer side of the tops, just above the knee, an unusual emblem was embossed with gold: a chain closed in an inseparable ring of five inches in diameter, inside which was a large letter D, inside which, in turn, were depicted next to the letter M and S, and the lower bend S tail wrapped around the leg M.Even at dusk, gold was brightly shining on the black background of the skin of the boots.

- D. M. S., - read Angela, pointing to each letter in turn, - What could it mean?

- How should I know? I'm just a courier. I have never seen her before. The treads are probably meant for the one whose name begins with D - Diana, or Dorothy, or something like that.

Angela picked up the box and read on the label:

- Mrs. Davinia Gardner. Maybe it should mean "Davinia, my sweet." Maybe her husband ordered these boots for her.

“She paid for them herself,” muttered Roy, “I know that for sure.”

- True? - Angela said, - Although you are just a boy on the premises.

Her attention again turned to the boots.

“Listen, Roy,” she finally asked. “How much can such boots cost?”

“Expensive,” said Roy. “Five hundred, six hundred pounds.” The place where I have to deliver the boots seems to be a sanatorium or something similar. It belongs to Mrs. the Stranger, and she controls him.

Angela thought:

- Do you think I will ever be so rich to afford to buy such boots?

I do not know - Roy growled. He suspected that the boots of the House of Shoes were far superior to any thing from his wardrobe.

That is why he invited Angela to ride with him. He wanted her to see him, dressed in a first-class suit, custom-made, behind the wheel of a large, powerful car, wearing the official title of "courier" serving people who are used to overspending, he could not resist such temptation. However, now he regretted it.

Angela looked into his eyes.

“I could like some fat little daddy, would you, but ...?” But he should really, really like me to look at him. And I probably would not pay attention to him, even if he seemed cute to me, ”she said, skillfully moving from bullying to flattery.

She straightened both legs, keeping her feet inches from the road:

- These boots are about my size. I wonder how I would look in them? And Roy?

Roy felt that this was all over. He did not need to allow her to open the box, if only because he knew her next desire - to try on boots. He knew that if he surrendered and allowed Angela to open the box, her virginity by no one in the shoes of Mrs. Gardner, who had never worn a shoe, would be broken by Angela’s leg.

The girl was already pulling off her own boots: short black biker boots with thick leather soles, with straps, it is not known why they were sewn on the sides at the ankle and the tops of the tops. Taking off her boots, Angela uncovered her sweaty bare feet, on which neither stockings nor socks were worn. Tanned ankles and thighs were elastic and strong. Angela was a sexy girl with developed breasts and sharp hips. When Roy saw how she took Mrs. Gardner’s right boot and bent her leg, intending to pull the boot on her, he immediately ceased to be angry, watching this exciting scene.

Boot tightly crawled on the leg of Angela. She pulled him hard, and for a few moments her foot was stuck at the level of the ankle of her boot. Angela pulled harder, and the boot yanked, taking her knee and the bottom of her thigh inside. When she took the second boot, she looked at Roy and noticed how his expression had changed. She smiled slyly.

- You could help me put this shoe on. Take him by the heel and kneel.

Like him ...