Cameron nodded, looking from his mother to his teacher. What was the meaning of this? He knew his mother was aware of his crush on Ms. Heather, since she’d teased him about it this very morning, but surely there was no way that was the reason why the woman had shown up for coffee?

            “Why don’t you take a seat?” Brianna said. “There’s plenty of room on this sofa over here, where you can reach the refreshments, if you like.”

            “Don’t mind if I do! Thank you.”

            “Anyway, like I was telling you over the phone…” Brianna continued, once Ms. Heather was seated. “…Cameron always greatly admired you as a teacher, and from our parent-teacher conferences a few years ago, you always had such sweet things to say about my son. Well, now that Cameron has reached a new stage of life, so to speak, I thought it would be just lovely if we had you over!”

            She patted her son’s head, indicating for him to drop back to his knees in front of the couch. Cameron obeyed, hoping to become invisible; his cheeks burned hot with embarrassment that his favorite teacher was seeing him in this state. Despite the oddity of this scene, Ms. Heather was polite enough to only look to Brianna while she spoke.

            “Well, I’m glad you did. I miss seeing Cameron in class,” Ms. Heather said, and at last addressed her former student. She cutely wrinkled her nose at him, then reached out, cupping his cheek in her palm. “Did you miss me?”

            “Y-Yea…” Cameron mumbled. He was caught somewhere between elation at the feeling of his gorgeous teacher’s hand on his face, and the soul-crushing humiliation of this whole scenario.

            “Cameron’s just a little caught off-guard today, I imagine,” Brianna laughed. “Especially when you realize how many years he had a crush on you, Ms. Heather. In fact, who’s to say he doesn’t still?”

            The boy froze in place, though his teacher’s hand didn’t leave his cheek. Cameron’s stomach was roiling. Yet the visitor smiled, if not in a piteously demeaning humor. Ms. Heather chuckled.

            “I always had my suspicions, of course,” she said. Ms. Heather crossed her nylon-encased leg, so that her foot in its black flat bobbed just below Cameron’s chin. “What with all the time you spent in class staring at my feet instead of paying attention to the lessons.”

            Unveiled, and feeling more naked than ever, Cameron wanted to curl up into himself now and make this shameful wet-nightmare go away. Still, he was too transfixed by the sight of his teacher’s glorious foot hovering just in front of him, close enough to see the flickering shine of her pantyhose when she flexed. Indeed, he’d spent most days of class gawking at those stunning peds: whether they were being arched back at the blackboard, dangled under a desk, or simply sauntering around the room.

            “He looks a little surprised, doesn’t he?” Brianna laughed.

            “Just a bit,” Ms. Heather agreed.

            “I’m sure that’ll make things much more entertaining,” the mother replied, then looked her son in the eye. “Cameron, dear, I thought it might be nice if you had a little one-on-one time with your old crush, just to get reacquainted. I’m going to take care of a couple things in the other room. Be polite, honey. Don’t embarrass me, please.”

            Brianna departed, leaving her son alone on his knees in front of his English teacher, with all his scandalous secrets out in the open. Cameron had trouble meeting Ms. Heather’s gaze, but her fingers tucked under his chin, guiding him to look up at her again.

            “No need to be shy here, Cameron. You’d think after all this time, and all those days you spent longing for what you couldn’t have, you’d be more excited to see me.”

            “Sorry,” he gasped. It still seemed like a dream, that he was bowed before the luscious blonde educator. His boxers were already tightening again, though thankfully, he was hunched enough to partially conceal it. “It’s nice to see you.”

            “That’s better,” she said kindly. She raised an eyebrow as she glanced below his belt. “Maybe I spoke too soon. It seems you are excited to see me. You know, when your mother invited me over, and told me all about your situation, my intention was never to have fun at your expense. Granted, it sounded like you would be good to use for some fun, but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Just like I used to tell you and the rest of my students, how a situation turns out, good or bad, is always up to you. Do you remember?”

            Speechless, Cameron nodded.

            “Good. Now, be a nice boy, and take off my shoes.”

            The following minutes rolled by in a sensuous fog for Cameron. He plucked those black flats off, then at Ms. Heather’s instruction, sniffed the salty interior. Once they were set aside, he was next tasked with peeling off her sheer pantyhose and inhaling these, too. Cameron did so an inch at a time, rolling the fabric down her toned calves, over her rounded heels, under her soles, then off her wiggly toes. Every move he made played out exactly like his adolescent fantasies, except usually he didn’t feel so powerless and stripped of dignity in dreams; nevertheless, Cameron wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Ms. Heather watched all this with fascination, her chin resting on her hand.

            “Lie back, Cameron. Your mother seems to think very highly of your uses. Let’s get a look at them now, shall we?”

            Like a trained puppy, Cameron went prone. He watched, mouth-watering, as both of Ms. Heather’s newly nude feet descended over the sofa’s edge. One foot hovered over his face, coming to rest with her enviable sole right over his mouth. Even before he opened his lips, the boy could taste flowery lotion and odorous funk of her pantyhose-hugged skin. The other ped found a home on his hip, with her toes tapping mere inches away from his erection. Startled at the sudden intimacy of the woman’s approach, Cameron quickly learned to hold still and await a new lesson from his former teacher.

            Ms. Heather was a natural: not the doe-eyed foot-sex object Cameron might’ve dreamed her to be during his latent fantasies, but in fact a sure-minded, domineering demigoddess. She didn’t even have to ask him to open his mouth. Her toes grinding over his lips opened the way, and once his jaws were parted, Cameron soon had all of his teacher’s digits scraping across his tongue and massaging her oily toeprints into his palate. Her other foot settled comfortably against his erection, even flossing the taut boxer fabric between digits, until her foot could peek through the buttoned fly and stroke the meaty curve of her toe along the back of his manhood.

            “Go on, Cameron. Be a good host. You obviously didn’t amount to much based on the merits of your brain, so let’s see what the rest of you can manage,” Ms. Heather purred. She shoved her foot as deep as it go could into Cameron’s maw without gagging him. Her plump big toe flirted with his uvula. “Show me what you were thinking about every single hour of every single day you spent in my class.”