Though Joe knew he had no way to determine whether he was making the correct assumption or not, he tended to believe that the heels were handmade and ...hat the shoemaker, if indeed there had been one, was a top-notch artisan. Interestingly enough, lending support to Joe's supposition, the heels bore no sign of a manufacturer's logo or, for that matter, any discernable marking that would serve to indicate what size they were. There was one thing that was obvious. The heels were small, sized to. She was hot on my arms as we entered the restaurant andshe knew it. As the waiter was leading us to our tableshe had a big smile for every one. I could see all thepatrons were looking at her, some of them returning hersmile. We did not even get to our table and she hadalready been flirting with the waiter which was out ofcharacter for her.After the meal we went over to the bar to have a fewdrinks. Soon she started to chat with a couple of guysas I was not even there. The body language was hot. They crouched low to the ground, their furry, paw-like feet silent in the snow. Schaffer did his best to stay quiet, his furry boots did a fair job of it. They were in a forest, or at least what had once been a forest. There was less snow on the ground here, and he was able to walk without sinking. The trees looked gnarled and dead to him, their bare branches creating a tightly knit canopy above their heads like a mesh of bony fingers.There were six hunters, not including Zagza who headed the. Soon she wet her fingers in the water and began to run them up and down her slit while smiling and moaning a bit. Then her clit emerged from its hiding place and she grasped it between two fingers as she began to moan louder. She fucked her clit with her fingers as if it were a small dick that she was jacking off until she reached the point of no return, bucked wildly nearly falling off of her air mattress, had an enormous orgasm, and squirted joy juice like a whale spurting, or a volcano.