after work in group trips to the local pub, talking extensively at company parties, chats at the interstices of work. We went to a movie together, but I don't remember the film because I spent most of the time staring at her booted feet, which were perched on the seat in front of her.

Finally I made the big push. I invited her to see a movie with me. Not in the theater, but at home, on videotape. This was a gutsy move that could have led to disaster, and she is not the easiest person to deal with, but after she gave me the required amount of grief about it, she said yes.

I'd carefully selected Klute as the film to see (Jane Fonda in those thigh boots!). After the usual banter, we sat side by side on the couch, with the popcorn and beer before us, and watched the movie and gossiped.

In the post movie conversation, there was a delightful tingle of excitement. Would she leave? Does she want me to do something? Her booted feet were on the coffee table, and I had not been able to take my eyes off of her watch all night. My excitement was rich and deep with my body. Unable to resist, I did something impulsive. I leaned forward, and gave her a kiss. But to her surprise, it was not on her mouth, but on her boot.

*To be continued ...*

Jimmy Doyle is a former New York cop now living in Portland.

Normally I don't favor office romances. But when Sandy Klickitat began working for our company I had to reconsider my position.

Let me describe Sandy. She is about five foot five, with long brunette hair that has a hint of a red tint. She's an energetic, near-dominating personality, kind of a crazy girl, almost a force of nature.

Sandy was hard for me to resist because she embodied not one, but both of my fetishes. She's a wacky dresser, and you never know in what wild garb she's going to come to work. But she has two consistent motifs. One is boots. So far I have seen her in black short shaft motorcycle boots and in a pair of vintage brown fashion boots that have an air of the '70s about them.

She also likes big sports watches on her wrist. And she has three or four. Besides the usual digital sports watch, she has a large Seiko with a yellow face, and a big Swiss watch, both with thick black bands. She likes to wear a tight white ribbed sweater with sleeves that cling to her arms and go all the way to her wrists, where her big watch pokes out. I like this very much.

With this double whammy of only dreamt of fetishes staring me in the face every day, there was no way I could resist. I began to flirt with her, slowly, quietly, tentatively. But then she started dating another of her co-workers. I was disappointed, but that lasted only a few months. They broke up rather acrimoniously. So I reactivated my flirting. I'm not very good at it, but I hoped sincerity would matter. To my surprise we began to do a few things together, a beer here or there

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