Tim's Ankles

I sometimes notice guys' ankles. In fact I have an early erotic memory about noticing a boy's ankles. His name was Timothy Adkins, and at 14, he was tall and willowy. We had study hall together in 8th grade. Most of the kids clustered together in small groups and socialized rather than focus on school work, and since the librarian wasn't particularly strict, the students did this openly without fear of punishment. On one warm spring day, Tim was visiting his group of friends in study hall, and he leaned back in his chair and propped up his long legs on a nearby table. Of course he attracted my attention immediately, and fortunately I was positioned so that I could observe him discreetly. He had on Levis and Nikes, but he wasn't wearing any socks. For the next few years, wearing sneakers without socks become something of a fad for young men, but in the spring of 1980, just a few months before we started high school, it was something new, and I was mesmerized by the sight of Tim's unexpectedly nude ankles. For twenty minutes, I sat there and stared. By the time the period was over, I was ready to swoon, and the image of Tim with his long legs stretched out with his ankles exposed was seared into my brain and became iconic for me. Tim was an average student and he didn't excel in athletics, but he was attractive and he had a lot of charm. He was laidback, made friends easily, and he usually greeted just about everybody with a warm smile that was ever so slightly mischievous and lewd. Sadly, he died four years later in a car accident just a couple of months before graduation. Even now I often think of Tim when I notice a guy's ankles.