Detention & Ms. G's Feet
(Published on Sunday, September 6, 2002)
This story was submitted anonymously.

As I remember it, Ms. G only wore stockings and her shoes always slipped off of her feet when she sat on her chair or on the top of the desk in the front of our classroom when she taught to us about earth science. She was only 27, has short blond hair and was very pretty!  Rumor always had it she was an item with the gym teacher Mr. Scott.

At ten years old, I sat in the front row of class with my head on the desk staring longingly at those silky legs and feet, fantasying about being able to touch them. I don’t think Ms. G actually liked wearing her shoes, because on more than one occasion she would walk around the classroom only wearing her stocking feet, and she was always dangling her shoes off of the ends of her toes. I know that some years later my imagination may be better than what I actually saw, but Ms. G had perfect feet. Her arches were high and her legs were very shapely. I couldn’t pay attention to a damn thing in that class!

I was a terrible student, always getting into trouble. If I had been diagnosed in today’s classroom, I’m sure they would have said I had attention deficit disorder, because I couldn’t pay attention to anything, and was just an all around horrible student. Ms. G was my favorite teacher, and I always thought she liked me because she always took extra time to explain things to me. Of course, now I realize she only did that because I was such a moron in class. But I was really surprised one day when she gave me detention!  She actually raised her voice to me for the first time since I had known her that whole year. I guess I finally got on her nerves, or maybe it had something to do with that girl’s hair I was pulling during recess…I’m not sure. Anyway, she told me I had to stay after school the next day as my punishment.

My parent’s were pissed. So the next day, after school, I had to stay in class while my buddies all left to go home and play. That sucked. Or did it? Ms. G’s idea of detention that day was for me to copy the dictionary while she did work. Sound’s like fun huh? The cool thing was Ms. G had my desk pulled next to her desk so that she could keep an eye on me as I suffered. While Mr. Webster was passing on his knowledge of the English language to me, Ms. G graded papers and hummed quietly. Needless to say I was bored out of my skull and my mind and eyes started to wander.

Without much effort my eyes started to travel over to my favorite subject, Ms. G’s legs and feet. On this day, however, I could not see Ms G’s legs as she was wearing kaki dress pants, a white blouse, tan stockings and white shoes (low cut heals?  I don’t know ... female shoes).  Her left leg was crossed over her right and her left foot was only a few feet from my desk. Being that my desk was slightly lower than hers, I was in a perfect position that if I leaned over and reached out just a little bit, I could brush her foot “by accident” if I wanted to. Hey, now that’s an idea!

My little heart started to pound as the idea of reaching over and touching Ms. G’s foot entered my mind. Ms. G’s shoe was hanging just off enough from her foot that you could see a small portion of her beautiful arch. For more than five minutes I sat there just staring at that part of her foot just trying to come up with a way that I could touch it. Just a quick touch, maybe even a tickle.

The more I stared, the more I go worked up and I just had to do something. Before I knew it, I was reaching over with my right hand and just at that moment Ms. G looked directly at me and said, “Are you doing your work?” Ironically, she looked at me with a smile and if I’m not just distorting my memory, I think she actually giggled a bit. My hand was still pretty close to her foot, but I had backed off a bit.

Well, I was really frustrated AND bored at this point. As I always fidgeted, like someone with ADD would do, I started to tear off little pieces of paper and roll them into little balls. For some strange and very impulsive reason, I took one of these balls of paper and reached over and dropped one of them in the space between Ms. G’s arch and her shoe. I happened to brush her foot while I did this.

Ms. G reacted by looking at me and saying, “Hey, why did you do that?!”

Oh crap what had I just done! But to my surprise, Ms. G wasn’t angry and stated to pull her shoe off while grinning broadly at me. As she pulled her shoe off to find the piece of paper, I made a bold move, and reached over and started to tickle the bottoms her nylon foot like. It was beyond exciting, but I was scared, not really thinking, just acting. Her nylon foot felt like silk when I lightly stroked the arch with my fingertips.

I must have caught Ms. G completely by surprise, because at first she didn’t react, but then started to giggle a bit. I pulled my fingers away very quickly, completely scared out of my mind, but oh so very excited by what I just pulled off. Ms. G just look at me at this point with a suspicious grin on her face.

Now, I don’t know if she actually invited me to keep ticking her foot by her body language, but I took a quick look up her, and went for it again, with just a little more boldness. I ran my fingers all along her arch tickling quickly, hoping this wouldn’t end.  Ms. G laughed. Oh, she had a great laugh! She had one of those sweet giggles where she never opened her mouth, but grinned broadly showing all her perfect white teeth.  It was great.

I traced my finger under arch and was in complete nirvana, trying to get away with as much tickling as I possibly could before it all came to end, as I knew it probably would shortly. And just as spontaneously as it began, it ended. Ms G abruptly pulled her foot away and slipped it back into her shoe that was now sitting on the floor.

Sheepishly, I looked up at Ms G hoping she wouldn’t be angry. To my relief, she looked down at me with a smile on her face and said, “Now that’s enough of that! You need to finish your detention.”

Well, there was only fifteen minutes left anyway. My dad eventually came and picked me up, and I left a very happy man.

The rest of the year past and I never forgot my experience with her, but I never did get a chance to tickle Ms. G’s feet ever again. One day, however, she did catch me looking at her feet on the recess yard and said to me, “I know what you are thinking about.”

I was dumbfounded and very embarrassed, but also very turned on.