Crush on Teacher (Fant. Story--CHAPTER 2-CONCLUSION) Thursday, 22-Jan-98 17:01:28

152.163.205.106 writes:

"She's telling them about me, I can just sense it," Mark thought. "She's saying, 'Look over there at the steps-- see the foot freak??!" He felt horrible. His secret was out. The bell rang. Time to head back in for class. Suddenly, out on the lawn, down near the road, a fight had broken out between two of the jocks. Mark and the other guys started taking bets on who'd get the worst of it. In fact, all the boys outside stood or sat still and watched to see how it would play out. All the girls began heading back into the building, a few of them were mumbling about how juvenile guys could be. They wanted no part of it. They came, en masse, and began crowding their way up the stairs. Mark and the other boys kept their places on the steps, making the women stumbling up past them grumble at the inconvenience. Mark had learned long ago that if he sat really still with his hands flat on the ground beside him, and his fingers spread out, near a group of women, once in a while one of them would step on his fingers. It was always "accidental," or so it seemed. Mark sat there, with the others, looking out at the ongoing slugfest, his fingers flat on the steps beside him. He was trying to ignore all the girls going by him up the steps. He got lucky a couple of times. One of the rougher girls in chunky heels almost flattened his pinky. Old Mrs. Pukehauser grazed his middle finger with the heel of her granny shoes, almost making Mark's erection shrivel and withdraw itself into his body out of revulsion. Then he saw out his peripheral vision the cheerleaders, followed by Mrs.Mosher. Even though the crowd of girls was thick as they ascended the steps, the cheerleaders came up the steps single file, close by Mark. Still keeping his eyes on the fight, he winced as the first cheerleader to reach his fingers stepped squarely on the back of his hand fullweight with her heel. As she continued up the steps the next cheerleader brought her heel down hard on his thumb and first finger. They weren't looking down at him-- they just kept their eyes on the people climbing the steps in front of them-- although he could've swore he heard a couple of them giggling. One by one the cheerleaders stomped, crushed, and ground all the fingers on Mark's one hand. So. . Mrs. Mosher DID squeal on me. Damnit! "Careful girls, careful! No pushing, you've got plenty of time." It was Mrs.Mosher, following up the group, herding them like chickens up the steps and into the building. When she got to the step with Mark's red, throbbing, scratched up hand, she stood squarely on all five fingers. As she kept barking orders to the ladies still climbing the stairs, Mark stole a glance down at his hand. Her whole foot was covering it. Even though she's about 5'7", she had to have size 9 feet. Mmm. Her tanned, sexy, red-polished toes were gripping the soles of her sandals as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Mark was about to rip through his jeans. He was literally aching. He studied her beautiful tanned feet, and couldn't believe such amazing hot woman, with such unbelievable gorgeous feet, was ruthlessly crushing his fingers, intending to cause him as much pain as she could. Under her weight, his fingers were starting to tingle and go numb. He liked the sensation. It really turned him on. The Vision then quietly squatted down to speak to Mark. As she squatted, all her weight immediately became focused on the balls of her feet, thereby focusing more weight on a smaller section of finger, causing Mark to almost scream. He could feel the grit on her soles being driven like nails into his fingers. "Time to start heading in, Mark." She purred. "By the way, I've got a biiiiig favor to ask. Is there anyway you could stay after school today? I'm reorganizing the closet in my classroom, and I could really use some help getting to those upper shelves. Would you mind?" "Oh, no, not at all, Mrs.Mosher," Mark gushed. "I'd be glad to help. Really I would. Yes, it's really no trouble at all! Yeah, that would be great!" Damn, he was overeacting again. Why do I do this, he wondered. She smiled at him, then whispered "See you later." With that she lifted her other foot up to the next step while grinding his fingers hard under the sole of the sandal still crushing his fingers. After she left, Mark sat there in shock. Without thinking, he lifted his skinned up fingers to his lips and began licking the grit and blood off them. "Hey, Sifford, wanna join us for a game of lazer tag after school." It was Cooper, the group's unofficial leader. "Uh, thanks man. Uh, no. Raincheck?" He smiled. "I've something else I've gotta do around here." "Yeah, whatever."

(I really hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed imagining it. More on Mrs.Mosher's afterschool closet cleaning in a couple of days.)

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