Since Lucy and Josh started dating 3 weeks ago, everything had been going well. They were a very attractive couple, got on well, enjoyed a drink and a laugh, in bed they were both very physical and compatible. Both liked the other looking hot, Lucy had been quite controlling however as to what her previous boyfriends should wear, and had started applying this principle to Josh. She also didn't like him mixing with friends who were uncouth or ribald as some of his ex public school mates could be. On the sartorial front, although Josh as an Alpha male was mainly in charge, Lucy made a point of letting him know to be seen with her he had to look good. Therefore, in practice, she liked the 20 year old in crisp, cream shirts, smart jackets and sometimes even leather trousers. Jeans were also fine, providing smart and top branded. Josh was himself, vain and narcissistic, enjoying dressing up and admiring himself, especially when it pleased his partner and meant more fun in bed.
Josh, for his part liked Lucy in nice lingerie, heels and full make up, having been used to escorting glamorous young ladies, he expected this in a partner.
Lucy had taken a shine to her boyfriend wearing boots as we saw last time, the 2 pairs of cowboy boots he already owned were in constant use. Having been used to woo many a pretty blonde over the past year or so, as a result he was used to having a bit of extra height in his Cuban heels when dating girls.
The fact was Lucy was used to sporty, hunky rugby types, both to escort her and please her in bed. She certainly liked her men to be a bit taller than her. Vain and image conscious the 5'5 inch blonde often wore heels herself, favouring in particular racy, over the knee suede boots, meaning she was often the same height as her 5'6 inch boyfriend if even in a modest pair of 2 inch stilettoes.
Josh Harrington didn't quite measure up in the height department, an issue he'd had with other girlfriends, which had lead to him favouring wearing high heels when dating. Lucy encpuraged him in this, as a result much like a vain girl, the handsome, arrogant playboy often had sore, swollen feet after strutting around for a few hours in the nightspots of West London.
'Baby I was thinking, you wear your boots so much these days...maybe you could do with a new pair, why don't we go to that specialist store in the Kings Road? What do you think?'
'Sure, I guess these tan ones are getting a bit tatty' he replied.