Avril and the Shoe Store

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This is a work of fiction.

_Avril and the Shoe Store_

This story is about an experience of mine in 2010.

At that time I was working in a well-known sportswear store in West Hollywood, not far from the strip and just outside of Beverly Hills.

I was the deputy manager and on this specific day, we'd received a telephone call from Head office saying that a celebrity customer would be visiting the store that evening. Exciting? You'd think so but, 'No'. It generally meant that after closing up for the day, we'd have to stay behind, unpaid, and look after a VIP. The first few times we'd received that kind of call, all the staff had all spent the afternoon guessing who might be coming. All sorts of guesses had been wrong when a car pulled up and a middle-aged gentleman that nobody knew knocked on the glass front door and said, "Hi, you should have been notified that I'd be coming this evening". It had turned out that he was some middle-ranking government official with an overinflated ego. Hardly a celebrity!

The next few times that we'd received similar calls saying that, so-called 'celebrities' would be coming in for (what the company called) 'closed-VIP-visits', it had been a record producer, film editors, or some backing singer from a band that none of us had heard of. None of them spent any significant money and most were just tripping on their on opinion of themselves.

Today's call was, at least, the fifth call we'd had in the past few months and none of my staff were in the slightest bit interesting in hanging around after work to see who this week's nobody would be.

I locked up the store at 18.00 and the rest of the team all left. I waited until 18.25 and was about to give up and go home as well when a long black limo pulled up in front of the store.

I watched as a huge bodyguard slide out of the front passenger seat and make his way to my shop door. He was dress all in black and wore shades. He knocked his fat knuckles on the glass even though I was stood right there, and said, "Ok. We're ready. Open up".

I rolled my eyes and unlocked the door as he made his way back to the curb and opened the rear door of the limo to allow his client to get out.

I watched with amazement as the Canadian pop star Avril Lavigne sprung out of the car and headed for my open door.

The big lump of a bodyguard stayed very close behind her and I was surprised that once she was inside the store that she turned to him and said, "right I'm fine now. I'll call you when I'm finished. You can fuck off now". She used her hand to usher him away in a shooing motion. He looked rather reluctant and said that he'd prefer to wait but she was clear and said "for god's sake, I'll be fine. I'm not a fucking baby, now fuck off". He took a few moments of consideration and then he turned and made his way back to the car which quickly pulled away down the street.

I was a little shocked at her dismissive and rude behaviour towards this poor guys and had to assume she was a bit of f diva.

I closed and locked the door and as I turned back around I saw that Miss Lavigne had taken no time in making herself at home and was wandering down the length of the wall looking at the shoes.

I decided to give her a few minutes and just stood quietly and watched her.

She was sexy. Really sexy! There was no other word to describe her. I was definitely a 'fan' if not of her music then certainly of her rebellious punk style'.

She was about 5 feet tall. Maybe 5'2". She was dressed exactly as I'd seen her on TV. She had her hair blonde and straight with some pink dye in the front and was dressed in a tank top with a motif on it. A short hockey-style skirt and long white over-the-knee socks. On her feet, she wore some beaten-up old converse all-stars.

I gave her a few more minutes and then moved towards her casually asking, "is there anything specific that you need or are looking for?"

She turned towards me and smiled. At first, I thought she wasn't going to actually say anything but then, in a much more friendly voice than she'd used to her bodyguard and an almost reluctant tone, she said, "is there anything I need? Hmmmm, yes, yes there is. What I need, is to get out of my world for ten fucking minutes. To speak to someone from the real world".

She let out a long and heavy sigh and looked pretty sad. She took a moment and then spoke again. "I just want to have a conversation with someone that isn't continually trying to get money out of me or work an angle on me". She flopped down heavily onto one of the seats used for trying on shoes. I wondered for a moment if she was going to cry.

I didn't know what to say, so I settled with a compassionate tone and said, 'Oh fuck, that's shit'.

She stayed seated and repeated back in a defeated voice, "Yeah, pretty shit".

I really didn't know where this conversation was going and didn't really know what to do. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked. I was surprised at just how vulnerable and small this wealthy, famous young woman seemed.

She appeared to shake herself down a little and brighten herself up. She sat up and said, 'Yeah, I wanna spend some fucking money as I'm not usually allowed out the house cause my record label has me under such strict body guarding. They tell me I've got money but I never get to enjoy it. So fuck it. Let's get some new sneakers". She was smiling now.

"The stupid thing is that I don't actually know what size I am. For the past 5 years, I haven't chosen any of my own clothes. It's all be done by fucking Clara".

I was nodding and didn't want to interrupt.

Avril continued, "Clara's my stylist". She used a very sarcastic tone to say 'my stylist', and it was immediately obvious that there was no love lost there.

"OK". I smiled and said "let me grab the measure for you".

She moved over onto the seat in the middle of the store and I grabbed the foot measuring machine.

I settled in front of her and for the first time, I was conscious of this delicious young woman in her hockey shirt and long socks in front of me. I kneeled at her feet and she used one heel to kick off the other shoe and then repeated the exercise for the other foot.

Instantly I was hit with the stench of her trainers. They stunk. No argument they were the worse smelling old converse that I'd ever smelt. I recoiled without thinking and screwed up my nose in disgust. I didn't care who my customer was and I couldn't help letting out a 'holy fucking shit'. I wafted my hand in front of my face to attempt to disperse the smell and turned my head away.

After a moment I was able to regain a small amount of composure and looked back at my young customer who was looking rather sheepish and completely embarrassed.

I stammered, "oh I'm so sorry, I was just rather shocked. I really wasn't expecting that... "

Avril looked down at the floor and spoke in a soft and embarrassed voice. It was almost as if I'd been telling her off.

She apologised "do you know the worst part of it, that smell is not even from me. It fucking Clara. She buys brand new trainers and then wears them herself until they are tatty and stink and then she claims that the wore-out, lived-in look is part of my image. She basically gets new clothes, that I fucking pay for, and then when she's bored with them gives them to me and my fucking manager buys all her bullshit that its part of my, so-called, EMO image. Its utter fucking nonsense".

I managed an "oh fuck" but Avril continued, cutting me off.

"No fucking joke, I've only had those conserves for about a week, and they smelled like that when I got them. And now I'm the fucking idiot that's fucking embarrassed when I have to take them off. No wonder I can't get a fucking boyfriend."

I waited to make sure she finished and then offered, "Thats terrible. Us 'normal people' think that you celebs have it all made. Like you're living the dream".

She smiled in a sad kid way and said. "Oh yeah, living the fucking dream, I am".

"OK" I offered, "Lets get rid of these fucking things then, yeah?" I picked up the old Converse (very carefully) and walked them straight out the to the back storeroom and dropped them into the garbage shoot which (I knew) dropped nearly two stories and into the refuge tanks outside the rear of the store.

As I made my way back through the storeroom and onto the shop floor, my mind started to build a plan on making this strange and rare situation a little more interesting.

By the time I got back to Avril, the smell had already started to dissipate.

As I came back to her I suggested in a light and breezy voice, "right, those trainers are dead and we'll never see them again. I can grab you some new socks and we have a staff bathroom out the back, if you would like to freshen up, maybe wash your feet, and then maybe we can start again?" I used an upward inflection in my tone so that I sounded as though I was offering a favour rather than making a suggestion.

To my delight and surprise, she answered with "actually, that would be great. Thanks".

I led her to the back of the store and through the stockroom doors towards the staff bathroom. I told her to take all the time she needed and that I would wait for her back in the shop. I told her that I'd take advantage of the time and that I had to call head office. This was a lie.

As soon as she opened the door I turned and started walking back through the storeroom toward the shop. The second I heard the bathroom door close, I took off at full speed. I sprinted through the swing doors back into the shop. I ran at full pelt straight to the front of the shop and doubled back up the customers stairs. I bounded up two steps at a time. As I hit the top step I doubled down and flew as fast as my legs would carry me through the upstairs. Through the young adult's section and through the kid's section until I screeched to a halt at (what we called) the 'top door'. I gently pushed open the door which was marked 'Staff Only' and quietly, but swiftly, made my way down the metal back staircase in the pitched dark. The stairs had no handrails and were technically for emergency use only but I knew that they held a special secret.

As I reach the halfway landing where the stairs doubled-back I stopped and quietly lowered myself onto the floor, so that I was laying on my stomach. I snake-wriggled forwards and with my face pressed almost against the inner wall I had a perfect view through the bathroom air vent where I hoped to be able to see Avril washing her feet.

My heart was pounding in my chest in anticipation and I was thinking how grateful I was that my store manager insisted on keeping the staff bathroom so tidy and nicely stocked. The truth was that the store manager was the only person that used the bathroom as she rode her bike to and from work each day and would often shower before she started her shift. Because of this she had banned the rest of us from using the bathroom. She kept her towels heated folded and lots of little niceties that women like to keep inn their bathrooms to have them clean and fresh.

At first glance, I couldn't see Avril and I had a moment's panic that maybe she had left the bathroom in the 60 seconds that it had taken me to get into my position. I was, however, quickly reassured as I heard the soft trickle of water and my eyes stretch wide and my mind raced as the realisation dawned upon me that I was listening to Avril Lavigne take a piss. I almost laughed.

The toilet was the only part of the room that couldn't be seen through the vent as it was directly below the viewpoint. I heard a few little movements and then the sound of the toilet roll holder moving. Then a little break and the toilet roll spinning again in its holder as Avril was evidently giving herself a little wipe. (Even though I could see anything, I found that fucking exciting).

A moment later I saw the top of her head come into view as she stood from the seat and she turned and pressured the flush. I knew that she could not see me through the vent, I had checked from both sides many times, but nonetheless, I panicked a little thinking she might see me if she looked up.

I couldn't quite see but I assumed that she was adjusting herself and pulling up her underwear.

She stepped forward towards the middle of the room and into my full view. I watched her check the door, making sure that it was locked and then knelt forwards and began to pull each of her socks free from her feet.

What she did next, almost made me laugh again as she raised the socks to her nose, as if to check just how bad they were, and instantly choked and spat into the sink. She turned with the socks and opened the ladies hygiene bin and dumped the socks inside.

I was now looking at Avril Lavigne, stood barefoot and bare-legged in my works staff bathroom. Her hockey skirt only covered approximately a third of her thighs and looked very short without the long socks to conceal the otherwise large amount of, now exposed, skin.

She had her toenails painted in black and although I already knew that they would smell pretty rank, there was no question, that she had beautiful shapely legs and pretty, well-manicured feet.

I was intrigued to see what she would do next. She might attempt to wash her feet using the little sink, but to my delight, she decided on the shower instead.

She took a moment to puzzle how she might complete her task but to my delight again, and after checking for the third time that the door was definitely locked, I watched her pull her top and sports bra up and over her head in one motion. Her taut firm breast bounced into my view and as I drew in the sight of her exceptional pink little nipples I felt my cock swelling in my jeans. Her breasts were firm and youthful and sat outright on her chest with no droop or overhang. They were perky and full and her left nipple had a piercing that consisted of a silver bar and had a little blue stone on either end.

Next, she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, and again, in one motion, she slid her skirt and underwear down over her thighs and dropped them to the floor.

As she stood back up I burned my eyes into her perfectly smooth, shaved pussy. I was impressed to see that she had exceptionally puffy pussy lips which were very full and protruding. I guess that I hadn't really 'imaged' Avril's vagina before but now that I was seeing it I would describe it as full or meaty, or even beefy. Her lips hung lower that I was used to and were parted open even when she was stood normally.

She pulled a towel from the little rack and dropped it onto the floor infant of the shower cubicle and then opened the door. She quickly hopped into the shower and closed the frosted door behind her. I watched closely as I could see movement behind the door. I could see her bending and moving as was using the soap to wash her legs and feet but in truth, the frosted glass meant that I couldn't see anything move than blurred movement.

After a few moments the water turned off and I watch this absolute beauty step out of the shower. Dripping wet and shimmering in the bright bathroom lights. She had even washed her hair which was now laying wet and flat against her shoulders.

She reached for another towel and bent forwards to make a wrap on her head to dry her hair. She was facing away from me and as she bent over I could drink in her tight shapely backside and again her impressively puffy and full pussy lips. I could help but lick my lips as I imaged sucking them deep into my mouth.

As she took the second towel and began to wipe it over her sexy body I knew that I needed to retreat from my hiding place. I knew that I had to be back on the shop floor and I would need to have composed myself by the time she re-emerged.

Softly and slowly I drew myself up and I silently climbed back up the mental stairs and exited through the top-door into the kids department. I swiftly moved back through the upstairs departments and again, bounded back down the stairs.

Once I was back in the shop I took a few minutes to focus on something else, attempting to distract blood away from my engorged cock.

Avril actually took a surprising amount of time to reappear but as she did I could not help but feel an immense amount of yearning and attraction toward her. Watching this sexy, beautiful creature glide across my shop with her barefoot and slender legs, wearing only a tank top and hockey skirt, she truly was one of the sexist images I'd ever seen.

"Feel better?" I asked with a big smile. "Yes thank you, so much better. That was just embarrassing before" she answered with a warm but still slightly embarrassed smile.

I used my arm to signal to her to come and sit back in the centre of this store so that I could measure her feet. She followed my direction and took a seat and I knelt gently in front of her.

My mind was swimming. As I lifted this beautiful young creature's foot and placed it softly in the measuring device. I had to remain calm even though my heart was beating so very hard in my chest. Her pretty little feet with the black painted toenails now smelt like soap.

I had played this game many times before, I knew exactly how to lift her leg so that her foot could rest in the measuring device whilst carefully opening and parting her legs so that I could very carefully and very discreetly look up her skirt. I was almost a professional at this. I would be lying if I said that I was bored of doing this but nonetheless I have done it so many times that even when I noticed a young lady was not wearing any underwear (which is more often than you might think) I was able to remain calm and not react. One of the other guys in the store owned a special watch which he had bought online which contained a very discreet covert camera that he used to take photos during this very special little performance. He and I would share stories and examples of when we'd done this. He'd sent me many pictures of many beautiful young ladies with little damp patches on their panties or better still no panties at all.

I could feel my cock growing in my jeans once again. Her soft beautiful foot was resting in my hand and as I used the measure I could very slowly and very carefully touch and caress her feet in such a way that I practiced so many times before. To her unsuspecting mind, all I was doing was gently maneuvering her foot to ensure I got the precise measurement. But I wasn't. Instead, I was gently touching and stroking her. Softly pressing her toes and running my fingers along the sides of her foot. All the time savouring the moment and fulfilling my fantasies.

Once I've measured her right foot I gently lifted it again and I placed it sensually back on the floor I then reached for her left foot and repeated the exercise once again I lifted her leg in such a way as to part her thighs and give me full visibility of her panties. I chatted away nonchalantly to her and asked her to look around at the selection of shoes that were displayed on every wall of the store. Again this was a standard line that I used. It meant that my muse was distracted and busy rather than watching me and noticing that maybe I was lifting her foot a little higher or a little wider than might be actually required and that my seemingly innocent movements of her foot were also moving the leg which opened her thighs and in turn was exposing their most intimate areas to my eager eyes.

After a few more moments of indulgence of my pleasure, I again lifted her foot and placed it softly back on the floor.

"Ok," I announced cheerfully, "You're a US size 5 and that means that we will have pretty much anything you see available in your size".

Avril smiled her warm smile at me again and stood up. She stepped past me, in fact, she stepped almost over me, as I was still kneeling at her feet. She stepped over my knees and almost brushed her skirt against my face as she moved toward the wall and picked up a rather garish pair of Nike Air Max.