They were coworkers. She was stern, inflexible, and known behind her back as the enforcer. Fellow teachers threatened to send their students to her when their kids were acting out. It was clear that she was good at what she did, but was there any joy in it? He wondered that as kids followed her every direction, rushed to turn in her work, and did what they could to gain her approval. How did she manage that? He admired her and kind of disliked her at the same time. Seemed she didn't care if she was disliked, though. He was the direct opposite.
She often watched him out the corner of her eye and marveled at his boisterous ease. The students and teachers confided in him. He was the jokester, the trickster. He loved to make everyone around him laugh, and she could tell that he needed to just as sure as his lungs needed oxygen to breathe. He wasn't some hack, though. His kids learned and loved while they enjoyed coming to his class. There was always a crowd around him hanging on his every word. He was surrounded by chaos and smiles. She admired him, but hated how everything seemed unorganized and on the verge of disaster. He could stand to acquire a dose of discipline.
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It was late October; it was late period. The sun had long since slipped down below the horizon. The sky was an inky black smeared with even blacker smoky clouds. The moon had not yet made an appearance, so the one streetlight in the teachers' parking lot struggled to cast out the shadows with a weak beam of light. Both teachers had been working. It was her norm. He had waited until the last minute to grade a humongous stack of papers. He'd rather hand out A's like he handed out high-fives. They had exited opposite doors, but converged onto adjacent spaces.
He was empty handed as always. She was loaded down with bags of essays, laptops, and whatever witchcraft she carried to get the students to behave.
"Spell books?" he grinned to himself in the darkness. As she tried to juggle the mass of objects to grasp the keys around her neck, she lost her balance. Reaching for her was instinct. He caught one bag and accidently wrapped his other hand around her side. He squeezed to steady her.
"Oh Ho Ho!" she exclaimed and leapt away nearly slamming into the car.
She dropped everything, but he barely noticed. Was that a giggle? Was she smiling?
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."
"Thank you! You saved my laptops"
They spoke simultaneously. She was still smiling and holding her side. He knew it was dark, and he knew he shouldn't be able to tell against her beautiful dark skin, but he could swear that she was blushing.
"Wait a minute!"
"What just happened?" she thought.
She could not look him in the eye. She knew he was trying to help, but he nearly caused her to plow into the car head first when he grabbed her by the ribs. And she knew it was an accident, but it tickled so badly that she dropped everything else straight to the ground. And why was he grinning at her like that? His goofiness was infuriating!
She spun away from him and opened the door of her white SUV.
"Let me help you!"
He spun into action as they both leaned and grabbed the items that had scattered to the ground. Every time she peeked at him, he had that same smile like he knew some secret.
"What?" she finally asked because she couldn't help it.
"Mrs. Westerly..." He paused and grinned wider.
"What Mr. Ricks?" Her sigh made his grin grow even bigger.
"You're ticklish!"
"Whaaattt?" Her voice got breathy, and her eyes were large saucers.
"Oh! She's scared!" he thought. "She's hella ticklish."
"You're ticklish! I mean... It was an accident. I promise I was just trying to help you, but you nearly ran from me."
"I did not! You're imagining things in the dark! Give me that!" she reached to snatch her book out of his hand. He lifted it high above his head.
"Give it!"
"Admit it!"
She was tall, no doubt, but she wasn't taller than he was. No way she would be able to get it from him. He 100% planned to drop the book and tickle the hell out of this frowny, stern-ass mega teacher, and he could barely wait. And just as she reached toward him, she shocked him! She leaned low and grabbed him by HIS ribs. His reaction was explosive. And it wasn't because she squeezed! Her damn nails scrambled up and down his sides so quickly that he dropped the book and failed to catch her hands to make the incessant tickling stop.
He gasped, failed to stop her again, squealed and attempted to run. She wrapped her hand around his wrist.
"Wait!" he laughed, "I'm sorry!"
"Oh no! It's too late for that now! You were saying?"
"N-Nothing! It was a mistake!" he howled as one of her hands made its way into his armpit. "Stoooooooooop!" he screeched!
He finally caught both of her hands. He was gasping and giggling. She was gasping and giggling too.
She laughed at the utter shock in his eyes and felt a warmth start to spread throughout her body. The look in his eyes started to shift, though. She could spot his urge for revenge immediately!
"No! Don't!" she begged while attempting to yank away and run to her car.
She was surprised when he let her go. But when she reached for the driver's door, he sprinted after her. The back door was already open, so she jumped in and tried to close it behind her. She didn't make it. He was in the back seat and his hands were everywhere.
She had always been insanely ticklish, but the sensations his hands were piling on to her wriggling body made her go straight into silent laughter. When she was finally able to suck in a deep breath, she instantly started begging!
"No! I can't take it! I can't take it!"
His hands were wiggling up her ribs, and he was trying his best to get under her arms, but she was strong and fighting him every step of the way. She was determined, but so was he! He changed tactics and squeezed her hips and thighs. Her laugh was like music; loud, desperate, and melodic. She reached down to protect her legs with one hand, and that other damn hand went back into his armpit.
He was on top of her laughing and tickling with all of his might, and she was doing the same. Neither of them wanted to give the other the upper hand. Both of them were in near tears as they continued to find some of the worst spots on each other.
"Not there!" She had curled her fingers around to the back of his knees, a weak spot that he didn't think anyone would ever know about.
"Please! Please! Please! Please!" she squawked like a high pitched parrot and tried to hunch over to protect her tender neck. She was laughing harder than he had ever seen anyone laugh.
God! She was so cute and so ticklish! He could just kiss her. And he did. She was still giggling at first, but as his parted lips grew more urgent, the giggling subsided. They both moaned as they simultaneously reached their hands around to the others backs and pressed each other close.
Neither wanted to stop, but they did.
She smiled, "Wait."
"Not here!" Again, they spoke at the same time.
They untangled their limbs while sneaking little tickles here and there. He helped her out of the back seat. They kissed again, and he opened the driver's door.
"So...." He trailed off.
"I love being tickled, Mr. Ricks."
It was his turn to blush. "So do I, Mrs. Westerly."
"Well... we both have a secret, then."
"Yes, we do. You working late tomorrow night?" he asked her slyly.
"I am, but I think I'll work from home. Care to join me?"
"Count on it!" He closed her door and watched her until she waved and drove off.
"Who knew!" he whispered.
"Woooooo" a lonely owl answered in the distance. He smiled again and drove away into the night just as the moon began to light up the black sky.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Read part 2 of The Secret HERE!
She often watched him out the corner of her eye and marveled at his boisterous ease. The students and teachers confided in him. He was the jokester, the trickster. He loved to make everyone around him laugh, and she could tell that he needed to just as sure as his lungs needed oxygen to breathe. He wasn't some hack, though. His kids learned and loved while they enjoyed coming to his class. There was always a crowd around him hanging on his every word. He was surrounded by chaos and smiles. She admired him, but hated how everything seemed unorganized and on the verge of disaster. He could stand to acquire a dose of discipline.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was late October; it was late period. The sun had long since slipped down below the horizon. The sky was an inky black smeared with even blacker smoky clouds. The moon had not yet made an appearance, so the one streetlight in the teachers' parking lot struggled to cast out the shadows with a weak beam of light. Both teachers had been working. It was her norm. He had waited until the last minute to grade a humongous stack of papers. He'd rather hand out A's like he handed out high-fives. They had exited opposite doors, but converged onto adjacent spaces.
He was empty handed as always. She was loaded down with bags of essays, laptops, and whatever witchcraft she carried to get the students to behave.
"Spell books?" he grinned to himself in the darkness. As she tried to juggle the mass of objects to grasp the keys around her neck, she lost her balance. Reaching for her was instinct. He caught one bag and accidently wrapped his other hand around her side. He squeezed to steady her.
"Oh Ho Ho!" she exclaimed and leapt away nearly slamming into the car.
She dropped everything, but he barely noticed. Was that a giggle? Was she smiling?
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."
"Thank you! You saved my laptops"
They spoke simultaneously. She was still smiling and holding her side. He knew it was dark, and he knew he shouldn't be able to tell against her beautiful dark skin, but he could swear that she was blushing.
"Wait a minute!"
"What just happened?" she thought.
She could not look him in the eye. She knew he was trying to help, but he nearly caused her to plow into the car head first when he grabbed her by the ribs. And she knew it was an accident, but it tickled so badly that she dropped everything else straight to the ground. And why was he grinning at her like that? His goofiness was infuriating!
She spun away from him and opened the door of her white SUV.
"Let me help you!"
He spun into action as they both leaned and grabbed the items that had scattered to the ground. Every time she peeked at him, he had that same smile like he knew some secret.
"What?" she finally asked because she couldn't help it.
"Mrs. Westerly..." He paused and grinned wider.
"What Mr. Ricks?" Her sigh made his grin grow even bigger.
"You're ticklish!"
"Whaaattt?" Her voice got breathy, and her eyes were large saucers.
"Oh! She's scared!" he thought. "She's hella ticklish."
"You're ticklish! I mean... It was an accident. I promise I was just trying to help you, but you nearly ran from me."
"I did not! You're imagining things in the dark! Give me that!" she reached to snatch her book out of his hand. He lifted it high above his head.
"Give it!"
"Admit it!"
She was tall, no doubt, but she wasn't taller than he was. No way she would be able to get it from him. He 100% planned to drop the book and tickle the hell out of this frowny, stern-ass mega teacher, and he could barely wait. And just as she reached toward him, she shocked him! She leaned low and grabbed him by HIS ribs. His reaction was explosive. And it wasn't because she squeezed! Her damn nails scrambled up and down his sides so quickly that he dropped the book and failed to catch her hands to make the incessant tickling stop.
He gasped, failed to stop her again, squealed and attempted to run. She wrapped her hand around his wrist.
"Wait!" he laughed, "I'm sorry!"
"Oh no! It's too late for that now! You were saying?"
"N-Nothing! It was a mistake!" he howled as one of her hands made its way into his armpit. "Stoooooooooop!" he screeched!
He finally caught both of her hands. He was gasping and giggling. She was gasping and giggling too.
She laughed at the utter shock in his eyes and felt a warmth start to spread throughout her body. The look in his eyes started to shift, though. She could spot his urge for revenge immediately!
"No! Don't!" she begged while attempting to yank away and run to her car.
She was surprised when he let her go. But when she reached for the driver's door, he sprinted after her. The back door was already open, so she jumped in and tried to close it behind her. She didn't make it. He was in the back seat and his hands were everywhere.
She had always been insanely ticklish, but the sensations his hands were piling on to her wriggling body made her go straight into silent laughter. When she was finally able to suck in a deep breath, she instantly started begging!
"No! I can't take it! I can't take it!"
His hands were wiggling up her ribs, and he was trying his best to get under her arms, but she was strong and fighting him every step of the way. She was determined, but so was he! He changed tactics and squeezed her hips and thighs. Her laugh was like music; loud, desperate, and melodic. She reached down to protect her legs with one hand, and that other damn hand went back into his armpit.
He was on top of her laughing and tickling with all of his might, and she was doing the same. Neither of them wanted to give the other the upper hand. Both of them were in near tears as they continued to find some of the worst spots on each other.
"Not there!" She had curled her fingers around to the back of his knees, a weak spot that he didn't think anyone would ever know about.
"Please! Please! Please! Please!" she squawked like a high pitched parrot and tried to hunch over to protect her tender neck. She was laughing harder than he had ever seen anyone laugh.
God! She was so cute and so ticklish! He could just kiss her. And he did. She was still giggling at first, but as his parted lips grew more urgent, the giggling subsided. They both moaned as they simultaneously reached their hands around to the others backs and pressed each other close.
Neither wanted to stop, but they did.
She smiled, "Wait."
"Not here!" Again, they spoke at the same time.
They untangled their limbs while sneaking little tickles here and there. He helped her out of the back seat. They kissed again, and he opened the driver's door.
"So...." He trailed off.
"I love being tickled, Mr. Ricks."
It was his turn to blush. "So do I, Mrs. Westerly."
"Well... we both have a secret, then."
"Yes, we do. You working late tomorrow night?" he asked her slyly.
"I am, but I think I'll work from home. Care to join me?"
"Count on it!" He closed her door and watched her until she waved and drove off.
"Who knew!" he whispered.
"Woooooo" a lonely owl answered in the distance. He smiled again and drove away into the night just as the moon began to light up the black sky.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Read part 2 of The Secret HERE!
