He asks for help

You sit at your desk and try to concentrate on your paper, putting the faint sounds of searching from Nicole's room out of your mind. You have to get this done, you scold yourself, forcing your mind away from the thoughts of sex, the thoughts of Keith plunging between your welcoming thighs... Oh for God's sake Lisa, get hold of yourself!

"Hey Lisa, I'm sorry to bother you but I'm confused," Keith says, standing in your doorway. Two different shoes in his hand. "I thought it would be simple, but I see how many shoes she's got and I don't know. Which do you think she'd want?" He holds up the two shoes for your inspection.

You look at him, your belly starting to flutter with excitement even as you try to control it. He's holding two different black pumps, one open toe, the other a higher heel.

"What did she tell you to bring?"

"Well that's just it. I didn't really understand what she said, but I thought I'd figure it out when I got here."

You give him a puzzled look, turning your chair to face him. "Well, what did she say?"

"Exactly? Well, I'm not sure I remember it right, but it sounded like 'Bring my black FM shoes."

You start to giggle, holding your hand in front of your mouth as you laugh. Keith looks embarrassed, working on annoyed, and you hold your hand out in apology as you try to get control of your laughter.

"I'm sorry Keith, I'm not laughing at you," you gasp with amusement. "In fact you should take it as a compliment. 'FM Shoes' mean 'Fuck Me Shoes.'" His face blushes slightly, surprised by your words.

"Like I said, take it as a compliment," you continue, giggling. "A girl wears FM Shoes when she expects to have her legs in the air and a man between them."