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After several minutes with no laughter or tossed insults from the woman, I felt safe again. My embarrassment waned and I felt secure enough to try a sneaky peek back at her feet. Before doing so, however, I decided to turn my head barely enough to strain my eyes to the right and see her face, to be sure her eyes weren't looking in my direction. When I saw that she appeared to be focusing once again on her meal, I felt secure enough to once again admire her feet. When I slowly aimed my dilated pupils downward, the scene was quite different. The woman was once again wearing her shoes....or rather I should say she was wearing her left shoe. Her legs were now crossed, right over left, and her right shoe was dangling hypnotically from the end of her toes. It was almost as if that shoe dangled from the very tip of the toenail of her great toe. I was amazed it could remain dangling at all, and not fall with a clatter (or clunk) to the floor. It seemed to defy the laws of gravity and physics. Alas...it couldn't defy gravity forever. I watched as the shoe, seemingly in slow motion, finally released its tenuous grip on the tip of that toe and fell to the floor. So mesmerized was I that I never heard the clunk this time. I simply stared in awe at the gorgeous, stocking covered toes that had just dismissed the shoe. The stocking was so sheer that even where it was reinforced at the heel and toes I could easily see through it...an almost nonexistent, delightfully gossamer shading of her pretty foot. And joining that reinforced toe and heel of the stocking was a reinforced strip, maybe a half inch wide, that ran from toes to heel, directly down the middle of the sole. My eyes feasted on that hose in such minute detail that it seemed I could pick out every single criss- cross of the nylon weave, and my vision could burrow between them to the soft flesh beneath. Sexy stockings for a very sexy foot, I thought. And just as I could feel my face smiling, a cold chill ran down my spine. I realized, shuddering, that I'd once again been staring. Fear of being caught sent dribbles of sweat down my back and neck. Afraid to make even the slightest movement, I took a deep breath and prepared to slowly turn around to once again face my burger. My hope was that a lack of sudden movement on my part would prevent the woman's eyes from being drawn in my direction, and I could avoid any embarrassing attention.