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Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 01

By: coaster2



Author's Note: This story is situated in Canada and hence the different spelling and word choices. I hope it doesn't interfere with your enjoyment. It's the story of a man who has a hard time accepting good fortune.

As always, I am indebted to Erik Thread for his skillful, insightful and helpful editing.

Any errors are mine alone.

*

Chapter 1:

My name is Richard Campbell, but most of my friends call me Rick. Not Rich, and definitely not Dick! I have decided to write this story to explain what has happened to me in the past eight months. To put it succinctly, I have undergone a complete metamorphosis. I am not the innocent, inexperienced boy-man I was a short time ago. My life is not the same as it was eight months ago. My future is not the same as it might have been. It is far, far better. But it has not been without its difficult and frightening moments.

I am a high school history teacher. It's what I set out to become some seven years ago at the tender age of nineteen. Having just completed my freshman year at college, I was uncertain about my future. What changed all that was a tidy inheritance from my maternal grandmother.

Granny Eliza Cochran had passed away after a full life of self-education and travel. Widowed at a young age, she had a thirst for knowledge and adventure that she maintained her entire life. Even at age eighty, she would think nothing of trekking through the Tibetan mountains, or some arid wasteland in remote eastern Turkey. 

I'm sure I know why she chose me for this bequest. It was because I would listen for hours, enthralled with stories of her travels, continually interrupting to ask questions. She correctly believed I had inherited her love of exploration and the history that went with it. But what really confirmed my path to the future was my first journey.

She'd left me the better part of fifty thousand dollars with the explicit instructions I use the money only for travel during my summers off from school. She made it plain that she believed I would learn more in those two-plus months than I would during my entire year at college. She was right.

I am sure it was the intended consequence of her gift to sustain and enhance my interest in travel and history. She was very perceptive in that belief. From that very first summer in the eastern Mediterranean, I was hooked. 

I chose that region because it was the birthplace of western civilization. I made copious notes along the way which ultimately morphed into a journal of that first summer. It began in Athens, then on to Alexandria, Cairo, and Karnak before shifting to Mount Sinai. From there to Israel, the Greek islands, including Crete, Rhodes, and Patmos, with side trips to Istanbul and Ephesus, Turkey. A time-out back on the Greek mainland, and then to Italy. 

My head was swimming in history when I returned to North America. I couldn't put it all into perspective at first, but my notes were carefully organized in my laptop, and accompanied by hundreds of photos I took with my now-obsolete digital camera. I can't count the hours I sat daydreaming and reminiscing as I ran the slideshows of my pictures.

I knew when I returned to my sophomore classes in September that I wanted to become a history teacher. If I caught this "disease" so easily, I hoped I might cause it to be contagious to others. I immediately went about enrolling in courses that would lead to a degree in education, specifically history. 

I still had vivid, ugly memories of the history teachers I had endured through my high school years. In other circumstances, they might have driven out any interest I had in the subject. Too often, they were obsessed with dates and facts and names without any context of the times in which they took place. With the legacy of my grandmother, I was determined to put a stop to that. I might be a lone voice in the wilderness, but I would damn well try.

With my life-course now being decided, I carefully managed my economic resources to insure that I could take advantage of my grandmother's gift for at least the next three summers. My parents carefully put away money in my youth to provide for my post-secondary education, and since I was an only child, I got the full value of their thoughtful planning. So, with my financial obligations securely in hand, I dedicated myself to my future mission; spreading the word about the joy of history.

There was one side-effect to this dedication. I was single and not dating. I encountered several young women, both at high school and college, but the liaisons were fleeting and uneventful. I wasn't a virgin exactly, but I was close to it. Once I decided on my future, women became a secondary interest in my life. 

Now, just to make it plain, I'm a healthy, heterosexual male with the usual hormonal urges. I simply hadn't encountered a female that aroused my interest to the point where I wanted to become involved with her. She would either lack my enthusiasm for my chosen future, or had designs on a financial security that I likely wouldn't be able to accommodate.

I graduated magna cum laude in European history, with a very good grade in my minor -- economics. My final essay was written on the economic history of Europe, and I found the assignment relatively easy to do. My excellent grade was enhanced by the satisfaction I took in expressing my opinions on the topic. Those opinions didn't always conform to accepted convention, but I backed them up with reason and reference, hence the superior mark. Despite the urging of my professor, I had no intention of entering the Masters program.

After graduation, I spent the next two years traveling through Great Britain, Europe and the Middle East, with side trips to Australia. From the beginning, I found the secret of inexpensive travel as so many other students had. Hostels, hooking up with other groups willing to share rides and rooms, hitchhiking, and all the other low cost alternatives. As a result, I was easily able to stretch Granny Eliza's bequest the additional two years.

When I began to run short of money, I knew I should find work to support my passion. History teaching positions were not plentiful, so I took a job in a book store while I waited for my opportunity. That opportunity came the following year. 

I applied and was accepted at Georgia Straits High School in Little River, British Columbia. It was only a day's drive and a ferry ride from my home town, Vancouver, but it was a wonderful community set on Vancouver Island. Prosperous from tourism, retirement communities, and a nearby military base, it was an ideal place in which to begin my career. I reported for duty in early September with my recently minted teaching certificate and my union card in hand.

The school surprised me. It was relatively modern, and larger than I expected with over six hundred students and nearly fifty staff. My classes would be populated by an average of twenty-five students. I only hoped that I could develop enthusiasm for my favorite subject among at least a handful of those young minds. I had some experience with class management during my last two years of college thanks to the student-teacher program. I also had my own ideas of what I wanted to accomplish.

As a "rookie" teacher, I was given a greater share of some of the less desirable assignments. Monitoring the halls during the lunch period, detentions, chaperoning social events, and grounds clean-up detail. They weren't terribly onerous, but they were not what I was trained for. On the other hand, I knew it was an obligation that every new teacher would have to accept, so I mentally shrugged and got on with it.

My first months flew by. I developed somewhat of a flair for the dramatic in the classroom as I recounted the stories of the Minoans of Crete, comparing their accomplishments to the Pharaohs of Egypt. I tried to paint a picture of those times for my students, dispelling myth with facts. The pyramids were built with hired labour, not slaves as so many believed.

I was delighted that a number of my students responded positively to my enthusiasm. Often, my classes were accompanied by slide shows featuring the pictures I had taken, combined with others I downloaded from the internet. I wanted to make the class as interesting as possible and still get the lesson taught. After all, there was a curriculum to follow.

But to get to the meat of this story, I have to recount the events surrounding a party held just before the Christmas-New Years break. I didn't have any meaningful social contact with other teachers up to that point. I was too busy getting myself established in my profession. I expected I would find some personal time in the New Year.

It was a staff party and attendance was mandatory. Not that I wouldn't have gone anyway, but without a date I might have been a little less comfortable. Astrid solved that problem.

Astrid Rasmussen was an English teacher as well as a Physical Education instructor at our school. A Nordic beauty, she was about five-and-a-half feet tall, nicely rounded, particularly in front, with perfect posture. A fair complexion highlighted with a few freckles sprinkled on her cheeks. Her short, tightly curled blonde hair shimmers in the light. Oh, and electric blue eyes. She was, far and away, the most delectable young woman at the school. She was also considered untouchable by most of the single men at the school.

When I describe myself as ordinary, I mean I wasn't an athlete, nor did I think of myself as handsome. I was fit, however, thanks to all the walking I had done over the years, especially on my travels. I was just a shade over six feet and my features were fairly regular, my hair brown as are my eyes, so I suppose I wasn't ugly. I dressed fairly conservatively, but neatly. I was presentable, but not remarkable.

Then feature, if you can, my surprise when Astrid Rasmussen approached me a week before the staff party, asking a very leading question. 

"Rick ... are you taking someone to the Christmas party?" 

"Uh ... no ... no I'm not," I managed, wondering where this was leading. I didn't even think she knew my name until now.

"Excellent! Would you like to escort me?"

A plain and simple question, I thought.

"Uhhhmmm ... well ... yes ... I guess so," I mumbled.

"You don't seem too sure. Are you uncomfortable being seen with me?"

Cripes ... what kind of a question was that? Who was she kidding? Me ... going out with "Astrid the Ice Queen?"

"Um ... no ... certainly not. I mean ... what guy wouldn't want to be seen with you?" I stumbled.

She beamed. "Good. Pick me up at six. I'm sure we'll have a great time." 

With that her hand touched my cheek, she smiled again, spun on her heel, and left me standing with what I'm sure was a slack-jawed face.

It took me a few hours to absorb that I now had a date with the most desirable woman in the school, if not in all of Little River and the surrounding area. Of course, the question that recurred over and over again was ... why me?

"Simple. I think you're quite good looking, smart, polite, conscientious about your responsibilities, and, if I don't miss my guess, undamaged by other women." 

That was Astrid's answer when I got up the courage to ask her the next Monday in the staff room.

"Uhmmm ... Astrid ... you have your pick of any of several single guys here that have made it plain they would love to date you," I suggested, still wary of her motives.

"You don't have much confidence in yourself, do you Rick?"

"Well ... I admit ... I'm not very experienced when it comes to women."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. I'm not interested in some guy who thinks he's doing me a favor by asking me out. Or someone who's convinced that I'm going to go to bed with him just because he thinks he's entitled. I've had my fill of those types. I want someone unspoiled and someone I can ... teach." She said the last part with a devilish grin.

"Well, in that case, I guess I'm your guy," I admitted. The drawn-out teach mixed in with the rest of her comment didn't go unnoticed.

We were alone in the staff room at the time and we could talk without being overheard by our peers. There was nothing more revered in that environment than fresh gossip. I didn't care to be part of that. Astrid seemed oblivious to it. Perhaps because she was featured so prominently in the various rumours that circulated around the staff. The perils of being an attractive woman, I thought. I wondered about the "Ice Queen" label though.

When I arrived in Little River, I quickly learned it was not a location conducive to using buses or taxis as primary transportation. Luckily, I saved enough of the remaining travel money to allow the purchase of a modest, previously owned, late-model sedan. A medium-sized down payment, regular monthly payments for the next three years, and the shiny blue Taurus should be mine. Granny Eliza wouldn't have minded.

When I knocked on her apartment door the evening of the Christmas dance, I nearly had a panic attack. Standing before me was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most beautiful woman I had ever been with, live and in person. Forget the movie stars and fashion models. They couldn't hold a candle to Astrid. I just stood there with my mouth open, unable to say anything coherent.

She laughed, of course. I don't blame her. I must have looked like an oversized carp, gasping for breath. It took me a few seconds to recover even a smidgeon of composure.

"My god, Astrid. You look incredible," I blurted at last.

"Thank you Rick. You look very nice yourself. Just let me get my coat and we can go."

I was still partly in shock when I held the passenger door open for my date and closed it behind her. I was rewarded with a lovely smile and I felt my heart rate jump accordingly. I have to admit, I still couldn't come to terms with Astrid wanting me to be her date for this evening. I was determined to enjoy it, even if it was the only time I would have the opportunity. 

As we entered the hotel ballroom, I felt every head in the place turn and every eye fall upon us. Astrid was wearing an emerald green dress, strapless with very revealing cleavage. It fit her as if it were wrapped around her by hand. It ended just above her knees, and with a pair of matching heels, she was a vision designed to raise the blood pressure of any male, and maybe a few females. And she was with me!

We walked in and surveyed the surroundings. Astrid suggested a table we might join and I readily agreed. She chose one with three other couples, all married, and all older. I was immediately grateful. I would be more comfortable without the drooling of single men ogling her. Besides me, that is. 

Astrid is a woman of confidence. She can start and hold a conversation easily. She must have sensed my reluctance to engage early on, and she skillfully led the conversation to me. She somehow made the transition from polite chit-chat to encouraging me to talk about my travels. I didn't even know she knew about them.

I was surprised and it was a boost to my ego when my fellow teachers complimented me on my approach to my history classes. They had been hearing about my methods from other students, and they thought that I was very creative. I was beginning to relax. Astrid sat close to me, paying attention to the stories of my adventures. Two of the wives remarked at how they envied my ability to travel so much at a young age.

The meal was very nice, and I managed not to spill wine or choose the wrong fork. After dessert, the tables were cleared and a small five-piece band started to set up. Within a few minutes, they opened their first set and Astrid immediately indicated she wanted to dance. 

This was the moment of truth, as far as I was concerned. I made no bones about the fact that I wasn't a great dancer and the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass Astrid in front of everyone with my ineptitude. On the other hand, I had no intention of refusing her. Oh well, here goes nothing.

I was a little stiff to begin with, but the number wasn't too fast or too slow ... just sort of a nice medium pace. Holding Astrid was something amazing for a tenderfoot like me. So ... I did the smartest thing I could think of. I let her lead. 

This girl is one smart cookie. She sensed immediately what I was doing and she just took over. That is, until about the third or fourth number when I regained my confidence and we clicked. Just like that. We were in tune with each other and I was on top of the world. I didn't want this evening ever to end.

"I'm having a very nice time, Rick," she said, almost whispering into my ear.

"That's great. I am too. I guess you could tell I was nervous."

"I liked that. You didn't try to fake something. You let me help. You're a nice guy, Rick. I have chosen well." 

I let the comment pass. This wasn't the time for an in-depth conversation. I just wanted to keep holding her close to me. Her perfume was subtle and lovely, just like her. For a confident woman, she was a curious mix of boldness and understatement. I was looking forward to getting to know her better ... if I got the opportunity.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said as we moved closely to a slow number. By now, I was certain she could feel my seemingly permanent erection.

"Oh ... my ... I think there are a hundred things going on in my head right now. I know I'm enjoying myself being with you. You are the most beautiful woman here and I'm lucky enough to be with you. I'm thinking about what we might have in common. Wondering if there might be a second date." I stopped and looked at her. "As I said ... a hundred things."

She looked carefully at me. "Would you like to have a second date?"

"Yes! Absolutely! No doubt about it!" 

She laughed. "Well, don't be so wishy-washy then."

I laughed too. She wasn't fazed by my adulation or enthusiasm. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to find out what she was hoping for in her life. Did she like teaching? Why was she still single? It seemed so improbable when she was such a beautiful, desirable woman.

The thought crossed my mind that I had no idea what she might want to do on a date. A movie, dinner, or ... what?

During the course of the evening, Astrid was asked to dance by several of the young bachelors at the party, but politely declined. When two of the married teachers asked, she accepted. I thought that was interesting. I felt she was making me feel important and it worked. I never had any doubt that she wanted to be with me. It was very good for my self-esteem.

At last, however, the evening was ending and the party breaking up. I retrieved our coats. As we walked outside, I saw it was raining and I asked her to wait under the cover of the entrance to the hotel while I brought the car around. I ran to the parking lot and quickly drove to the entrance. I jumped out to find Astrid and saw that she appeared to be cornered in a conversation with three of the single men from the party.

She didn't look particularly happy until I walked up to her, interrupting the men as I arrived.

"The car's out front now, Astrid," I said, surveying the three guys. All three gave me dirty looks.

"Thank you, Rick. Good night gentlemen," she said in a somewhat abrupt manner and quickly took my arm as we walked out to the car.

"Were they bothering you?" I asked.

"Nothing I couldn't handle. I think a few too many drinks and they get bold, or in one case, rude," she said. "Thank you for rescuing me," she said as she turned to me and smiled.

"Happy to be of service, m'lady."

"It's so nice to be with a gentleman. You make me feel very good about my choice, Rick." 

Again, it was that odd comment that left me with a curious feeling. Was I being chosen for something? If so, what? There was nothing about her behavior that gave any hint that she wasn't having a good time this evening, or that she didn't enjoy being with me.


Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 01



It was only a five minute drive to her apartment, and after stopping in front, I hopped out and got the car door for her. I intended to walk her to the entrance, so I retrieved my small, collapsible umbrella from the back seat to protect her from the rain. She beamed her thanks and we walked the few steps up the front walkway. I held the lobby door for her, fully expecting my evening to end at that point.

"Would you like to come up for a coffee ... or something?" she asked.

"Uhmmm ... well ... if it's not too late ... sure," I stammered, completely surprised. "I'll just lock the car." I turned, pushing the button on my keyless lock. I turned back and she was already at the elevator, pressing one of the buttons.

Her apartment was on the top floor of the three story building. The apartments weren't new, but appeared to be well kept and the halls displayed new paint, carpet, and decorations. Funny, I didn't notice any of this when I came to pick her up earlier. There were other things on my mind, I suppose. 

Astrid unlocked her door and walked in, turning on some lights. The apartment was neat, clean and almost exactly what I expected. She was a confident, organized, determined woman. I got the sense that she had some sort of plan, and I was curious where I fit into it. 

It surprised me that I was thinking this way. A few hours earlier, I was struggling with the idea that she would even choose me for a date. Now I suspected there was more in store for us. I just didn't know what that might be.

"Shall I make some coffee," she asked. She was wearing that special smile that I hadn't yet interpreted. There was something being said behind it, but I was too green and inexperienced to recognize it. Nevertheless, I would go with the flow.

"Yes, if you're having some as well ... thank you."

She moved to the kitchen and I heard the water running briefly.

"Make yourself comfortable, Rick. This won't take long."

I sat on the sofa and gazed at the prints on the wall. They were unusual, I thought. Not the conventional clichéd landscape prints. One was an interesting still-life of an amber bottle on a sandy beach with the rays of the setting sun striking through it. Others were prints of people in groups. One at an amusement park, another on a street with storefronts in the background, still another with a large family standing in front of a barn. Like Astrid, they were appealing and uncommon. There was a bookcase on the far wall and my curiosity got the best of me. I rose to inspect the titles. It might tell me something about this interesting woman.

"I'm just going to change into something more comfortable," Astrid suddenly announced as she exited the kitchen. "I'll be right back," she said, not waiting for my acknowledgement.

Something more comfortable. I'd heard that line before. Mostly in B movies. My head was spinning again. This woman was keeping me off balance and I didn't think it was by accident. The bookcase was quickly forgotten.

True to her word, she was back in less than five minutes, wearing a sweat shirt and baggy shorts. She was also barefoot. I didn't think it was possible to look that sexy in those clothes, but Astrid proved me wrong. It may have been the sway of her breasts, obviously unfettered beneath the sweatshirt. Then again, it may have been the sway of her backside as she sashayed to the kitchen. I was in new territory now. This was a first.

"There, now you can feel free to take off your jacket and loosen your tie." 

I took her advice. 

"What do you like in your coffee," she called from the kitchen.

"Just cream, please."

Within a minute she brought two large mugs out and set them down on the coffee table in front of me. She moved around the table and sat down beside me on the small sofa. 

"There. A nice, cozy finish to a lovely evening," she said with "that" smile.

"It was great. Thank you. I don't think I've ever had a more pleasant evening. You were the Belle of the Ball, too."

"Now there's an old fashioned saying. Belle of the Ball, indeed," she laughed. She was making fun of my comment, but not in a mean way. I was beginning to feel I could "read" her better now.

"At the risk of saying the wrong thing," I began cautiously, "I think you knew it." I attempted to grin when I said it.

"Huh! You think so, do you?" She tried to scowl, but didn't quite pull it off. I couldn't suppress a laugh.

"Do I intimidate you?" she asked. I thought it was a sincere question.

"In the beginning ... yes. I'm not used to being in the company of a beautiful woman. It took me a while to feel comfortable with you. You helped a lot to make that happen." 

"Good. I'm glad. I wasn't trying to overwhelm you. I really did have a good time and you are very nice to be with."

"Just the same, you gave me the impression that this was all part of a carefully orchestrated plan. I'm curious. I'm sure you learned a lot about me tonight, but I didn't learn much about you." I was testing the water carefully.

"What do you want to know?"

"What do you like to do in your spare time? What are you interested in. I was curious about your choices in prints and books. They often say something about the person that chose them. I'm not sure what these pictures say."

She laughed. "They don't say anything, Rick. I just liked them and a year from now I'll probably be tired of them and get some different ones. As for the books, I'm an English teacher, so literature is part of my job. I read a lot of different things, history, biographies, novels, classics ... even a bit of erotica." She was watching to see my reaction.

"Erotica. Well, I don't suppose that gets into the classroom," I grinned.

"No. It's strictly for self-entertainment."

"Oh."

"What does 'oh' mean?" she asked seriously.

"Just, oh. No special meaning," I lied. I was almost on my feet to look and see what the erotica selection was.

"Maybe it would help if I told you that in my not-so-distant past, I was very liberal-minded. My college days were my escape from supervision. I was a naughty little girl sometimes," she smirked.

"That's not the reputation you have here," I observed.

"You mean the "Ice Queen" label? That's to deal with the unsolicited attentions of the single males on staff ... and a couple of the married ones."

"I'm a single male on staff," I said, curious about what she was trying to tell me.

"Yes, but you are unlike the others ... or at least, most of the others. You're much more mature and traveled, despite your age. You know so much about so many things. That makes you attractive to women, you know. At least, it does to this woman.

"I've decided I need a man in my life. I'm not cut out to be alone and I'm twenty-five. But ... and it's a big 'but,' I'm very picky. Not just any old John Doe will do." She delivered this message in a quiet, confident manner.

"So, here I am, still wondering about what caused you to choose me. I know you told me already, but ... I guess I'm hard to convince."

"You sure are. Look, Rick, it isn't complicated. You underestimate your appeal to women. You're a bright, good-looking young man with a nice way about you and a good future. I think you'd make very good husband material, so I'm checking you out." 

There was humour in her comments. You could hear it in her voice.

"You don't sound like you take this very seriously," I observed.

"Oh, but you're wrong. I take it very seriously. I've had my flings and my one-night-stands. I'm past that now. I'm looking for Mr. Right."

"So this is an audition?"

"Don't be so negative, Rick. It's a date, and it's been fun and you're just what I was hoping you would be."

"So ... about that second date?" I tried.

She gave me a megawatt smile. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't ask."

"Well, if I'm going to put my best foot forward, I need to know more about you. The things you like to do or see. Museums or movies? Dinner theatre? Gardens, seaside walks, baseball games? I'll try and be creative, if I can," I promised.

"You really are different, Rick. You take nothing for granted. You ask and then listen to the answer. I think we are going to get along very, very well," she said in a sultry voice. At that point, she put her coffee down and leaned toward me, kissing me fully on the lips.

I must have looked surprised. Something unexpected just happened. A very sexy woman kissed me. And it wasn't some brother-sister kiss either. Almost instinctively, I reached for her hand. I took it gently in mine, raising it to kiss the back of it.  

With my inexperience, I was unsure how these male-female signals were interpreted. In this case, Astrid leaned back into me and kissed me once more, but far more forcefully. I felt her lips opening slightly and her tongue slipping through to travel slowly across my still-closed mouth. I don't remember my hands moving to her shoulders, but there they were a moment later. 

Despite the fact that I had been with other women before, I had no idea what to do next. I was hoping that Astrid would decide for me. Luckily, she did. She slid closer to me and then, in a single fluid move, lifted her leg over mine and sat straddling me, our faces still locked in that kiss. I have no idea how long it lasted, but then, I didn't really care. I was in never-never land and happy to be there.

"You and I are going to be quite something together," she said as she broke the kiss.

"We are?" Brilliant conversation just wasn't on for me at that particular moment.

"Oh yes, we are. I had a hunch you were the man for me, but I wasn't sure. Of course, you'll have to meet some other requirements to confirm my opinion."

"I will?" 

"It's simple. I've been looking for my ideal man. I have had it up to here with the pretenders and bozos and arrogant jerks that populate the single male population. And the ones that aren't, don't have anything interesting about them. No wonder I'm still single. Until you came along, I thought maybe my standards were too high."

The fact that she was sitting on my lap, facing me, her lips only inches from mine wasn't lost on me. I moved my head forward slightly and kissed her gently. She responded, but there was nothing gentle about it. It was a demanding, aggressive kiss.

"So, about these other requirements," I probed.

She grinned and then laughed lightly. "Can't you guess? If we are going to be a couple, then I have to be satisfied that you can keep me ... satisfied. Understood?"

"Uhmmm ... I think I know what you're getting at," I said, less confused than a moment ago. She was talking about sex. 

"I have to tell you, Astrid, that I'm very inexperienced. I'd probably be a disappointment ... at least in the beginning." I thought it best to be honest.

"I know. I didn't expect you to be Don Juan. In fact, I'm happy that you aren't. You won't have developed any bad habits, and I can teach you just what you need to know to satisfy a woman. Specifically, me." There wasn't anything equivocal about her comment. She would teach and I would learn.

"That's very ... uhmmm ... generous of you. I can't think of anything I'd rather learn ... at least ... not at this moment." I was babbling. Shut up, Rick! 

"You're a sweet man, Rick. So innocent. I'm not so innocent. I've enough intimate experience that I know what's important, and I know what makes me satisfied. If you'll let me, I'll be your teacher and for a while, you'll be my student."

"What happens when I graduate?" I asked, smiling broadly I was sure.

"Well ... then we'll be equals. Both of us knowing what the other wants from a relationship. Both of us willing to give in that relationship. Both of us wanting to please the other. How does that sound?"

I thought I was dreaming. "Wonderful!"

"Good. Then it's settled. When would you like to start?" she asked, her face so close to me she was almost out of focus.

"Uhmmm ... when would you like ... I mean ...?" I didn't get a chance to finish my stumbling question. She was pressing her lips against mine again and at the same time I saw her pulling her sweatshirt over her head.

I've seen naked women before, including naked women that I've been with at the time. But I have never seen such a perfect female form as Astrid displayed when she removed her sweatshirt. She possessed one of those amazing sculpted athletic physiques ... with the exception of the breasts. Full, perfectly symmetrical, firm, upwardly pointed, right from the pages of some men's magazine. Erect nipples surrounded by a generous, dark brown areola. She was incredible! 

"Well, what do you say?" she teased.

"Oh Teacher, my Teacher," I cried. 

"That's the spirit. I have a hunch you are going to be a wonderful lover ... lover." 

"I will give it my best effort."

"I bet you will. Now ... come with me for lesson number one," her eyebrow arched and finger crooked. She took my hand and led me to her bedroom.

I'd like to claim I was great that first time and that Astrid was more than satisfied, but that would be a lie. I was, as I expected, far too excited and tense to last more than a minute or so. I tried to apologize, but Astrid was having none of it. She simple applied a little lip and tongue magic to my limp member, and I was restored.

The second effort was much better for endurance, but I knew by her reaction that I was too anxious and not paying attention to her needs. Even though I recognized that, I still had a hard time controlling myself. 

Astrid didn't act upset by my stumbling beginning. "Relax, Rick. We have all weekend. Just let me lead and I'll tell you what I want. Once you get over your nerves, I'm sure you'll feel much more confident."

I didn't know that I could perform a third time. I thought it was something only some super-stud did. Astrid had other ideas. Once more, she worked her magic on my flaccid cock and surprise ... I was ready for more. 

This time, I took her advice and just relaxed. I was lying on my back and she was on top, riding me very slowly. She was talking to me ... telling me how she was feeling.

"That's it, Rick. That's lovely. Oh, Yesssss. Just nice and slow ... Yesssss," she crooned. Her eyes were almost closed and her breasts were swaying in time with our rhythm. I'd never experienced anything like it before. It was the most erotic experience, and it was happening to me. Me! 

"Oh ... so full ... fuck ... so good ... Yesssss," she hissed. Every so often, her eyes would open and she would gaze at me and smile. God, that made me feel good! 

I don't know how long we lasted. At one moment, I thought I would last forever, while at another, I was sure I was going to finish any second. Astrid sensed what was going on with me and changed her movements and pace to help me survive. But sooner or later, I was going to finish ... whether I wanted to or not.

"Oh ... Astrid ... I'm sorry ... I'm sorry ... I can't ... uhnnnggghhh!" was the only warning I was able to give her. When my senses were restored, she was lying on top of me, still joined with my now softening member. She didn't move and I began idly stroking her back and buttocks with my hands. Slowly and softly, I caressed her incredible body.

"That was lovely, Rick. You did very well in lesson one," she mumbled into my shoulder.

I was riding a wave of euphoria and couldn't resist a wisecrack.

"Well, at least I was a little better during lesson one-c."

"You don't have to go home tonight, do you?" she asked softly.

"No ... no ... I don't. Would you like me to stay?" There was no way in hell I was going to turn her down.

"Yes, please." 

That was the last thing I heard her say. A minute or so later, I heard her rhythmic breathing and realized she was asleep. I cautiously slipped out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. When I returned, I turned out the bedside light and carefully moved back under the covers. I don't think it took me more than a minute to fall asleep.



Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 02



When I awoke Saturday morning, I was lying on my side, facing Astrid. My eyes gradually focused on her as she slept, lying on her back, her magnificent chest rising and falling in a slow, regular pace. Her hair was tousled, her lipstick and what little makeup long gone, but my god ... she was beautiful. Imagine awakening to that vision every morning. 

And then I had a sobering thought. What if last night was a mistake? What if she never intended to have happen what happened? It seemed hard to believe she wasn't in full control of her emotions. Yes, we'd drunk some wine with dinner, but not so much that I didn't remember every single detail of the hours I spent with her. And I knew she didn't drink any more than I did.

I lay there for quite a while, just absorbing her beauty. I don't know how long it was before I saw her eyelids flicker. She was beginning to wake up. It was the moment of truth. Now, I would know. "Don't get your hopes up," I told myself.

A minute or so later, Astrid rolled onto her side and saw me staring at her. Her eyes flickered again and then ... and then ... she smiled.

"Morning, lover," she croaked.

I thought I was going to explode. My breath escaped in a rush and I reached for her. She wiggled her way toward me, pulling me tightly to her. Her eyes closed again, but her hand was pushing its way down between us. In a moment, I felt it softly close around my usual morning erection. Only this time, it wasn't my usual morning erection. I was painfully hard, and her touch made me flinch. 

"Hmmmm," I heard her moan. She was moving her body back and forth, rubbing herself on my rigid cock. She went on like this for a minute, then, in a graceful move, she swung her leg over and mounted me. I felt myself being swallowed by her now very well lubricated opening. In no time, I was fully engulfed within her and I felt her internal muscles pulsing as she lay on me, using her hips to create that perfect rhythm.

Happily, I wasn't as tense or as nervous as I was last night. Perhaps it was because I was having sex for the fourth time in a few hours. I didn't care why. I was just happy that I wasn't going to disappoint her. Damn ... what a bloody marvelous way to start the day!

We lay in that comfortable, lazy bliss for sometime. Astrid would use little movements to let me know she was still there. I would respond in kind, arching my hips now and then to penetrate more deeply. 

I don't have any idea how long we spent like that, but at some point, I heard Astrid's sharp intake of breath. A moment later, she physically rolled me over so that I was on top of her.

"Now!" she cried. "Now, Rick! Now!" 

I assumed that it was time for me to pick up the pace. I did, quickly lengthening my strokes and then putting more power behind my thrusts.

"Yes! ... that's right ... Yes!" she gasped.

I didn't expect to last very long, but happily, I continued for several minutes. We didn't finish together, but it was close. More importantly, Astrid made it plain that I stayed with her long enough for her to experience an orgasm. 

"Awwwwwh ... Rick. That was so good. You were there for me, lover. Thank you," she said, her hands clasping my face. I lowered my head to her and we kissed deeply.

I rolled off her and pulled her to me, face to face, kissing her gently in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I couldn't help thinking that my life had changed in a matter of hours, and yet I didn't have any idea where that change would take me. For now, I would just hang on for dear life. 

We lay there in each others arms for a while. 

"Do you think I'm a slut?" she asked out of nowhere.

"No ... of course not. Why would you ask?"

"Because ... I told you about my past and what I thought of the guys that wanted to get into my pants on a first date and here we are ... our first date isn't even over yet," she chuckled. "It's just like my college days."

"No ... I don't think that at all. I don't know what happened, Astrid, except ... I'm excited about being with you. I do want that second date ... and the third ... and the fourth," I said, uncertain of what to expect from her.

"If you keep treating me the way you have ... you can have all the dates you want. No limits," she giggled.

We were quiet for a while and then, I couldn't resist. "What was the first lesson?" 

"Oh. That. Uhmmm ... let's see ... we'll call it Introduction to Intercourse, 101," she chortled.

"At the risk of asking a stupid question ... how did I do?"

"You passed. Couldn't you tell? It took you a couple of tries, but ... you got the hang of it."

"What was this morning?"

She fell silent, her brow wrinkled, and then, "Eye-opener Intercourse, 102. You got an A." The look on her face was priceless. She was having fun. It wasn't life-or-death serious stuff for her. I felt the pressure drop away. I was doing fine, it appeared.

We spent the rest of the weekend together. Mostly, we got to know each other. She'd been finding out about me, I discovered. She heard about my teaching method and my travels and wanted to hear more. She wondered if my techniques would work in her English class. We spent some time brainstorming ideas in that direction, but didn't come up with anything definite.

"Are you happy being a teacher?" I asked.

"Yes ... for now. There may be other things I would want to do in the future, but for now ... I'm satisfied with teaching."

"If you could do anything at all ... anything ... what would it be?"

"I don't know. I mean, I have so many things that interest me. I want to travel like you did. I want to see more of the world. Not the tourist places ... how people really live in other countries. I'd like to be able to help people who can't help themselves. I've thought about volunteering, but ... I haven't done anything about it yet."

"You don't sound like the 'playgirl of the western world.'"

"Hah! Maybe I've changed. Maybe I'll be a better person because of you ... or someone like you." She didn't appear to be posturing.

"You don't think you're a good person right now?" I asked, almost regretting the question as soon as it was out of my mouth.

"I'm getting better ... smarter. When I came here ... to Little River ... I knew I couldn't behave the way I did at school. I guess I looked at myself in the mirror and decided I wanted to be someone better. But to tell the truth, I was lonely. I didn't have any friends and I wasn't dating ... so ... I wasn't very happy. I made up my mind this year that I was going to change all that. And then ... you came along."

"Lucky me."

She wanted to see my apartment. She said that it would tell her more about me, just as I hoped to learn more about her from her place. When she entered, she looked around at the piles of books and reference material and nodded her head.

"This is pretty much what I expected," she said, still searching out my apartment. "It's pretty neat, but then, so are you." I got a smile from her. My housekeeping passed inspection. I didn't even have time to tidy up for her.

"No pictures?" My walls were bare, unlike hers. 

"No ... not yet. I'm not sure what I'd hang. I'm not into the usual landscapes or that kind of stuff. I don't get modern art ... you know ... the far-out stuff," I confessed. "I guess I'm wondering what I'd like to see myself," I mused.

"What about some nudes?" She asked the question with a straight face.

I was sure she was kidding. "Eh ... well ... that might not be to everyone's taste either."

"Hey ... it's your apartment. Decorate it the way you want. To hell with what other people think."

"That's easy for you to say. You don't have to explain to visitors that I'm not some kind of voyeur or lecher."

"They don't have to be 'Penthouse' explicit, you know. They can be tasteful ... subtle ... maybe just hinting at sexuality."

I looked at her closely. She was serious ... almost as if she was trying to imagine where just such a painting might go.

"Perhaps ... with your guidance ... I might be able to find something ... appropriate?" I suggested carefully.

She turned and walked to me. "Would you trust me ... trust my judgement?"

"Of course." I wasn't lying. I did trust her. 

"Well then, it's still early, why don't we head for the village and look about in the art and gift shops. Tomorrow, there's an outdoor market with arts and crafts at the Cates farm. I went there last year and got some neat stuff for my place."

"Tell me about your pictures and prints. Most of them feature people. What do they represent?" I asked.

"I don't know. I didn't even notice that was the subject I was interested in until I hung them all. Strange, isn't it?"

"I guess so. But, now that you have seen them all together, what do you think it means?"

She was shaking her head. "I can't do it here. I need to be with them. Maybe we can make sense of them together," she suggested.

There weren't any nudes or representations of nudes on display at the local shops. I wasn't surprised. This was a conservative community and although there were plenty of artists living in the immediate vicinity, their work all seemed to fall into conventional categories of landscapes, impressionist, or still life.

I did buy a print I liked. It was an impressionistic view of a small fishboat, lying on its side at low tide. It came framed and I was trying to decide where I would hang it. Astrid thought it was interesting and different. I was pleased with her approval. I wanted her to approve of the things I did, and in general of me. That had become very important to me.

I put the print into my car and we resumed strolling hand-in-hand through the small town, stopping to look in various shops. Astrid mentioned she was looking for a Christmas gift for her father.

Christmas! I would have to get her a gift. It dawned on me that there was less than a week to think of something. Something personal? Maybe something that complemented her beauty? I didn't have a lot to spend, but suddenly this was essential.

We spent Saturday night at my place. I was beginning to feel more confident with Astrid. She helped a great deal, of course. She was very encouraging and supportive. She was also very sexually alive. She was on the pill, so condoms weren't necessary. It helped make our sex more spontaneous, she said.

We were lying in bed, coming down from another lovely orgasmic high. I'd never felt quite so satisfied. Now and then I did wonder if our budding relationship was built on a house of cards, or perhaps there was a time limit. It still had that "too good to be true" sensation about it. 

"I haven't been with anyone for quite a while, Rick. I suppose that's why I'm so ... horny," she said after a while. "But it was my choice. I wasn't going to settle for second best. I wanted a man that I could wake up with in the morning and be happy that we were together. That's how I felt this morning." 

I saw the beginnings of a tear glistening in her eye, and I felt my heart contract in my chest. There was something so completely honest about that simple comment. There was no hesitation in her morning smile. It couldn't have been contrived. So now, it was left to me to decide where this relationship would go. Sooner or later, I needed to get off the dime.

The Christmas present was a difficult choice. At first I thought of a nice piece of jewelry. Perhaps a simple gold chain that I saw in one of the local stores? Maybe not. Was it too personal when we were just getting to know each other? 

It was only good fortune that I found two satisfying gifts. We were in a book store and I was telling her about my first job after finishing college. She mentioned a book she was interested in. I didn't recognize the title, but I recognized the author; Hillary McDowell. She of La Liberation de Amelie fame. It was a bit of a risk, but ... nothing ventured, nothing gained. I wanted to let her know I was on her "wave length." 

I went back to the store during the week and found a copy of McDowell's latest book. It was, as I expected, quite explicit. You might call it a how-to book for women on achieving the maximum satisfaction from their personal relationships. It seemed a bit odd to me that Astrid would need more reinforcement for her already active libido, but I wasn't about to second-guess her.

Just before Christmas, I was walking to my local pharmacy when I stopped to look in the window of an antique shop. It was full of the usual furniture and oddments typical of these shops. But what caught my eye was a small, oval locket in silver with a filigreed case and simple silver chain. I walked into the store and approached the clerk.

Five minutes later, I was walking out of the store with a small package in my coat pocket and a credit card receipt for what was for me an extravagant expense, considering I just met the woman.

When she unwrapped her two gifts on Christmas Eve, I got a big thank you, a kiss, a grope of my manhood, and a promise.

"We're going to have some fun tonight, Monsieur Campbell." I didn't doubt it for a minute.

I received a new print, the silhouette of a nude. It was a photograph in black and white and very nice. There was something familiar about it.

"That's you, isn't it," I guessed.

"How could you tell?"

"I think I'm getting to know that body very well in the past ten days. Who took the picture?"

"A girl has to have some secrets," she said coyly, "but I guess I can tell you. I did."

"Really! It looks so ... professional. How did you do it."

"Trial and error. Time delay on the shutter and about twenty attempts. Thank god for digital cameras." She was justifiably proud of herself.

We argued about whether it should be hung in the living room or in the bedroom. I was smart enough to allow Astrid to win. It now hangs on the wall near the hallway in the living room.

Astrid is an inventive and demanding lover. She makes no apologies for her appetite. She does everything possible to help me satisfy her while giving back to me in return. My education was beginning to blossom nicely. 

She taught me how to make oral love to her in a way that would satisfy her completely. She taught me the subtleties of touch, using my fingers and lips and tongue and even teeth to arouse her and bring her to completion. Along the way, I was getting all the satisfaction I could handle.

Our developing romance did not go unnoticed by our peers. It became obvious that we were a couple and unfortunately that got me in the "bad books" of some of the single men on staff. I knew that Astrid acquired the "Ice Queen" nickname from them when she steadfastly declined dates with any of them. One or two of the prospective boyfriends concluded that she was lesbian and therefore a lost cause. I, of course, messed that assessment up totally. I wasn't too worried about my status, though. I was the winner! Besides, my relationship with the married staff was fine. 

On a whim, I decided to purchase a bouquet of flowers one Saturday morning while I was shopping. Astrid reacted as if I'd brought her the finest gift possible.

"Oh, Rick. They're lovely. Thank you. I'll put them in a vase and take them to school on Monday. They can sit on my desk and remind me of you." She was genuinely pleased and flattered. 

She'd admitted she loved flowers and was often stopping to admire other gardens in our neighbourhood. She always seemed to have a small collection in the apartment when I visited. I responded by buying a fresh assortment each Saturday and taking them to her.

I wasn't short of support or encouragement for my teaching methods, although I knew the administration was keeping a close eye on my progress. As a rookie, I was traveling new ground and I had to make sure I not only followed the curriculum, but that my students were meeting the grade standards as well. So far, so good.

One of the things that I truly enjoyed about Astrid was talking with her. We talked a lot. Not just after sex or on our frequent walks, but during our morning break at school and over lunch. I wanted to know more about her. One day, while we were walking on the beach in the cold, late winter air, she opened up to me.

"My mother died when I was just five. She just got sick and died. I don't know if they really know what happened to her, but I still remember how lonely I felt when she was gone. My dad tried to be one of those men who didn't show any emotion. But one night, almost a year after mom died, I heard him crying in his bedroom. I knew losing her hurt him just as deeply as it hurt me.

"Dad remarried when I was nine. Her name is Crystal. Can you believe it? She sounds like a stripper or a hooker. She's OK, I guess. She was divorced from her first husband. No kids. Apparently, she couldn't have any. Anyway, she and I kind of tolerate each other. I gave her a pretty hard time when I was growing up. She didn't know how to handle it, so she just put up with me. I'm sure it wasn't any fun for her.

"I guess I could have turned into a real handful for them, but I never wanted to hurt Dad. I just aggravated Crystal and left it at that. I was pretty good in school, so they never needed to worry about that. When I finished high school, I went to University of Victoria and decided on Education after I got there. I have no idea why I thought I wanted to be a teacher, but it turned out fine. I thought I wanted to be a writer. That's why I took all the English courses."

I turned to her as she seemed to have finished. "Do you still want to be a writer?"

"Maybe. I haven't decided what I would write about. Fiction? Me? I don't know. Technically, I know I can. It's whether I can make it interesting. Would anyone else want to read it?"

"I imagine you had lots of friends, particularly boyfriends," I suggested.

"Not right away. First, there were the braces at thirteen and fourteen. Then there was the acne. Then, there was the awkward growth spurt, up and out. I didn't have a date until I was almost sixteen. I didn't look anything like this until I was almost finished with school. Then ... I started making up for lost time.

"I lost my virginity at my grad party. I decided a month earlier that I was going to do it, so ... I did. The guy I was with couldn't resist telling everyone within a hundred miles that he'd scored with me. He was lousy, but that wasn't what he was telling everyone. By the time summer came along, you'd think I was the town slut."

"That must have hurt," I offered sympathetically.

"It did. I couldn't wait to get to college and get away from those kids. Thank god I was in another city. No one knew me. I got a fresh start, but the truth is, I was pretty wild. Luckily, I got through my courses and graduated. I don't think my dad or Crystal ever knew about my after-school activities."

We walked in silence for a while. 

"What about you?" she asked at length. "Are you from around here?"

"Vancouver. The west end. Kerrisdale. My folks bought and completely rebuilt a 'forties Craftsman-style house. I've lived there almost all my life. Like you, no brothers or sisters. My folks and I are real close. Our whole family is close. My dad's parents are still alive and living in Vernon. Mom's father died young and she was raised by my late grandmother. She's the one who stoked my fires about history and travel.

"I did OK in high school too, but it wasn't until I went to U.B.C. that I got the opportunity to travel. It was Granny Eliza's gift that made it all possible. That's what got me going about history and the fascinating stories behind all those boring names and dates. After I got back from my first trip, I couldn't wait to spread the gospel."

Astrid laughed. "It must be great to be excited about teaching ... telling others about the places you've been and the things you've seen."

"Yeah. It took another six years before I got the chance here, but I sure don't regret it. I was able to pack a lot more travel into those years. That many more stories to tell."




Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 02



"I've been to London and Paris and Rome," Astrid said. "I loved it. It was so exciting to see things and places that I'd only read about or seen on TV."

"I didn't know you'd been to Europe. You went with your parents?"

"Yes. Summer trips for two or three weeks. I wish we stayed longer and saw more of the country. You have been so many more places. I envy you ... where you've been ... what you've seen."

I nodded. "You can't imagine the impact the pyramids at Giza have when you are right there beside and inside them."

"You went inside?" She was shocked.

"Yeah. I've got tell you though, if it wasn't for a bunch of other people being with me at the time, I'd never have gone in. Talk about claustrophobia. I don't think I can remember half of what the guide was saying I was so nervous. That was my one and only trip underground." 

"Wow ... I'd love to see them," she said enthusiastically. "One of these days ... I'm going to do it."

"That's one thing about being a teacher ... time off during the summer. Save your money and plan your trip. Half the fun for me was planning where I was going to go."

"Where do you want to go next?" she asked.

"I've been looking at the Czech Republic, Hungary and Austria. It's expensive, but I think I can manage it." I wondered what was running through Astrid's mind.

"I'd like to see more of 'old Europe' and that's the place for it," I continued. "Along with Rumania, Slovakia, and Poland. I don't think I'll ever run out of places I want to see."

"I'd love to do that too, but I don't think I'd want to do it on my own," she mused.

"Not a good idea," I agreed. "A single woman on her own is a risky proposition. You need to be with someone, or a group. Safety in numbers." 

"I wouldn't be worried if I were with someone like you. You've got all that experience. I'd be safe with you."

I surmised that I'd just watched a trial balloon go up. The thought already crossed my mind to invite Astrid to join me, but I hadn't acted upon it. I had no idea what her finances were, or how she would like the low-budget approach I was used to.

"It's pretty expensive, like I say. I pretty much have to start saving for my next trip as soon as I get back in September." 

"I would love to go with you, Rick. I'd have an experienced guide and a protector and a lover all wrapped into one," she smiled.

There was something about this conversation that was setting off small signals. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I was definitely uncomfortable. Too much, too soon?

"What about money. Can you afford it?"

"Absolutely. I can be very thrifty when I need to be. And don't worry about my fitness. I am a P.E. teacher, after all."

"You don't even know how much it would cost," I said, thinking she was glossing over the obstacles.

"You and I make similar salaries. If you can afford it, I can too. Besides, I have some money set aside for a 'rainy day' and I can't think of a better use for it that spending it with you." I didn't look like I was going to talk her out of it.

We stopped walking and were standing facing each other on the beach. The watery, late-winter sun was beginning to sink toward the mountains. It was time to head back to the car. 

"Let's talk about it tonight. Do you have a current passport?"

"Yup. I can be packed in twenty minutes and we can be on our way," she laughed.

I shook my head. It was all decided. At least, it was for Astrid.

I wasn't going to talk Astrid out of coming with me this summer. I still had an uneasy feeling about our relationship and I just couldn't figure out why. She was a loving, enthusiastic partner. She made it plain she was exclusively attached to me. She boosted my ego to heights I'd never before known. I was powerless to resist her or refuse her. She was invading my life as no one before had ever done.

A beautiful woman, dedicated to making me happy. A bright, lively, intelligent woman with social skills beyond her years. A woman that made other men envious of me. So what was the problem?

Was it because she had invaded my life? She had taken me prisoner. I was with her at her sufferance. She decided that we should be a couple. There wasn't a single reason why I should object. She simply exhibited excellent taste. Hah! But where was the romance?

While this and other thoughts were rolling around in my head, Astrid made another decision.

"Rick ... I'd like to meet your parents at spring break. And ... I'd like you to meet mine." She framed it as a request, but I didn't think I should decline. We were sitting in her living room after finishing the dinner dishes.

"OK ... Uhhhmmm ... we can do that," I answered carefully.

"Does that make you nervous?" she asked.

"No ... no ... not at all." I might have been a little too quick with my denial.

"It's not like we're engaged or anything. I just want to meet your family and I want you to meet mine. After all, they're entitled to know who I'm sleeping with and who I plan to be with on our summer vacation."

Indisputable logic. Why worry, I thought. I might as well meet the family now. It was probably going to happen sooner or later anyway.

*

My thanks to ErikThread for his editing skills and support. Any errors are mine. 



Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 03



My thanks to ErikThread for his skillful editing and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.

*

It was mid-April when we boarded the ferry for the mainland and headed to my parents' home. I phoned them in advance and told them I wanted them to meet my "girlfriend," Astrid Rasmussen. Mom was immediately interested and wanted more information about her. I gave her very little. I don't know why. I thought it was better to have them meet. Mom would give Astrid the "third degree" I was sure. Let her do it in person.

Astrid did her part and called her father and Crystal, letting them know we would be staying with them for three days. Apparently they would be happy to have us there and were looking forward to meeting me.

You never know how these meetings are going to go. When we arrived at my parents' home, I was mildly uncomfortable. I intended to introduce Astrid and hoped that she would take it from there. I shouldn't have worried. 

Astrid charmed my mother and father almost immediately. She and my mother couldn't wait to be on their own to exchange stories about me. Dad, in the meantime, was shaking his head.

"I don't want to belittle or insult you, Rick, but ... where in the hell did you find her? She is drop-dead gorgeous."

I smiled and shrugged. "Just good luck," I said. I couldn't resist telling him that Astrid asked me out first.

"Actually, Dad, she asked me to invite her to the Christmas dance, and we took off from there."

"She ... came and got you! Wow! What's your secret? Wait a minute ... don't tell me. I'll find out from your mother anyway," he grinned, still shaking his head.

Again, I just shrugged.

Mom threw me another curve when she told me to put Astrid's things in what was my room. She made the assumption that we would be sleeping together. Now that was a surprise. I know Mom is a pretty hip, modern woman ... for her age. But I didn't expect this. I looked at Dad, and again he shrugged. The two of us were getting good at that.

That night, in bed, Astrid wanted to talk. I wanted to make love, but I knew the talk would come first.

"Your mother is someone special, Rick. I can't tell you how envious I am that she was in your life. I would have given anything to have a mom like Eleanor."

"Oh ... it's Eleanor now, is it?"

"She asked me to call her that. We're going to be very good friends, I just know it. She accepted me right away. We a long talk this afternoon when you and your dad were in the other room."

"A long talk about what ... or should I say whom?"

"You, of course. I want to know everything about you. What makes you tick? Your favorite things ... all that sort of stuff. Your mother was very helpful."

"You already know most of that stuff. Just how helpful was my mother?"

Astrid laughed. "Very. She told me lots about you ... especially when you were a teenager. You didn't tell me you used to have girlfriends."

"That was kid stuff. Juvenile fantasies and raging hormones," I said dismissively. 

"Your mom knew when you weren't a virgin any more, you know."

"She did? How? I wasn't even sure I knew." 

"She found some condoms hidden in your nightstand. She noticed when a couple went missing. You can't fool mothers," Astrid said with apparent delight. As she talked, she took hold of my now increasing erection and softly stroked me. It wasn't good for my concentration.

"I suppose you want to know about it." I'm sure I didn't sound very enthusiastic.

"Only the part about why you're not sure ... about having sex I mean."

I was lying on my back, my head sunk as far into the pillow as the foam would allow, my eyes closed.

"Her name was Chloe. She wasn't actually my girlfriend. We were both on the rebound ... sort of. She'd broken up with her recent boyfriend and I had just been dumped by another girl. Neither of us was feeling very good right then. Anyway, we went to a movie and afterwards we drove over to Spanish Banks to watch the submarine races. We got in the back seat and one thing led to another. 

"My hands were on her breasts and she had a hand in my pants and we were going at it pretty good. I took a condom from my wallet and after a lot of fumbling and awkward contortions, she got on my lap. Just like you did that first night. She was obviously more experienced than me, so I let her do her thing.

"The next thing I know, it's over. I must have lasted ten seconds. Not much different than our first encounter." 

"Go on," Astrid encouraged.

"Well, she said thanks, and I asked if she wanted to do it again, maybe later. She said 'no thanks' and that was it. I don't know if she figured I was a lost cause, or she was upset about something else, but ... I never dated her again. I was so embarrassed that I never asked her out again, to tell the truth."

"So ... you think that's what? Unusual? Never happened before?" She didn't sound very sympathetic.

"I don't know. I'm pretty green when it comes to sex. I told you that before we got started. I heard some of the other guys talking about doing it with their girlfriends and I was ... I don't know ... intimidated I guess."

"And you believed them," she stated flatly.

I shrugged. I'd become quite adept at shrugging lately.

"Most boys ... and I do mean boys ... bullshit about their sexual experiences. It's a male macho thing. I can tell you from personal experience that not one guy in ten has a clue what to do with a girl when he gets the chance. Sometimes they don't even get inside before they go off."

"Really?" Now, that was a surprise. Not the bullshit, but the reality.

"Really!" She was propped up on one elbow, looking at me, the light of one small lamp almost silhouetting her. "You truly are as green as grass, Rick. Maybe that's what makes you so attractive. No bullshit." She paused. "So how do you rate your performance now?"

"You're the judge of that, but ... actually ... I have a lot more confidence thanks to you. I'm more in control of myself and now I know what you want as well. I feel pretty good, to tell the truth."

"You should. You are wonderful with me. You're sensitive, attentive, and patient. And one more thing," she said with a sly smile.

"What?"

"You're bigger than most guys. I know size isn't supposed to matter, but you ... you fill me up so much. I can't believe how lucky I am to have picked you." She leaned down and kissed me, her hand still nicely folded around my erection.

"Astrid, there are times when it sounds like I was selected at some livestock auction. Like a prize bull," I said, finally speaking my mind.

"You are a prize bull ... my prize bull. You are a stud, Rick Campbell. No woman would be better served than to have you in her bed. And you're all mine," she smirked. 

"Your prize bull is ready to perform, lady. Do you have any special requests?"

"Tonight, I want to be a cowgirl, riding the biggest, toughest bull in the corral." With that, she threw back the covers and began to mount me, her hand guiding me to her already wet core. I just loved performing for her; watching her breasts bouncing wildly on her as I tried to drive her into an orgasm. I reached for her bouncing boobs, holding them firmly by the nipples as she thrashed about on top of me.

"Yeahhhhhhh," she croaked, likely alerting my parents to our activities. Astrid didn't seem to care. If anything, I wondered if she wanted them to hear us. 

"Pinch my titties, baby. Make me come," she demanded. 

I rolled her nipples between my thumb and forefingers, twisting them in their engorged state. Astrid's eye's were rolling back in her head, a sure sign she was close. She started to let loose with one of her patented orgasmic howls and I quickly clapped my hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. I was partially successful. I was hard to imagine my folks didn't hear us if they were still awake.

"Oh, baby, that was super. You are so good. So fucking good! What a great fuck!" she whispered as she collapsed on my chest.

As Astrid and I became more confident and accustomed to each other, she revealed that she possessed a potty-mouth to rival a longshoreman. It wasn't often, happily. It only appeared during the throes of wild sex. I had an aversion to swearing because it was never tolerated in our house. But for Astrid, it was an orgasmic release. She asked me to "talk dirty" to her during sex, and I apologized because it wasn't a part of my makeup. I tried, but I wasn't very successful. She said she would teach me. I wasn't in a hurry for that lesson.

We lay quietly for several minutes as we came down from our high. I don't know exactly when, but I distinctly heard a woman's cry, and later, laughter. Astrid couldn't contain herself. She laughed too. An out-loud laugh. My mother and father were obviously mimicking our activities. I wasn't surprised. My Dad was nearly cross-eyed all afternoon, watching Astrid wiggle and jiggle her way around the house. Mom didn't help. She was flaunting it pretty well herself.

It's good to know that they were still sexually active, but there was never any doubt in the first place. They never tried to hide their love for each other. Physical touching and the looks they gave each other were enough to convince me they were still very compatible, both in and out of bed. It was one of those things that gave me a lot of satisfaction and comfort. It was also the gold-standard that I sought in my life. If Astrid and I were destined for each other, I would accept nothing less than the quality of love that my parents shared.

We spent four days with my folks, from Saturday afternoon to Tuesday afternoon. Dad went to work on the weekdays, and Mom would take Astrid out to shop or meet some of her friends for coffee. There was time to look around the house for a few things that I left in storage when I moved to the island. We lunched a couple of times at local cafés and generally relaxed in each other's company. My folks made that easy to do.

I was much more nervous about meeting the Rasmussens, but I wasn't exactly sure why. I suppose it was the fear of the unknown. I didn't know how her parents would react to "another" boyfriend. Astrid seemed to be quite unfazed by it, though. 

There was another surprise in store for me, however. As she gave me directions to her parents' home, I began to realize that they lived in a very expensive part of the city -- Shaughnessy. As we got closer to the address, the homes got larger and more imposing. When she pointed to a gated driveway, I turned in and Astrid pushed a button on a small hand-held transmitter she had taken from her purse. The gates swung open.

I rolled slowly and carefully up the big driveway toward what I recognized as nothing short of a mansion. Immaculately groomed lawns and brilliantly flowered gardens encircled the stately home. I pulled to a stop under the covered entrance and sat back, just staring at the surroundings. 

"You never told me," I finally sputtered.

"You never asked," she said, carefully studying my face. "Are you upset?"

"No ... bewildered maybe, astonished, confused ... but no ... not upset. Should I be?"

"I hope not. I decided if you didn't know, Rick, it would not influence your feelings toward me. It wouldn't be a part of our relationship and colour your thinking as we got to know each other."

I nodded. It answered some questions that had been nagging at me, but I was still quite stunned by the wealth that was dramatically evident.

We must have sat there for a couple of minutes before the front door opened and a tall, slim, elegant, middle-aged woman stepped out, moving toward us. Astrid opened her door and greeted the woman.

"Hello, Crystal. Nice to see you again." The two women hugged, but it wasn't a close, familiar embrace. It looked stiff, if not awkward. 

"Hello, Astrid. This must be your friend, Rick." She walked around the front of the car to greet me with a hug as well. For whatever reason, I didn't sense the stiffness I saw in her previous embrace. 

"Hi, Crystal. Nice to meet you."

"Come in, come in. You can get your bags later. Your father will be right down, Astrid," the woman announced over her shoulder as she led the way into the large foyer. 

I entered the home and was overwhelmed by the grandeur and décor. It was indeed a mansion. Two curved staircases wound up to a second floor -- one at each end of the huge room. Giant windows and multiple French doors covered the entire back wall, providing plenty of light into the room. The view looked over an indoor-outdoor pool and the back gardens.

The furnishings looked elegant and expensive. Mahogany and marble everywhere. The walls featured large paintings, appropriate for this giant room. No doubt they were originals. I turned as I heard a man's voice bellow a greeting to Astrid.

"Hello, Tiddly. Come here and give me a big hug and a kiss," he boomed. 

He was a big man, well over six feet with a stocky build. A shock of white hair and ruddy complexion framed the big smile on his face as he held his arms wide to embrace his daughter.

"Tiddly?" I must have voiced the question. 

Crystal turned to me with a smile. "It's his nickname for her when she was little. She pretends she doesn't like it, but its part of their special communication."

I nodded understanding. We all had pet names from our parents when we were little. Most of us lost them when we were six or seven. 

I waited until father and daughter finished before walking toward this imposing man.

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Richard Campbell." I decided to start with formality and see what happened.

"I thought your name was Rick?" he said with a curious look.

"It is," Astrid jumped in. "He's just being careful, Father."

"Relax, Rick. I haven't eaten or eviscerated any of Astrid's boyfriends in ... oh ... months," he laughed.

"Glad to hear it," I smiled. His hand shake was firm, but not painful. His hands were huge and he was obviously fairly fit. It would be good to be on friendly terms with this man.

"Why don't I show you around the house while Astrid and her father are getting reacquainted?" Crystal suggested, taking my hand.

"Sure." 

It dawned on me who this man was. Her father was Henrik Rasmussen, lumber baron and self-made mega-millionaire. Half the north-central part of the province was under his company's control. He had masterminded the harvesting of the dead trees left after the devastation of the pine beetle infestation. 

Having assimilated that information, I now knew the love of my life was in a class I was not accustomed to. She was undoubtedly a very wealthy heiress, and yet she gave no hint of it. She didn't live that lifestyle and she didn't sound like any of this was important to her.

"Kind of overwhelming, isn't it?" Crystal said, turning to me.

"She never said a word. I had no idea." 

"Good for her. Do you know you're the first man she's ever brought home to meet us?"

"No. But, she's been saying she hasn't had much luck with guys. I suppose the wealth issue would colour any guy's thinking. Throw in the fact that she's a very beautiful woman ... well ... it might bring out the worst in some."

"You don't seem to be affected by it."

"I didn't know about it until a few minutes ago. I haven't had time to absorb it."

We walked upstairs and she showed me the bedrooms, the sitting room, and the numerous bathrooms. It was all very ostentatious and elegant. Naturally, I was impressed, but... I was also still in a state of confusion.

"Are you in love with Astrid?" Crystal asked as we walked toward the staircase.

"Yes." I was surprised at how easily I answered her. I was often asking myself that same question recently. 

Crystal took my hand and squeezed it. "Good. I'm glad. She needs someone like you. She's very lonely, you know."

I looked at her with what I'm sure must have been a questioning gaze.

"I don't mean that in terms of you. I mean ... she's had a difficult time ... growing up. When she lost her mother at age five, she was devastated. When I married her father four years later, it was as if I was preventing her mother from ever coming back. Her father had replaced her mother. In a young child, that can be very traumatic. I think that's the reason she and I don't have a close relationship.

"She told me about the hard time she gave you ... when she was a teenager, I mean."

"Yes ... it was like an armed truce. Both of us loved her father, so we hid much of our conflict from him." 

We had been standing at the top of one of the staircases as we talked. There was no sign of Astrid or her father. 

"I think she needs to make her peace with you," I suggested. "I don't think she'll ever be happy until she does."

Now it was Crystal's turn to look at me with a questioning face.

"I'd be happy to hear how you plan to make that happen," she said. "I've been trying for fifteen years without success."

I shook my head. "I don't know. I don't know if it's even possible, but I want to give it a try for a couple of reasons."

"And they are?"

"Maybe I'm getting the cart before the horse. Tell me about you and Mr. Rasmussen."

She looked at me with a slow shake of her head, sending her jet-black hair swaying.

"I've known Henrik for over twenty two years. I was his secretary, then his personal assistant. When his wife died, I helped him run the company. I'd always been attracted to him, but he was hands-off as far as I was concerned. I wasn't going to break up a marriage that was made in heaven. 

"When Paula died, Henrik had a hell of a time coping. He was devastated. I kind of held things together for him when he wasn't able to. I guess, four years later, we both knew it was time for us. He was still a young man and I had secretly been in love with him for years. I finally found the courage to tell him. He told me he felt the same for me. We've celebrated every moment of our time together."

I knew Crystal was no trophy wife. She was the genuine article. I began to plot how to change Astrid's view of her.

"Sometimes, a third party can make a difference," I suggested. "Besides, I need to understand Astrid better myself. There are some things about her that bother me. One of them is what I've been thinking of as a lack of passion."

Crystal tightened her grip on my hand. "You've seen that too?"

"Yes. And it worries me. I don't believe it's possible to love someone without passion. There has to be some intensity. It can't just be sexual attraction. That's what I don't see in Astrid."

"But you love her and you're together and she's happy?" Crystal tried.

"All that's true. But ... think about yourself and Henrik. There must be something there that's feeding back to you. It can't all be one way."

She was nodding. "Yes. I love him and I'm never in doubt that he loves me. It isn't what he says ... it's the way he acts. Every day. All the time. It takes away all doubt."

"Yeah ... that's what I mean. I see that in my parents and I've promised myself that I won't settle for anything less. Astrid is a wonderful, beautiful, bright, alive woman. But ... I don't know whether she loves me or just wants me for her security. A man that she can be ... in 'like' with."

Crystal stared at me for the longest time. "You are pretty deep for a young man. I wonder how I can help you?"

I shook my head. "I think Astrid has to help herself. She needs to know that it's all right to take down the barriers and let herself go. To give completely of herself. To be passionate about some one ... or even some thing. As wonderful as it is to be with her, we won't last if she can't release that passion."

"I hope you can make that happen. I can't think of anyone that is better suited for her than you. You are a perfect counterfoil to her self-assured shell. If there's anything that I can do ... just ask."




Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 03



"Thank you, Crystal. I haven't had time to work out how to approach this. I may fail. It may not be part of Astrid's nature to give it all up. I hope I'm going to be successful. She's too important to me not to try.

"I'm a beginner at relationships and I'm no psychologist. I might be a million miles wrong. I don't want to do anything to lose her. But ... somehow, I have to get her to tell me she loves me so that I believe she truly means it. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, Rick. It makes all the sense in the world. For someone who doesn't have much experience, you've learned a lot in a hurry," she smiled. 

"Yeah. Astrid is an incredible woman. A fantasy, almost. Did you know that we got together when she asked me out on a date?"

"Yes, Henrik told me. That's Astrid. She'd probably sized you up at some point before she ever approached you. That's her style. I'm sure it can be intimidating to some guys." 

I was nodding my agreement as she spoke. "I told her the other day that I felt like a prize bull at a livestock auction."

Crystal burst into a hearty laugh, her head thrown back. "Well you know what's expected from a prize bull, don't you?"

"Yeah. Do I ever."

Dinner that evening was noisy. Lots of talk and laughter and good food. I discovered that Crystal did all the cooking and she was very good. I hoped I hadn't made a pig of myself when I could barely manage a small piece of her "Death by Chocolate" dessert. 

I was able to relax since Henrik accepted me so readily. I don't know whether Crystal said anything to him, but he treated me as an equal and I never for one moment thought I wasn't welcome in that house. After the meal, Crystal went to the kitchen to clean up and Astrid to her room to unpack. Henrik and I retreated to his study-cum-library.

"You have captured my daughter, Rick," he said with a slight European accent. We were each nursing a very fine cognac and feeling very mellow. 

"I have to confess, sir, I am in love with her." 

"I can see that. In her own way, she is in love with you too." 

"In her own way?"

"She does not easily surrender herself, Rick. When her mother died, something died in little Astrid. All these years I have wanted her to be happy. To find love and be as happy as Crystal and I are. She is holding back some part of herself. I don't know why. Perhaps she is afraid of being hurt again. 

"I hope you can unlock that door. You, or someone like you. You are genuine, I think. You did not know of her wealth, or who I was. Yes ... she is beautiful, but I also know this about her. She does not suffer fools gladly, as my English friends would say. 

"She had never had a serious relationship with any man until you came along. If you are wondering how I know this ... she talks to me on the telephone ... every week. I've known about you from the day she invited you to the Christmas party. I hope you aren't offended."

"No ... no ... not at all. I'm glad she's been keeping in touch with you. That's good. I wish I could convince her to give Crystal a chance. I think she would be good for her if only Astrid would let her."

The silver-haired man nodded. "Yes. It's very sad. I understand some of it, but ... it's been so long now. So long since her mother died. Sooner or later, she has to let go. Let her mother rest in peace."

We sat in silence for a while, savoring the brandy, each of us lost in thought. 

"Astrid and my mother have become quite close," I said.

"She told me. Eleanor ... that is her name?"

"Yes."

"I must invite your parents here. I would like to meet them. I understand you father plays golf?"

"Yes. He's a member at University Club."

"Good. I belong to Shaughnessy. Perhaps we can have a game together."

"I'll leave that to you two," I said, before voicing my thoughts. "Maybe we're getting ahead of ourselves. As much as I love Astrid, I need to believe that she loves me with the same ... intensity."

Henrik smiled. "I have confidence in you, Rick. I'm very good at sizing people up quite quickly. I believe you are bringing out the best in Astrid. I don't know how or when ... but I am confident things will work out." With that, he sat back in his chair, a comfortable smile on his face as he swirled his cognac in its snifter. 

As with my parents, there was no pretense that Astrid and I were not intimate. Our bedroom was located at the farthest end of the mansion from the master suite. Overhearing Astrid's orgasmic cries would not likely be a problem. 

"What do you think of my father?" Astrid asked as she snuggled into my chest that night.

"I like him. He's genuine and very straightforward. He and I have some common interests in European economics. He virtually insisted I give him a verbal version of my graduate essay."

"Good. I knew you would. I've been telling him all about you."

"Yes ... so I hear."

"Does that bother you?"

"No. Not at all. I've been telling my parents about you. Fair is fair."

"Daddy says I've chosen well."

I didn't respond. There it was again, her "choosing." It was my turn now.

"I had a long talk with Crystal this afternoon. I have to tell you, I really like her. I think you would too if you gave her half a chance."

"She's OK, I guess. I'm kind of getting used to her," she sighed.

"Damned by faint praise."

"What?"

"If I told you that Crystal loves your father with all the passion and devotion that my parents love each other, would you believe it?"

"I don't know. I've never thought about it."

"She does, you know. And your father gives it right back to her ... in spades."

"How do you know this?"

"I can see how they are together and I know from talking to both of them that they are very deeply in love with each other. That doesn't mean that your father has forgotten your mother. It means that he has accepted that he has a life to live that your mother couldn't share. He's made that life with Crystal and never regretted it. She feels exactly the same way."

Astrid was silent. I rolled toward her and saw the tears and felt her shoulders shake with her sobs. It was the first time I had ever seen Astrid show raw emotion. I upset her with my comments. It wasn't what she wanted to believe. I wondered if I had damaged our relationship. I put my hand gently on her shoulder.

It took a while, but the sobs subsided and the tears stopped and eventually, Astrid rolled to face me.

"Do you love me, Rick?"

"You know I do."

"I need you, Rick. I need you to make love to me. I need you to tell me that you love me. I need you to be with me every day. Can I count on you, Rick?"

"Yes, Astrid. You can count on me," I said softly as I pulled her to me.

She didn't need to encourage me. Just her presence ... her soft, lovely skin, her scent, her beautiful body. I was erect and ready for whatever she wanted. She wasn't in the mood for aggressive sex. She wanted something slower and more intimate. 

I pulled her on top of me and she soon propped herself up on her knees and took me in her hand, guiding me to her center. Within seconds, I was inside, feeling the heat of her body on my cock. She collapsed onto my chest and we slowly began to move in rhythm. I was happy with this. I felt I could last a long time and Astrid seemed to be content with this pace as well. 

I have no idea how many times I have made love to Astrid since we came together last December. Countless, but each of them has been unique and inspiring. Astrid continued to teach me whenever she thought it necessary, and I was a willing student. But tonight was something unusual. There was another component to our joining. Something new. Something different.

We were floating on an erotic cloud. I was barely moving in her. Each little movement elicited a soft moan from Astrid. There was a contentment about her that I hadn't felt before. I couldn't ever recall experiencing this kind of sexual satisfaction in quite this way. It was peaceful and loving and I would have been happy for it to carry on endlessly.

"Oh, lover. This is so nice," she whispered.

"Mmmmmm." 

"I think we can go on forever like this."

"Mmmmmm."

"I can feel your heartbeat, lover," she said softly as her head came up, kissing me gently. "It's very slow. That's good."

It was what I imagined being in suspended animation would be like, yet it was more intense and erotic than I had ever experienced. I wondered briefly if this was what Tantric sex was like. I was sensing a deeper connection to Astrid. A spiritual connection? It required no effort. It felt almost as if we were becoming one being, in perfect harmony with each other.

I was lost in the ecstasy of this woman's charms. I was a follower, not a leader. And yet, for the first time, she wasn't leading. We were in perfect unison. Two bodies, one purpose. I wanted Astrid to have the intense pleasure that I was enjoying. I wanted to give that to her.

"Oh ... oh ... Rick ... this is so ... amazing," she crooned. 

I knew that she was experiencing what I was. She was just as much in awe of the incredible experience we were sharing. This wasn't sex. It was making love. It defined what making love meant. We had discovered a new place in our relationship.

When it ended, it didn't end with some earth-shattering orgasm for either of us. It ended much as it started, with our arms around each other, holding tight and rocking back and forth gently. I was still inside her, but softening now. We experienced something powerfully different and we both recognized it.

"We have to come back here again, Rick. This was too good not to find it again." 

"I've never felt anything like that ... ever. Amazing!" I agreed. I wondered if we accidentally found something I had only read about in books.



Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 04



When I awoke the next morning, I was once again facing toward her. The sun was up and sunlight coming through the sheer curtains gave the room a pale cream tint. Astrid was facing me and once again I marveled at her beauty. My thoughts went back to the previous night and the breakthrough I thought we achieved. 

I had challenged her about her ongoing conflict with Crystal and it provoked the first sign of emotion in her that I could remember seeing. What followed with our lovemaking, however, was something I was completely unprepared for. Was it a coincidence?

Her eyes flickered briefly before opening. My face was the first thing she saw and once again, she displayed "that smile." 

"Mornin', lover." It was a replay of our first morning together, except this time I wasn't holding my breath in concern over her reaction.

"Good morning to you."

As she had so many times before, she pulled herself into me and lay there with our arms around each other as she slowly woke. I don't think I'll ever get over just how powerful was the emotion she created in me with that simple gesture.

We rose, showered, dressed, and headed for the kitchen. Crystal and Henrik were already up and dressed, sitting at the banana-shaped counter on the tall stools, side-by-side. They looked fresh and well-rested.

"Good morning," Henrik boomed, while Crystal added her greetings. 

Breakfast was laid out on the counter; cereal, toast, yogurt, fresh fruit, juice. All very healthy and typical of what Astrid and I were used to. We helped ourselves.

As we sat on the stools next to her parents, I noticed a television above the pantry door, tuned to a news channel. Henrik was keeping an eye on it, but the sound was off in favor of closed-captioning.

"Do you play golf, Rick?" he asked.

"Sir, I haven't played ten games since I left college. My travels during summer and getting ready to become a teacher took up most of my time."

"Not to mention my daughter," he laughed.

"Yeah ... that too," I agreed, turning to Astrid and giving her a peck on the cheek.

"I have a game this afternoon and we're short one for a foursome. Would you like to join us?"

"Ummmm ... gee ... I don't want to embarrass you. I wouldn't know what to expect from my game these days. Besides, I don't have any clubs here."

"Not to worry. I have a couple of sets for just such an emergency. And as far as your game goes, the other two in our group will be lucky to break a hundred. We're not all Fred Couples, you know."

"That's very kind of you. I'd enjoy a chance to play Shaughnessy. It's a very fine course. Thank you for the invitation," I said turning to Astrid, hoping I hadn't put my foot in it.

"Will you be OK, Astrid? I don't mean to abandon you."

"Of course. You and Daddy go and have a good time. Crystal and I can find something to do." 

I glanced over Astrid's shoulder and saw the surprise register on Crystal and Henrik's faces. I may have shown it too, but Astrid didn't react.

"I'm going to go over to my folk's house to get some golf shoes. Do you want to come, Astrid?"

"Sure. It'll give me a chance to get more dirt on you from your mother," she giggled.

"Oh, great. Maybe I'll just play in my hiking boots." There was general laughter around the counter as we continued to enjoy breakfast and our morning coffee.

Henrik was going to his office for the morning, but gave me instructions on when and where to meet him at his club. He would sign me in as a guest. He loaned me a nice set of Calloway woods and irons and he sported a collection of almost every kind of putter. Apparently, putting was his weak spot and he was continually looking for the magic stick that would solve it all.

I thought it wise to head for the driving range to hit a few balls and make sure I didn't embarrass myself. I stuffed the clubs into my trunk, held the door for Astrid, and drove toward my parents' home.

We didn't stay long. I found a pair of my dry weather Foot-Joy's and cleaned them up as best I was able. I told Mom about Astrid's family and who her father was. I would talk to them later about having the two families meet. Mom was pretty surprised at this turn of events. The thought that her future daughter might be wealthy had never entered her mind either.

Astrid sat and watched me as I hit a small bucket of balls on the practice range. It didn't take me too long to get some sort of swing back, and while I wasn't crushing my drives, I was at least hitting them fairly straight. I was pretty sure my short game would be hopeless after all these months of inactivity. At one time, I almost earned a single digit handicap, but that was five years ago. I would be happy to break a hundred today.

"You hit the ball well, Rick," Astrid observed as we walked back to the car.

"Not bad, considering. Did you ever play golf?"

"A bit, when I was a teenager. Dad wanted me to learn. I took some lessons, but I guess I was interested in other things and I kind of dropped it."

"Since I'm starting over too, we should find a Par 3 and play nine holes ... just for fun and exercise."

"OK. That sounds like fun. You can help me find my ball when it disappears," she laughed.

"Do you know if I'm expected for lunch?"

"Crystal said she was going to make some sandwiches and wrap them for you. You can take them with you if you're late."

"That's nice of her. I hope you're not going to be too bored this afternoon. I should have asked you if you were OK with me playing golf with your dad."

"You don't need my permission. Besides, I want you and Daddy to get to know each other. I think he likes you already."

"Yeah. We seem to have a lot to talk about, anyway. He's very down-to-earth, considering."

"Considering what?" Astrid looked a bit miffed.

"Well ... you know ... him being an important man and he spends a lot of time with important people."

"Hummphf! Daddy doesn't have a stuck-up bone in his body. He came from a very ordinary background. His father was a furniture-maker in Denmark and he made it the hard way here in Canada. Daddy started in the woods in the logging camps and worked his way up. So, you aren't dealing with royalty!" she exclaimed with a forceful snap of her head.

"Oh ... sorry ... didn't mean to imply ... I mean ... sorry," I finished lamely.

She gave me a cold stare, but couldn't hold it. She began to laugh.

"You take this all so seriously, Rick. Relax. Daddy likes you. Crystal likes you. I love you. What more do you want?"

I was holding on to the steering wheel as we drove toward her home, staring straight ahead. Astrid, knowingly or not, just said she loved me. I wonder if she realized the impact that had on me. I looked over to her and I guess I must have smiled, because she smiled back. 

We arrived at the big home and within a couple of minutes Crystal served a plate of sandwiches for us at the counter. I washed them down with a glass of milk, kissed Astrid goodbye, telling them to have a good afternoon, and scooted out the door to my car. I couldn't wait to find out what the two of them would be doing this afternoon. I was keeping my fingers crossed that there would be some kind of accommodation made by Astrid with her stepmother. 

I arrived at Shaughnessy and found Henrik already there, having changed in the locker room. I handed over my clubs to be mounted on the power cart at the pro shop. It wasn't five minutes later that I was introduced to our playing partners. Now I was intimidated. 

A tall, slim man in his middle forties turned out to be Bill Carsworthy, Deputy Minister of Forests for the provincial government. His playing partner was Milo Remple, short, balding, but fit. A lawyer and chief advocate for the environmental movement. A "tree hugger," I thought.

Both men were members, but both were high handicappers -- mid-twenties. I learned Henrik was a fifteen, so I wasn't out of my league I hoped. I agreed to play to an eighteen, since I was just picking a number out of thin air. On the basis of the handicaps, I was paired with Milo against Bill and Henrik. On paper, it should have been fairly even.

I don't remember quite as much about the game as I usually would. I hit the ball well, and kept it on the fairway for the most part. My short game, as expected, was erratic. Milo and I scrambled well, however. We never got behind by more than one hole. I conveniently had my bad holes while Milo was having his good ones, and vice versa. 

Henrik played to his handicap, but Bill struggled with his drives and was too often trying to make a miraculous recovery shot. I'd been there in the past and I knew how futile that was. At the end of the game, we were all even. I was very happy with that result. I checked my score and saw that I shot a ninety-three. That was a pleasant surprise. 

Everyone agreed it was a tight, enjoyable match, but to have it end in a tie wasn't good enough. There would be a putting contest to determine who would be declared the victor.

Four hours or so of being with these three high-powered men was entertaining on its own. Milo was the furthest thing from a "tree hugger." He understood the economics of the industry and was forever trying to reconcile the radical anti-industry forces with the industry itself. He greatly admired Henrik because he understood there must be a balance, and it didn't mean that industry should be allowed to do whatever was convenient to make a profit.

Milo told me that he spent many long hours with Henrik working out the logistics of salvaging the pine beetle damaged wood, leaving the healthy trees untouched. It was, in Milo's opinion, one of the most important ecological strategies ever conceived in the industry. He told me that if he never achieved another thing in his career, he would be happy with that one victory.

Bill, on the other hand, was being very careful with his comments. As Deputy Minister, he was responsible for directing legislation for the Minister, but also advising him if there were any pitfalls or serious economic consequences in their decisions. He trod a fine line. His contacts with Milo and Henrik were critical to helping him give the Minister good advice. He was careful to be close ... but not too close.

I was being permitted an inside view of the number two industry in the province. It was hard not to be excited at being part of the conversations between these three important men. I kept quiet and listened. It was hard. There were so many questions I would have liked to have asked. 

We met on the practice putting green a few minutes after finishing and the suspense didn't last very long. Bill sank a snaking twenty footer and the match was over. I handed Bill and Henrik their winnings happily. I enjoyed an afternoon to remember, and the twenty dollar cost was nothing compared to the value I'd received.

Bill and Milo joined us at the 19th hole for a drink, and left shortly thereafter. I didn't contain my enthusiasm any longer.

"That was amazing, Henrik. I think I learned more about the industry in one golf game than I ever knew."

"You are a very good listener, Rick. I think that's why you are good at what you do ... teaching. I hope you had fun as well as becoming informed."

"Yes. I was pleased with my score, considering. I have to admit though, the company was more fascinating than my golf game."

"These are important men, it's true. I have worked hard to build a good relationship with the ministry. I don't ask for special favors, but I want to have my voice heard in the right places. The minister listens to those voices. Bill is a very bright man. Milo is also. I can never be close to Bill, but Milo ... we are good friends. I don't see him as the enemy. He is my watchdog."

We sat in the spring sunshine, enjoying the late afternoon. 

"I have invited the ladies to join us here tonight for dinner," Henrik said.

"Oh ... great. But ... I'm not sure I'm appropriately dressed."

"Do not worry. Astrid will bring you a change and you can use the locker room to shower. They should be here in a few minutes."

I was still in a state of over-stimulation from my afternoon with the power elite of the forest industry. I was getting an inside look at how policy was formed and just how subtle Henrik Rasmussen was. As we relaxed, another thought came to me.

"What do you suppose happened with Crystal and Astrid this afternoon?" I posed.

Henrik shook his head. "We can only hope, Rick. By the way ... did you say something to her about Crystal?"

I wasn't going to lie. "Yes. Last night, I pushed her a bit. I suggested that she needed to give Crystal a break. Try to understand how much she loved you and you loved her. It didn't mean you loved her mother any less ... but she was gone and that part of your life was in the past. I'm afraid at the time I thought that I might have been too hard on her. I told her I liked Crystal and that I thought she should give her a chance. She got quite emotional."

"Were you surprised by what she said this morning about finding something to do with Crystal this afternoon?" Henrik asked.

"Very. But it may have come from last night. I'm anxious to see what happens when they arrive."

We didn't have long to wait. The women arrived shortly before six. They were dressed in very spring-like fashion and their clothes looked very similar.

"Ah ... you look very lovely, ladies," Henrik saluted with a big grin.

"Thank you," Crystal replied, turning to me a giving me a wink, unseen by Astrid. "How was your game?"

"Great. I learned more about the forest industry than I could have anywhere else." 

"It cost you twenty dollars," Henrik grinned.

"Cheap at ten times the price," I flipped back.

Astrid had yet to say anything but moved to me and kissed me, handing me a garment bag with my clothing change. She was a bit subdued, I thought.

"So, what did you girls get up to this afternoon?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

"Shopping!" Crystal laughed. "What else do women do when they have time on their hands?"

I saw a big smile break out on Astrid's face and I began to relax. Up to that point, I wondered if there was a problem, but now I was reasonably confident there wasn't.

The three left for the dining room while I went downstairs to the locker room for a quick shower and a change. I was back within ten minutes and was directed to their table by the maitre d'. Henrik took the liberty of ordering me a beer. 

I was sitting beside Crystal and Henrik with Astrid opposite me. We were having a light conversation when Crystal slipped her hand under the table and reached for mine, squeezing it when she found it resting on my thigh. She never once looked at me, but I suspected the afternoon was a success for her, and she wanted me to know it.

We ordered our meals and continued to talk about everything but business. Astrid joined in and I felt she was coming back to her normal self. I was so used to her optimism and lively personality, anything less was discomforting. 

"So, Astrid, what did you buy this afternoon," I asked, hoping for a little more information about her day.

"This dress, silly. Crystal and I saw them in a shop at Oakridge and we couldn't resist. Do you like them?"

"Yes, I do very much. They are very flattering on you both."

"I agree," Henrik chimed in.

"We also found some other things I'll show you later," she said with more than a bit of innuendo. The raised eyebrow and the smirk were a giveaway.

Crystal laughed. "You'll get your turn later, Henrik." The two women turned to each other with a look I considered conspiratorial. 

I caught Henrik tapping the edge of my foot with his shoe and trying his best not to look at me in surprise. I think he was thinking what I was thinking. Something had changed in the relationship between Astrid and Crystal. I very much wanted to find out, but I knew I should be patient and let Astrid tell me. I would get Crystal's account later, but I wanted to know what Astrid was thinking and feeling.

The dinner was excellent and we relaxed as we shared a bottle of very nice Bordeaux. I must have been lost in my thoughts because it took a poke by Crystal to get my attention.

"What? Sorry ... I wasn't paying attention."

"I was asking if you would stay until Sunday."

"If it's OK with Astrid, it's fine with me as long as we aren't imposing on your hospitality.

"Of course you aren't," Crystal said with an exasperated look. 

Astrid, for her part, was almost laughing at me. "I told you, Crystal. He's almost too polite." Crystal pasted on a mock frown, then shook her head in reluctant agreement. Their relationship had definitely improved.

It was dark outside as Henrik signed the chit and we rose to leave. Astrid slipped her arm though mine and gave me a kiss on the cheek as we walked toward the entrance. She was pressing the side of her breast against my elbow and doing my composure no good at all. Her father and Crystal were in front of us, so I incautiously bumped her with my hip. She gave it right back immediately. It was one of her signals that she was in a playful mood.

When we retired just before eleven, Astrid was quick to attack me. 

"Lover, you have to look after me ... soon," she pleaded. 

She was undressing as quickly as she was able and I was right behind her. We had been together long enough that I knew the signs of "Astrid in Hornyland." She dove onto the bed, naked and face down, her head turned to the side, watching me ... waiting for me.

I followed her onto the bed, running my hand over her amazing butt cheeks, squeezing them gently. Her hand snaked underneath my groin and grasped my quickly swelling cock. It didn't take much for this woman to make me hard. I rose up and straddled her lower legs, still with her backside up. I pulled her by the hips, telling her by this that I wanted to enter her from behind. She turned her head and gave me a wanton look. 

It took very little effort to pull her to me, making her glistening sex available. She was already wet in anticipation and I wasted no time in beginning to push my way in. With her head on the pillow, face down, she reached back as far back as she was able, grasping my hips, urging me forward. Then, without warning, she rose up on her hands and rammed herself back onto me.

I almost lost it right on the spot. This was going to be one of her demanding nights but now I knew how to handle her. I slapped her ass cheeks, once on each side. Not hard, but enough to get her attention. I grabbed her hips and drove myself all they way in, knowing from experience that she was able to take it. I pulled back, almost out of her then drove back in forcefully. Her grunt of satisfaction combined with the smack of our flesh was the only sound. 

Hardly a word was exchanged between us since we entered the bedroom, but we knew each other so well by now, none was necessary. The grunts and groans and keening cries of Astrid told me that this was exactly what she wanted. I was driving deeply into her with a relentless rhythm; long stokes ... hard in ... slow out. I couldn't see her face. It was buried in the pillow, her hands a bloodless white in a vise-grip on the edges of the foam cushion. 

I kept it up for some time until I was confident she orgasmed at least once. I began to slow the pace; more to extend myself than from any desire to lessen the intensity. I heard the wet, squishy sounds we were making as I slipped in and out of her. I also heard her soft cries of satisfaction as I continued. 

At last, I wasn't able to hold back any longer, and I picked up the pace as I drove to the finish. Astrid knew instinctively what was happening and was slamming her ass back at me in harmony, making loud smacking sounds. When I came, it was with a primal cry and several smaller grunts as I spilled my semen into her. I felt her shake and shiver soon afterwards and knew she was finished as well.




Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 04



We collapsed onto the bed, breathing deeply, but smiling and holding each other. We lay there for several minutes.

Astrid got up and went into the ensuite. She was back in a few minutes, flopping down beside me with a content expression.

"When are you going to show me what you bought this afternoon," I asked. 

She jumped up with a look of surprise. "I almost forgot. Wait 'till you see." She scrambled off the bed and went to her closet, dragging out a large shopping bag. The fancy script on the bag read Elegant Nights.

She pounced back on the bed, dumping the contents of the bag on both the bed and me. As I propped myself up, I saw that almost everything was some form of lingerie or nightwear. 

"Model them," I said in a somewhat demanding tone.

She looked at the scattered garments and chose what looked like a bra and panty set in a soft satin green. Jumping off the bed once more, she ran into her closet, closing the door so that I couldn't see. What this was supposed to accomplish, I don't know. She was already naked.

Yet, when she pushed the door open and strutted out of the closet, acting for all the world like a stripper on a runway, I had to admit it was very sexy. The set left nothing to the imagination. I clearly saw her nipples and areola through the sheer material, as well as her neatly trimmed vaginal hair. But the colour and satin sheen of the material turned what might have been trashy into something very erotic. I loved it.

"That ... is ... incredible! You have no idea how sexy that looks on you."

"Yes I do. Crystal said the same thing when we were in the dressing room."

"You two were in the dressing room ... together ... naked?"

"Well, we couldn't very well model them out in the store, could we? Besides, we had to leave our panties on. Store rules."

I was shaking my head. By inference, something dramatic took place between the two women and although Henrik and I got a hint of it earlier in the evening, I doubt either of us would have expected anything like this.

"Crystal bought a set just like this one in a dusty rose colour. It looked amazing on her. Daddy is going to freak when he sees her in it." She said it all so matter-of-factly that I don't think she understood just what a quantum leap she made.

"Astrid ... come here," I said, holding my hands out to her.

She came, smiling shyly and I pulled her into my arms as we sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Tell me all about it." 

She wore a wrinkled look on her face for a few seconds until it dissolved and I saw the tears begin and the sobs shake her. I let her have a few moments uninterrupted until she gathered herself.

"I apologized, Rick. I apologized for all the rotten things I did and said and thought. I apologized for making things hard for her and for hurting her." She paused, wiping away a trickling tear. "She forgave me, Rick. After all I did to her, she forgave me. How am I supposed to hate someone who does that?" she cried.

I pulled her closer to me. "You've done something very important today, love. You took the first step. I'm proud of you. It's one of the thousand reasons I love you."

She sniffed and pulled back from me slightly. "I felt so much better after I did. We were in the kitchen, crying like little kids and ... and ... it all just came out. I didn't want to disappoint you. I knew you wanted this. It was something I had to do. Now ... I'm glad."

"You did this for me?" I was unprepared for this.

"You made me understand. I was angry with Crystal because as long as she was with Daddy, Mommy wouldn't come back. I know that sounds crazy, but ... that's what it felt like. You told me that, but I wasn't ready to hear it. But it was something you wanted, Rick. And if you wanted it, I would do whatever I could to make you happy."

I was stunned. She had finally accepted her mother's death and Crystal's marriage to her father. But she did so because she thought it was what I wanted. She broke down a fifteen year barrier because she saw it as important to me and therefore important to her. This was a very different Astrid.

I was holding her tightly as these thoughts raced through my mind. The right result ... but for the right reason? I wasn't sure. It was an unselfish act. More importantly, she felt good about the outcome. It wasn't just a truce. Something much more developed between the two women. I wasn't convinced it was a mother-daughter relationship. Maybe more like sisters.

"Do you want me to model some of the other things?" she asked as I held her in my arms. 

"Why don't we save them? You can surprise me with a new one tomorrow, and again the next day and maybe longer by the look of all these things," I said, picking up a nearly non-existent thong.

"OK," she said, bouncing off the bed and gathering up the scattered pieces of her shopping trip.

"Did Crystal get some of this as well?"

She looked at me and laughed. "I'm not supposed to tell, but let's just say Daddy won't be bored for some time to come."

"Good for her. I hope your father's heart is up to it."

"Don't worry. Crystal takes good care of him."

"I think he and I are two of the luckiest guys around."

She walked back to the bed after putting the bag back in the closet. She climbed on, straddling my lap as she liked to do. "Do you think you can give me an encore?"

"Do you think I'm dumb enough to say no?"

"Well then, I have a special request."

"Oh ... pray tell ... what does m'lady desire?"

"I want some more of what we did last night. You know, that Tantric thing you talked about."

"That was something special, wasn't it?"

"I've been thinking about it all day. It was such an incredible experience. I was trying to explain it to Crystal, but she'd never heard of it."

"So ... you were talking to Crystal about our sex life?"

"Yeah ... are you upset?"

"I don't know ... I suppose not. It's just such a shock to see how much your relationship with her has changed in such a short time. Now you're into sharing sex secrets? Yikes!"

She laughed lightly. "It just felt so natural. Once we got talking, we couldn't tell each other enough about our men. You were right, of course. Crystal loves Daddy forever. And I love you that way too. I can't think of what I'd do if I didn't have you in my life."

Now I was truly shocked. The ambitious, calculating, outgoing Astrid was confessing her love for me. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time she'd defined it. I was dizzy with surprise and happiness. Somehow, I worked two miracles in one day. I might just quit teaching and go into the relationship business. 

"Say that again." I needed to be sure.

"What? You mean the part about I love you ... or the part about I wouldn't know what to do without you?" She wore a funny grin on her face that was hard to read.

"Yeah ... that ... both."

She bent down and she pushed me down on the bed, following me down to kiss me. It was a deep, passionate kiss. Yes! Passionate! Just what I was waiting for.

"I love you, Richard Campbell. I love everything about you. I love how you love me. How you care for me. How you care for others around you. I love being in love with you. I love every moment I spend with you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to learn to be a good as you are. Unselfish. Loving. Always looking for the best in people. If I can't have you, I don't know what I'll do. My life won't be worth anything without you."

I lay there blinking, almost in disbelief. It was as if she'd opened the floodgates and allowed all her emotions to pour out at one time. I was overwhelmed. I'm sure I must have shown a stupid grin because Astrid was smiling. There were no tears, but I saw her eyes glistening. I reached for her and she slowly collapsed onto my chest.

We tried hard to duplicate what we achieved the night before and while it was lovely and gentle and fulfilling, it wasn't quite the same. It was a shame considering all the marvelous happenings on this day, especially her confession of love for me. If nothing else, my mind was at peace and I now knew what came next.

"How many children?" I asked as we lay in each other's arms.

Her head popped up, and funny look with a wrinkled brow. She didn't answer right away.

"Sorry, Astrid. I got ahead of myself. Let me start all over again." I paused, sat up and took her hand in mine.

"Astrid Rasmussen, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

The look on her face was priceless. Not so much surprise, but ... maybe ... relief? 

"Yes ... yes ... yes ... yes!" She was wrapping her arms around my neck as she agreed, over and over again. It was as long, soulful kiss to confirm her answer.

"Which brings me to the next question. Do you want children?"

"Of course I do," she answered indignantly.

"OK, then. Now, we're back where I started. How many children?"

She looked thoughtful before she answered. "I know we both come from only-child backgrounds, but I would like two ... maybe even three. Is that OK?" She looked quite unsure.

I laughed. "It's exactly what I was hoping you would say." We were hugging and kissing again.

"When can we tell our parents?" she asked, eyes widening.

"How about tomorrow morning. I'll ask your father for permission of course."

"Wonderful. I don't think you have to worry about his answer. He already thinks very highly of you."

"Astrid. Do you think we're rushing too fast? I mean, we've only known each other for four months. I don't want you to think I'm having second thoughts, but ... this is forever. We need to be sure."

"Richard Campbell. I am sure. Period! All you have to do is make up your mind that you are sure." She said it with such authority that I didn't doubt her for a second. 

"I've never been more sure of anything. I love you, Astrid. I want to marry you, I want to have our children with you, and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives."

"Think we can celebrate again?" she giggled.

"Only with your delightful assistance."

Astrid was her usual wonderfully expert self, and she produced another erection with her tantalizing tongue and lips. This time, I was happy to begin in missionary position, then bending her legs up over my shoulders and increasing the angle and depth of my stroke. I knew Astrid loved this position, but we didn't hold it for long.

It was pretty wild sex, considering it was our third encounter of the evening. We were excited with what took place earlier that evening, and it translated into a somewhat frantic joining. It was, in Astrid's words, a great fuck. When I finally let her down and rolled her over on top of me, we were both exhausted. I was still erect and still deeply buried inside her, but we were barely moving. 

"Oh, baby, you are so good for me," she mumbled.

I stroked her back and cheeks as she lay contented on my chest. I was thinking back to when all this started and shook my head when I realized how far we had come. From my bewildered state when she asked me to take her to the Christmas party to now ... four months later and asking her to marry me. Unbelievable!

We never did finish our last session of lovemaking. Astrid fell asleep and I gently slid her off my chest and onto the bed. Within a minute, I was asleep, dreaming wonderful happy dreams. I was one very contented guy.



Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 05



My thanks to ErikThread for his editing skills and assistance in making this story readable. Any errors are mine.

Chapter 5:

The next morning, I awoke suddenly, memories of the previous night flooding back. I had asked Astrid to marry me. She and Crystal had made peace with each other. I shot 93 while being in the company of very powerful men in the forest industry and government. It didn't seem possible that all this took place in a matter of a few hours.

I lay on my back, thinking rapidly of what I needed to do today. First, I needed to get Henrik alone for a few minutes to ask his permission to marry Astrid. I hoped he hadn't already left for his office. Second, I needed to find a jeweler to buy a ring for Astrid. Third ... no wait ... second, I needed to tell my parents. Then the jeweler. What else? I was having a hard time organizing my thoughts. Too much, too fast. I was busy letting all these random thoughts bounce around in my head when I felt the soft, velvet hand of my fiancée wrap itself gently around my morning erection.

"Hi," she said as she snuggled into me.

"Hi." I was soon running my fingers softly through her curly blonde hair. 

"Was I dreaming or did you ask me to marry you last night?" 

I turned to her and saw the bright eyes and soft smile of a beautiful woman.

"I think we were both dreaming the same dream. I think we should make that dream come true, don't you?"

"Yes, definitely. It's too good to waste a dream as nice as that," she agreed.

I looked over her shoulder and saw that it was a few minutes past seven am. 

"What time does your father go into the office?"

"Not before nine, usually. He says it's one of the 'perqs' of being the boss. He enjoys his time with Crystal at breakfast."

"I'd better get moving and cleaned up if I'm going to ask him for your hand in marriage," I said, rising from the bed and heading for the ensuite. 

Astrid popped up immediately. "Are you really going to ask him?" She appeared genuinely surprised.

"Yes. Did you think I was kidding last night?"

"I don't know. I didn't think about it. I suppose I just assumed it was something you said ... you know ... like a tradition or something."

"It is a tradition. If I know your father, he's a bit 'old school' and he'll appreciate my making the gesture. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?"

"He could say no!" She sounded alarmed.

"Well then, we'll just have to elope," I laughed. I was feeling pretty confident.

I waited for Astrid while she performed her morning ritual and got dressed. We walked downstairs together, entering the kitchen to find Crystal and Henrik at the counter as they were the previous morning.

"Good morning," Henrik greeted us in his hearty voice.

"Good morning," we replied. Astrid kissed her father and then turned to Crystal and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

"Uhmmm ... sir ... can we have a chat in private before you leave for the office?" I asked before I lost my nerve.

"Of course. Help yourself to something and we can meet in my study." There wasn't any hesitation in his voice. 

I would normally start my morning with a glass of juice, but this morning I decided on a coffee, and I quickly poured myself a cup, following Henrik into his study. As I left the kitchen I glanced at Crystal and saw a knowing smile. She couldn't possibly know what I was planning ... or could she? Astrid didn't have time to give her any information, but I knew that three seconds after I left the room, Crystal would know everything.

I walked into Henrik's study and he closed the door behind me. He gestured to a comfortable chair and I sat, trying to gather my thoughts as I did.

"Uhmmm ... sir ... I think you know I'm in love with your daughter." I paused and saw him nod. I held my breath. "I want to ask your permission for your daughter's hand in marriage."

He nodded again, saying nothing. I decided to press on, but I was unnerved with his silent response.

"I love Astrid very much, and I know that we haven't known each other for very long, but ..."

He held up his hand at that point. "Rick, you have my permission. You are both adults, you don't need my consent to fall in love. I haven't known you for very long, but from what Astrid tells me and what I can see with my own eyes ... you will make a very fine son."

I must have breathed a sigh of relief because he almost laughed as I let the trapped air out of my lungs. "Thank you, sir. I'll look after finding a ring today."

Again he held up his hand. "Rick, it's not that simple. I have some conditions that you must understand are important to me, and to Crystal. Please hear me out."

I nodded, suddenly nervous at what these conditions might be.

"First, I want you to give Astrid the ring her mother wore when I asked her to marry me. It is a very old ring and has come down through my family. There won't be any more Rasmussens on our side of the family, so it's important that Astrid have something to remind her of our family. Can you agree to that?"

"Yes, sir. It would be a honour to carry on that tradition."

"Very good. But there are some other more difficult conditions that I must discuss with you." He stopped and sighed before looking directly at me. "Astrid is a very wealthy young woman and will be wealthier still when I'm gone. For this reason, I will insist on a pre-nuptial agreement. It will be fair to you and still protect Astrid. If the marriage fails, you will receive a lump sum payment of five million dollars, provided you have not committed a criminal act, or abused or abandoned her or any children you might have. Can you agree to that?"

"Yes ... but ... I hope you understand. My relationship with Astrid has been about my love for her, not knowing of her wealth. She has never hinted that she possessed this ... dowry. I never thought about it, even last night when I asked her to marry me."

Henrik nodded, but his gaze was riveted on me. 

"We have a good life and we can have a good life, even if I am a school teacher and she is a mother and homemaker. I can't conceive of our not making our marriage a success ... just as my parents have ... just as you and Crystal have. That's the goal that I set for myself. Nothing else will be acceptable."

Henrik smiled. "I believe you. I think my daughter will make you a very happy man, and I'm just as sure you will keep her happy as well."

"Thank you. I promise I will do everything in my power to make that happen."

"If I may ask, how did you convince Astrid to make up with Crystal? My wife was silly with excitement last night. She couldn't wait to tell me what happened after you left for the golf course."

"I didn't, actually. Your daughter decided that if it was something I wanted, it was something she needed to do. When she apologized to Crystal, she realized how much pain she was carrying around with her. I guess it all came out at once. Somehow, when Crystal forgave her, Astrid knew she had done what should have been done a long time ago ... let go of her mother."

"Amazing. We tried so hard to have her accept Crystal, and you accomplish that in one or two days? Amazing! She must truly love you very much. I think we are both very lucky," he concluded.

"Yes. I know I am. I think someone like Astrid comes along once in a lifetime and I thought I'd better catch her when I got the opportunity."

"Have you told your parents yet?"

"No. That's next on my list. I'm sure they're going to be very happy. I know Mom already thinks Astrid is someone special."

"I think I'd better talk to them too. We must get the two families together. This is a very important occasion," Henrik said.

"Yes, well ... I'll leave that to you. My dad's already at work, so I'll call Mom and talk to her. I imagine we'll have a chance to meet them this evening," I suggested.

"Excellent! Why don't we go back to the kitchen and surprise no one," he laughed. 

He smiled and rose, extending his hand. "It will be a pleasure to welcome you to our family. I am pleased to grant my permission with the understanding we have reached this morning."

We shook a hearty handshake as he opened the door and we walked back to the kitchen. As we entered, the two women looked up expectantly.

"Crystal," I began. "I have asked Henrik's permission to marry Astrid and he has granted it." There it was. I said it and no sooner did the words escape my mouth than both Crystal and Astrid jumped off their chairs and scampered toward me, squealing their delight.

I was surrounded by two beautiful women, each trying to hug and kiss me at the same time. Another new experience. I saw Henrik climbing back onto his stool with a mile-wide grin on his face. I relaxed.

"Astrid, it's my turn to have a private word with your future husband," Crystal announced.

Astrid didn't look surprised as she went back to the counter. Crystal took me by the hand and led me back to the study, closing the door behind us. She turned to me and holding her arms wide, pulled me in for a big hug and a kiss on the cheek that went well beyond a peck.

"You know what happened yesterday, don't you?"

"Yes, Astrid told me."

"Do you have any idea how much I love you for that?" 

"I didn't do it. Astrid did."

"It would never have happened without you, Rick. After all these years, you've made all the hurt and pain go away. If she wasn't going to marry you, I would," she half-laughed, half-sobbed.

"I'm just glad it's over," I admitted. "I don't know how it would have affected us, but I know it would have, and that wouldn't be good."

She nodded agreement. "It was such a relief. It was a relief for Astrid too, you know."

"Yes ... she let it all out, she told me. Then ... I guess you two made a pact ... or bonded ... or something?"

"Yes. We were like two silly girls, getting over a spat and trying to make it up to each other. It took couple of hours and a jumbo Marguerita to calm us down," she grinned. "Then, we went shopping. I think I got a little crazy in that lingerie store, but we were having fun and getting to know each other better."

"From what I heard, you couldn't have gotten to know each other any better," I laughed.

"Oh ... that. Yes ... we did kind of get carried away, but it was all in fun. Henrik didn't mind. He gets the benefit when I get like that. I'm just so relieved that Astrid has accepted me finally. It's a big weight off my shoulders, and I have you to thank for it."

"It's a big weight off her shoulders too, Crystal. She's been dragging this around with her for a long time. I just gave her the push that made her do what I think she knew she needed to do anyway."

"Quit selling yourself short. I choose to believe you had everything to do with making it happen. That's final!" she snapped, grabbing me again in a bear hug. "If I haven't told you yet, Rick, I'm very happy Astrid has chosen you ... and you have chosen her. You two are perfect for each other. Perfect!"

"Thank you. Now ... we better go back before those two start wondering what we're up to."

We left the study, returning to the kitchen, my mind already addressing another question.

"Everything all right?" Henrik asked.

"Yes, fine," Crystal answered almost in unison with me.

"You look a bit worried, Rick. Having second thoughts?" he asked with a grin.

"No ... not at all. Just thinking of the best way to tell my parents. Dad's at work and Mom's home. I'd like them to be together when we tell them. That won't be until tonight, though."

"If I may make a suggestion, Crystal?" Henrik intervened. "Would you call Mrs. Campbell and invite her and Mr. Campbell to dinner this evening. I think this is something that should be done with all of us there. I do want to meet the parents of this fine young man. They are to be congratulated as well."

I was flattered, to say the least, but it was the best solution. I nodded my agreement, seeing the big smile on Astrid's face.

"That discussion we had a few minutes ago," Henrik said, turning to me. "I will look after it this afternoon."

I nodded. "Thank you." I assumed he meant the ring. I doubted that a pre-nuptial agreement would be part of the activities this evening. 

I did get a curious look from Astrid. "It's official, then?" 

"It's official," I happily confirmed.

"Rick, do you think we can persuade your father to join us for golf on Saturday morning?" Henrik asked.

"After what is going to happen tonight, I think he can be persuaded," I grinned.

"Excellent. I was thinking, would you mind if I invited Milo as our fourth?"

"No ... absolutely not. I'd be delighted to partner with Milo again. It would give us a chance to get our money back."

"Good. I'll call him this morning. By the way, what does you father do?"

"He's the general sales manager for Tidewater Paper."

Henrik laughed. "Amazing. Tidewater is our biggest customer for wood chips. I know their senior people very well. What is his name?"

"Malcolm. But he's in the domestic sales group. No newsprint, just printing and fine papers."

"Well, that's something to look forward to anyway. I'm sure we will have a lot of friends in common," Henrik enthused.

His buoyant spirit was contagious. He banished any concern that he wasn't in favour of our marriage. Pre-nuptial or no pre-nuptial, it might not have stopped us anyway, but it was much better with his wholehearted blessing. I never had any concern about Crystal. She was still getting over the change in Astrid, but I knew she was completely confident in me.

Henrik left for his office, announcing he would be home by mid-afternoon. Crystal said there were some errands to run after she called my mother. That left Astrid and me with the day to ourselves. We ate our breakfast and I thought I heard the gears grinding in Astrid's head as she started the wedding planning. That was her nature – to plan. That was how she had met and captured me. 

Crystal popped her head in and said that my mother assured her they would be happy to have dinner here that evening and would arrive between six and six-thirty. 

"I'm pretty sure she has an idea what this is all about, but I wasn't about to let the cat out of the bag," Crystal said. "I'll bet she doesn't let on to your father, though."

"Yeah ... you're probably right. She does like to keep him off balance now and then. She likes to think she's in control." For that comment I received a sharp knuckles-first punch on my shoulder from Astrid.

"Get used to it!" she barked. 

"Yes, dear," I replied, parroting my father.

"See, Crystal. His training has started already," she giggled.

Crystal disappeared again and Astrid and I talked about what we would do that day.

"Would you like to see the Japanese gardens out at U.B.C.? It's a nice day and I can show you the campus. We can have lunch somewhere in the west end at any one of a dozen restaurants."

"Great! Let's go." That was another trademark of Astrid – enthusiasm!

By the time we got back to the Rasmussen residence later that afternoon, we had toured the gardens and the campus at U.B.C., lunched at a funky little bistro on West 4th, walked along the sands at Spanish Banks and found an empty bench to sit on and enjoy the spring sunshine and the view of English Bay and the North Shore mountains. There was still snow on Grouse and The Lions, as well as traces on Cypress and Seymour.

Contemplating my travels, I wondered if the citizens of this area understood just what a magnificent place we live in compared to so many others. Wilderness is within minutes of the big city. The climate is benign and temperate. It isn't perfect, of course, but Little River is as close to that standard as any place, and that's where we decided we would make our home. It seemed like such an easy decision for both of us that it hardly merited discussion.

I lay on the bed as Astrid prepared to take a shower. I was exceptionally happy at how my life was turning out. I found a beautiful woman to love and keep. I had the respect of her parents and she of mine. I didn't anticipate any pressure that might interfere with our lives with the exception of one thing – Astrid's riches.

I really didn't know how to deal with her wealth. It meant that we would never have to worry about money in our marriage. Or did it? Perhaps it would be the opposite. Would it be something that might come between us? I didn't know how to deal with this challenge. I didn't know if I should discuss it with Astrid just yet. But I did know I couldn't avoid the subject. I would have to find a way to talk to her about it.

She sauntered out of the ensuite, naked with the exception of a towel wrapped around her waist. She showed a sneaky grin on her face that said she was up to something. I watched her as she deliberately made her breasts sway back and forth as she moved to the bed. I brought my hands up to reach for her, but she remained tantalizingly out of reach. She looked down at her breasts and then back at me. She was taunting me, challenging me, torturing me.

"That's just nasty, young lady."

"Why. I'm just letting you know I feel sexy. Is there something you can do to help me with that?"

"How many years have you got? This might take quite a while."

She grinned a sneaky grin. "Well ... I can give you a couple of hours now ... and a couple of hours later."

"It's a start. Would you like me to shower first?" I'm ever the gentleman.

"No ... I'm sure you're going to make me all sweaty and slippery ... inside and out. It would just be a waste of hot water. We'll do that later ... together." 

She slunk to the side of the bed and began to pull at my shirt. My hands roamed over her magnificent breasts, my thumbs strumming her nipples as I gently squeezed her pliant flesh. Both of us were losing our concentration and I sat up to help with removing my clothes. In a few seconds we were rolling on the bed in each other's arms, naked.

It had been a while since I had given Astrid oral sex and I began with that. I slipped down her body, kissing her nipples, navel and eventually arriving at her mons. I felt her hands on my head as she spread her legs to give me access to her lovely lips. 

Now I could see, smell and taste her arousal. Her labia were moist, her hips moving in tiny pulses as she awaited my tongue. I began with slow, light strokes of my tongue, from bottom to top, waiting a moment or two, then repeating. I couldn't see Astrid's face but I heard her little moans of satisfaction, and I felt her hips as they rose slightly and then fell almost as if it were her breath. 

I kept my slow pace, waiting for her to respond more actively. I sought out her little clitoris, stopping to probe with my finger, trying to bring it to life. As it became prominent, I used my tongue to stroke it and Astrid immediately reacted to my touch. Her hips snapped upward and her moans changed to grunts as she responded to my stimulation. 

"Oh, Ricky ... please ... fill me up, baby," she cried. 

I didn't continue to torture her, rising up on her, placing the head of my erection right at the entrance of the place my tongue has just been. She was urging me to enter her quickly and I obliged. If I learned anything from my time with Astrid, it was not to tease her beyond her limits of tolerance. I pushed firmly, but slowly into her. 

"Ohhhh ... Rick ... I can't have enough of you," she moaned. "Fuck me, baby. Fuck me. Make that big cock fill me up. Fill me, baby."

There was no need to respond in any other way than to give her what she so desperately wanted. She taught me to use my size and power to be the dominant lover when that was what she wanted. I knew exactly how to please her and that was to adopt a male-power position and use it to demonstrate my strength and ability to satisfy her. I might have been playacting, but I would never admit that to her. It was my time to be the alpha male.




Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 05



Again, I pushed her legs up over my shoulders as I drove down into her in a relentless pace. I tried manfully not to reveal any weakness and used my fitness and strength to drive her over the edge as many times as possible. 

Astrid was either in heaven or hell, I wasn't sure which. She was writhing, panting, and mouthing incomprehensible sounds as I drove into her without slowing. I'm not sure where the energy and strength came from, but it was there and I was using it to my utmost advantage.

Almost as abruptly as it began, it ended. I gave her no warning as I erupted into her in a violent finish to our incredible joining. I was exhausted. Bathed in sweat, I slumped beside her, aware that she was in the same state that I was. We lay, side by side, breathing heavily, trying to calm down after our fierce coupling. 

"Oh, god. Who are you?" she gasped at last. 

"Your ordinary, everyday super-stud." I couldn't think of anything sensible to say after what just happened.

"What have I done? I've created a monster."

"Are you registering a formal complaint?"

"No ... god no! I'm registering a formal compliment."

"All compliments gratefully received."

"Rick ... that was ...mind-blowing! There isn't any way to describe it."

"I take it you weren't disappointed."

"Stupid question."

"So ... what do you think? We might be compatible?"

"Another stupid question."

I was still breathing deeply as was Astrid. I raised my head and looked at the clock radio. We had a little over a half hour before our presence would be expected downstairs. My parents would be here within the hour. 

I wondered if Astrid and I would regain our equilibrium by then. As much as I thought of her as sexually dominant, I discovered there was a hidden part of me that was willing to take that role as well. I sensed that it was something Astrid wanted to tap on a regular basis. I was still learning. I understood that. I was a willing student, however.

We staggered into the shower a few minutes later. We washed each other, even though it was actually more sexual touching, stroking, caressing, probing, and kissing. We were in a state of complete contentment and it took every bit of our resolve to leave the stall, dry ourselves, and get dressed. I barely controlled my desire to touch and hold my lover, now my fiancée. I didn't want to be any more than arms-length from her. 

We walked downstairs hand-in-hand.  I'm sure the evidence of our recent encounter was written all over our faces. As we arrived in the kitchen, Crystal was there, dressed very elegantly. Not overstated, but chic. I looked again and saw Astrid was dressed similarly. I looked at them both.

"Did you two buy these dresses when you bought the summer dresses?"

"Of course. We both have similar tastes. Both in clothes and in men," Crystal quipped.  

Astrid just smiled and said nothing. I got the impression she was still cruising on "afterglow."

Henrik came downstairs a few minutes later and poured each of us a glass of wine.

"I've saved the champagne for later," he said, raising his glass in salute. "Here's to our happy new family ... with more to come, I hope."

"Yes, Daddy. Rick and I want two or three children, so you won't be lonely when we visit."

"Wonderful," Crystal exclaimed. I can't wait." Henrik was leaning back in his chair, a broad smile painted on his face.

My parents arrived a few minutes after six. I didn't expect them to be late. Once they knew who the Rasmussens were, I suspect they guessed what the get-together was all about. Astrid and I held back as Henrik and Crystal went to the front entrance to welcome them.

As the introductions were made, I saw the dazzled look on my parents' faces as they gazed about the interior of the mansion. My mother's eyes were wide, but when she saw Astrid and me, she came right to us. We hugged and kissed and mother smiled what I thought was a knowing smile. 

"Please call me Henrik," he said to my father. "It's Malcolm, isn't it?"

"Yes, but almost everyone calls me Mac," my father replied. "I'm more comfortable with that."

"Excellent, Mac. Crystal and I are delighted you came tonight. I think we have some special news to share." With that said, he took a small, blue box out of his pocket and handed it to me. "I believe your son has something he'd like to say."

"Ahem ... Mom ... Dad ... I have asked Astrid to be my wife and she has accepted. Mr. and Mrs. Rasmussen have approved as well." I opened the little, worn box and took out a dainty, slim ring with a single small stone in the centre. "This ring comes from Astrid's late mother and it has been in the Rasmussen family a long time."

I beckoned Astrid to me and slipped the ring on her third finger, left hand. It fit perfectly. I turned to face her, gathered her in my arms and kissed her through fresh tears. I was aware of applause as well as squeals of delight from my mother. As we broke the kiss, my mother rushed to us both, hugging first Astrid and then me.

"It's wonderful. Congratulations!" she gushed. Dad was right behind her.

"Congratulations, son! I don't know how you managed it, but I can only say you are one lucky guy." He turned to Astrid. "You're going to improve the family portraits all by yourself, Astrid. Welcome to our family."

I saw Henrik slip away from the group and disappear into the kitchen, followed shortly by the thock of an exploding cork. He returned with a bottle of champagne and six flutes, pouring a glass for each of us. 

Henrik raised his glass in salute. "I wish these two young people all the happiness they can find ... along with some grandchildren, of course." That brought about general laughter. 

I could see that Henrik wanted to talk to my father, while Crystal, my mother, and Astrid were already plotting something. I was the odd man out, temporarily. I certainly didn't feel unhappy or excluded. My fervent hope was that our parents would become good friends and that we would always be welcome in either home. 

Astrid was right. Her father didn't flaunt his wealth. He was as down-to-earth as any man, and I saw that he and Dad were getting along just fine. Time would tell of course, but so far, everything was great.

My mother, and occasionally Astrid, spent time in the kitchen as Crystal prepared the meal. Astrid, recognizing that I was left on my own while everyone else got to know each other, came out and wrapped her arms around me.

"Happy?" she asked, looking up at me.

"You know I am."

"Me too. This is like a fairytale. And the ring ... my mother's. I love it. Everyone likes everyone. It's going to make our life so much easier." 

"We have to start thinking about when and where we get married," I suggested.

"Don't worry about it. Your mother, Crystal and I will work it all out."

"Oh ... don't I get a say?"

"Of course, but if we don't agree ... well ... you can figure it out for yourself," she smirked.

"So ... it's going that way already, is it?"

"What way?"

"You know ... we have a nice rational discussion about what each of us wants, we debate the various merits of each opinion ... and then ... you get what you want," I snorted.

"Now, don't be like that. You know I won't do that to you ... too often," she giggled.

I was shaking my head, already in defeat. I had witnessed my mother's performance at this art-form with my father, and I knew I didn't stand a chance. I held my hands up in surrender, but with a smile on my face. It's just the way things are, I suppose.

We sat down to eat at seven-thirty and once again, Crystal produced another masterpiece. What made it even more surprising was that it didn't seem to require a lot of effort on her part. The compliments were coming thick and fast as the appetizer and then the entrée disappeared.

Once again, it was a struggle to manage even a small portion of dessert. The champagne had long since vanished, replaced by another very fine French wine. My father and Henrik were deep in discussion, first about golf, then about people they both knew at Tidewater. 

Astrid was busy playing 'footsie' with me. She was in high spirits, thanks to the wines. She was gazing at the engagement ring, holding it and turning it, obviously deep in thought. 

I don't think I'd said more than ten words since we sat down. Mother always said don't talk with your mouth full, for one thing. For another, I was watching the interplay among the two sets of parents. 

"You're awfully quiet tonight, lover," Astrid remarked quietly, her hand covering mine.

"It's a big occasion. I'm still trying to come to grips with the fact that you said yes," I confessed.

"That surprises you?"

"Yeah ... I guess it does. If you had told me that when we met last December we would be engaged in April, I know I wouldn't have believed it."

"I wouldn't have either," she said.

"So what happened?" I didn't need to know. I should just shut up and accept my good fortune, but then ... that wouldn't be me.

"Serendipity ... kismet ... fate ... call it what you want. All I wanted to begin with was a boyfriend that wouldn't embarrass me," she admitted.

"Hmmmm ... not looking for much, huh?"

"No ... not expecting much. How was I to know I was going to find the love of my life?" She and I were speaking in low tones, hoping not to be overheard. 

"You didn't take long to decide. That first date lasted a quite a while," I reminder her.

"Yeah. It just kept getting better and better.

"So tell me, girl, when did you fall in love with me?"

"Let's see ... I think it was the next morning. When I woke up ... I was happy it was you beside me. I think I was getting the idea then. All you did was make me more and more sure you were the one."

"Funny ... I think that's when I fell in love with you. I still remember that morning ... you waking up ... me holding my breath, hoping it wasn't all some big mistake ... and then you smiled. I was yours right then," I admitted. I stopped and looked around the table. There were four sets of eyes focused on us, listening intently.

"Oooopps!" I said, shrinking into my chair.

Astrid stifled a laugh with her hand. Our secret was out.

Our parents had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. My face must have been crimson since I felt the heat. Astrid blushed, but still displayed a look of mirth about her. She was incorrigible. It was another of those thousand things I loved about her.

The party broke up just before eleven that evening. We confirmed a golf date for Saturday morning. Mom, Crystal and Astrid were getting together for a late breakfast and some planning. I assumed it would be about the wedding and the reception. 

Henrik let it be known that whether we wanted it or not, it was going to be a "society wedding." It was out of his hands, he claimed. He was too prominent in the community to have it go unnoticed. Our pictures would undoubtedly be in the paper announcing the engagement and that was that. 

Friday, we went touring again. Stanley Park, the Aquarium, Gastown, across to Lonsdale Quay and back to the city again. Despite the fact that we both lived in or near this city most of our lives, it was surprising how infrequently we would act like tourists and re-discover our own surroundings. 

It was a fun but tiring day. Some of the tension and excitement of yesterday was still with us. I noticed Astrid fingering her engagement ring and looking at it often. I wondered if it was conjuring up memories of her mother. I only hoped she was satisfied and happy with it. It was a very modest ring for a young woman who was so wealthy.

I also noticed she was wearing the silver locket I gave her for Christmas. In fact, she appeared to be wearing it almost every day. I was curious.

"What do you have inside the locket?"

Astrid looked at me with a faint smile. "At first, it was a picture of my mother. I never told you how happy I was with this gift, Rick. Every time I looked at it, it reminded me of her. She had one something like it, Dad says. He noticed it right away. He said you have very good taste."

"Uh ... that's kind of him. Actually, it was an impulse. I thought it might be too personal. We only knew each other a couple of days when I saw it."

"Yeah ... but what a couple of days those were," she said with a raised eyebrow. "Anyway, it was something special from a guy who became something special."

"May I see the picture?"

She turned to me, holding the side of the locket and carefully opening it. I saw two small pictures, one on each side. One I recognized. It was me, but I was about ten years old. Where did she get that? The other picture looked like Astrid, also about the same age.

"Where did you get my picture?" 

"Your mother. She gave it to me the other day when she asked to see the locket too.

"So that's you and I ... when we were kids?"

She nodded, smiling.

"If we have three children, we'll have to get a couple more lockets," I kidded.

"Maybe ... but this one will always be just you and me." She leaned into me and raised her head. I kissed her and felt the now-familiar warmth flood through me. It wasn't sex, it was love and comfort. It was that special feeling when two people are exactly in tune with each other. I'd never known it before, but I recognized it immediately the first time I felt it.

We arrived back at the Rasmussen home late that afternoon. We'd done a lot of walking and decided a before-dinner rest would do us good. We lay down on the bed and fell asleep quickly. I felt someone shaking me gently, bringing me awake. I looked up and it was Crystal. She was smiling as she looked down at me and then to Astrid, still asleep beside me.

"Time to wake up, Rick. You might want to have a shower and change. You'll feel fresher. I'll let you wake up Astrid." With that, she turned and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I groggily sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I glanced at the clock radio and saw that it was almost six. We were asleep for over two hours. I leaned over and kissed Astrid awake. She stretched, groaned and then rolled toward me.

"We must have been tired," she mumbled.

"I think so. I'm going to have a shower. Want to join me?"

"You go ahead. If I get in there with you, who knows when we'll get out."

I chuckled and headed for the ensuite.

A few minutes later I was dressed and on my way downstairs to join Crystal and Henrik.

"Astrid will be along soon." I said, stretching and stifling a yawn.

"The excitement catching up to you?" Crystal asked.

"I guess. That and a lot of walking the last couple of days. I guess I'm not in as good a shape as I thought I was. I'll have to do better if we're going to Europe this summer."

"Oh ... about that ... uhhhmmm ... don't make any big plans yet. There's the wedding and other things to consider. Your mother, Astrid and I are looking at some dates and we need you to help us decide."

"Huh! I guess I should have thought of that. Does that mean we won't get a chance to go away this summer?"

"I don't know. I can't imagine you'll be stuck here all that time. Surely you can find some time for yourselves."

"OK, Crystal. I guess I'll just wait and see what happens." I had a hunch there was more to it than I was hearing.

Henrik walked in, having come from his study. "Good afternoon." He always appeared with a smile and a welcome. "How was your day?"

I told him about our travels and the fun of rediscovering our city. I was just finishing when Astrid shuffled into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me from behind, kissing me on the cheek.

"Tired?" I asked.

"Groggy. The shower helped. I'll be OK soon enough."

The thought crossed my mind just how comfortable we all were in each other's company. It already felt like family here and that put me in a nice, warm frame of mind.



Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 06



As always, my thanks to ErikThread for his skillful and insightful editing. All errors are mine.




We retired early Friday evening and for the first time in several days, we didn't make love. I think we were both asleep when our heads hit the pillow. I was up early the next morning, showered and shaved as I headed for the kitchen and breakfast. Our tee time was 9:12, and I felt much better after a good night's sleep.

"Sleep well?" Crystal asked.

"Very. I guess we were tired and maybe a bit stressed with everything that's been happening this week."

"I'm sure. Is Astrid up?"

"Yeah ... in the shower when I left."

"Your mother and I will be keeping her busy this morning. I assume you'll be back before three?"

"Yeah ... should be ... easily."

"Good. Henrik wants to take us all to dinner tonight at his club. They have a nice band and a good dance floor. If I know Astrid, you'll need your strength."

"Sounds great. That'll be fun. Astrid makes me think I can actually dance," I grinned.

I ate my usual breakfast and Astrid arrived just as I was finishing. I got a kiss on the cheek as she settled onto her stool and poured her morning fruit juice. 

Henrik appeared from his study and shortly we were ready to leave for the golf club. I kissed Crystal and Astrid, as did Henrik, promising them we would be back by three.

It was good to see Milo again and we both swore we would do our utmost to get our money back from the first game. My father arrived almost as we did and the introduction to Milo was made. We already knew who was teamed with whom.

"This will be interesting," my father said, sizing up the handicaps. "I have a feeling we are at a disadvantage, Henrik."

"Not to worry, Mac. I'm playing with your son's money," he laughed.

Dad finished the fall with a twelve handicap, but hadn't played much this spring. However, he was stuck with the official number, just as I was with my eighteen. They would have to give us strokes. Milo coached me again on the fine points of Shaughnessy's greens. It would turn out to be a big help.

We got up two holes early thanks to Milo holing-out from the fringe on three and my par on seven when both Dad and Henrik bogeyed from the sand. We made the turn one up when Henrik got one back on the ninth. On the thirteenth, Dad made an impossible, long putt for a par when the rest of us couldn't find the green. We were all even. This was beginning to look like the first game all over again.

Dad hit the ball very well with a smooth swing, a low trajectory and a slight draw. He's almost always on the fairway. His weakness is his long irons. Henrik uses his powerful hands and arms to muscle the ball down the fairway. It isn't pretty to watch, but it works for him as he regularly smacks the ball out 250 yards or more. His weakness is his putting.

I was hitting the ball pretty much the same way as I did on Wednesday, maybe a little further. When we got to the seventeenth, a short par three, I hit a lousy shot that was made worse by the winds off the river. I was miles to the left of the green with a long pitch and run shot. I stubbed it, barely reaching the fringe.

As I watched the others, I was seething. Of all the times to screw up. Milo was in no shape to help, as he faced a long, almost impossible putt that ended up six feet from the hole. No easy par for him. Dad and Henrik both made the green and both parred the hole. I stepped up to my putt with little hope of making it, made a quick decision on the line and weight, and stroked it.

Sometimes, the golf gods are with you, and other times they aren't. I watched in amazement as my putt rolled through the swale, over the tiny crest and down into the hole, dead center. Milo whooped his approval and promptly stepped up and holed his six-footer for his par and a tie. We dodged a bullet.

The eighteenth decided it. It was a long par four and I hit my best drive of the day, with a solid second shot just short of the front of the green. I was looking at an easy chip and putt for a par if I kept my nerve. Milo scrambled, but got on the green in three. Henrik was off to the left in two, but also with an easy chip and putt option. 

Dad, however, pulled his three iron well left and was in trouble. He had to chip over a trap and then stop the ball quickly to get anywhere near the hole. He made the chip nicely, but the ball refused to hold and he was almost twenty feet from the hole. I made my chip to within five feet as did Henrik. We both sank our putts. Dad missed his for a bogey and when Milo made his putt, we'd won!

It was another great game on another great day. I was getting the golf bug again and thinking maybe I might encourage Astrid to catch it too. 

Henrik produced our winnings and Milo and I gratefully accepted our lost twenty dollars from the previous game. Dad was the only one to lose, but he didn't appear to be very upset about it. He was muttering about his long irons, but I'd heard all that before, and Mom has told him time and time again to go get a lesson. Maybe one of these days he will.

It was just past one thirty when we adjourned to the 19th hole, ordering a sandwich and a beer. Naturally, the winners bought. Only Milo was able to sign, so I offered my twenty to him, but he refused.

"I don't get that many chances to extract money from your future father, so allow me the pleasure." 

We told Milo the events of Thursday, hence my father's joining us for this game. He was very happy for us, telling me I was getting a very special lady in Astrid. He had known her since her early teens and saw her mature into the spectacular woman she was today. 

We parted just after two-thirty and headed for Henrik's car. It was only a ten minute drive home. We were talking about golf as we pulled into the driveway and he opened a door on the four car garage. I pulled my clubs and shoes out of the trunk and transferred them to my car as Henrik walked toward the house.

We entered the side door into the laundry room before moving into the kitchen. The house was silent as we walked into the living room. Henrik came to an abrupt stop and I nearly bumped into him from behind. I stepped aside and saw what he saw. Crystal, tied to a dining room chair, with tape across her mouth, her eyes wide in terror.

"My God! Crystal!" Henrik shouted as he ran to her. I was right behind him, wondering where Astrid and my mother were. 

Henrik pulled the tape from Crystal's mouth and she immediately let out a howl of anguish. It was the most mournful sound I have ever heard.

"What happened," Henrik asked as he fumbled with her bindings. I moved to help him.

"Astrid!" she cried. "They've taken Astrid!"

"Oh, God no!" I'm not sure if that was me or Henrik or both of us. I felt a bolt of cold terror rip through my chest. Henrik looked gray and was struggling to free Crystal as she cried and moaned. At last, she was free and fell into Henrik's arms.

"Astrid ... what happened to her?" I asked, almost afraid of her answer.

"Four people ... they came to the door. When I opened it, they burst in. They had guns. They wore masks ... like women's stockings. I think they were looking for me, but when they asked Astrid who she was, she told them. They immediately decided to take her. They tied her hands and taped her mouth and took her away. I couldn't do anything to stop them, Henrik. Two people held me and then bound me to this chair. I'm sorry, Henrik, I couldn't stop them."

"All right, Crystal. Calm down love. Let me look after this." Strangely, Henrik was suddenly calm.

"Rick, look after Crystal. I have to make a phone call." He disappeared into his study, returning seconds later with a cell phone in his hand. I knew it wasn't his regular one because it was still in a clip on his belt.

I watched him as I held a shaking Crystal, leading her to the nearest sofa. 

"Code Red, Number three, Viking one," he said clearly into the phone. I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but every so often, Henrik would say "yes" or "no" into the phone. At one point he paused, holding his hand over the phone.

"Do you remember when this happened, dear?" he spoke kindly and softly to Crystal.

She was shaking her head, still in a state of high anxiety, but soon replied, "About one, maybe one-thirty."

He repeated the information into the phone. He paused again.

"Did they leave a note or a message or anything?"

She looked around, as did I. I spotted something on the counter in the kitchen and quickly moved to it.

"Don't touch it, Rick!" Henrik called. 

I stopped in my tracks, looking at the folded piece of paper. The cut and paste message was partially visible.

"It's here. This must be it," I called.

Henrik spoke into the phone further, then sighed deeply and snapped it closed. He looked like the weight of the world just landed on his shoulders and I knew, for the first time in my life, exactly what that felt like. I was sick with worry, a cold void in the pit of my stomach. What had happened to Astrid? Was our life together going to end in some horror story on the six o'clock news?

Henrik moved to Crystal's side and was stroking her shoulder as she wept openly.

"There will be some special officers here shortly, Rick. They will look after finding Astrid."

"What about my mother ... she was here, wasn't she?"

Crystal looked up at me and stifled a sob. "No. She left before they came."

"Thank god for that," I gasped. 

"Rick, Crystal. Do not make any phone calls right now. Someone may be listening," he said, again with amazing composure.

"Henrik ... what's going on? You seem to know something about what's happened. Tell me, please," I pleaded.

"There isn't much I can tell you, Rick. A little over five years ago, a number of government officials and business leaders, including me, were given special training in what to do if there was an attempt on us or our families. We were given a special cell phone and each of us given a code name. Mine is Viking One. Using their code, I have told the special security forces that we have a kidnapping, Code Red, and it is my daughter, number three. I am number one, Crystal is number two.

"If someone is listening on the phone or other device, it won't mean much to them. We haven't seen the note yet, so we don't know what this is about. They might be terrorists, or just out for money, or something else entirely. There will be several special officers here shortly."

"I've never heard of this training and code stuff," I said.

"No ... it was part of the increased security needed for the Olympics in 2010. It's a joint effort between the RCMP, the FBI, Interpol, and several other national police forces. It's been in place in one form or another since Munich, 1972. They are trying to cover all the bases, but I never in my wildest imagination believed it would happen to us."

"I feel sick. Please excuse me," I said as I rushed to the bathroom. I lost my lunch and most of my breakfast. My face felt cold and my stomach ached when the heaving finally abated. I was sweating and when I stood, a wave of dizziness came over me. I put my hand to the wall to steady myself before I opened the door and returned to the great room.

I saw three men in business suits standing, talking to Henrik and Crystal separately. Two of them held recorders as they asked questions. There was a no-nonsense look about them. Once again, Henrik appeared to be completely in control of his emotions. It must have been force of will ... a will which I was unable to summon. 

"You are Mr. Richard Campbell?" one of the men asked as I approached.

"Yes, that's right."

"I'm Sergeant Morrow, Special Security Detachment," he said, showing me his I.D.

"You are the fiancée of Miss Astrid Rasmussen?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything you can tell us ... anything you might have seen that would help?"

"No ... I'm sorry. I was with Henrik ... Mr. Rasmussen ... and didn't see anything until we got into the house. That's when we discovered Mrs. Rasmussen tied to that chair," I said, pointing. "She was tied with those ropes and a big piece of duct tape covering her mouth."

He nodded. "Thank you. Why don't you have a seat and we'll see what we can find out from the note."

I followed his advice, sitting on the sofa beside Crystal. She had regained her composure for the most part, but was still showing the stress of the moment. I reached for her hand and held it.

Henrik was conversing with the two other security men as they reviewed what I assumed was a ransom note. The officers were wearing surgical gloves as they handled the note. At length, Henrik nodded and walked over to us, sitting beside Crystal and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"It's a ransom note. They want five million dollars and have made a number of demands. They call themselves the Wilderness Survival Force. I've never heard of them and neither have the officers."

"Does that mean they'll kill Astrid if you don't meet their demands?" I asked, once more alarmed beyond reason.

"I don't know. We may yet pay the ransom, but right now, we're trying to see what we can learn about them and if we can identify any of them. This isn't some organized group that we know about. They have left a number of clues, according to the officers, but that doesn't mean they aren't dangerous."

The officers approached the sofa. 

"Mrs. Rasmussen, are you feeling up to answering some questions now?" the older one asked.

"I think so. I'll try. We have to get Astrid back. We have to!"

"Yes, of course. Can you tell me what you can remember about the four people? Were they all dressed the same?"

"No. Two wore jeans, two in shorts ... you know ... those really baggy ones with all the pockets. I think they all wore sneakers." She looked up as she paused.

"What about hair. Anything unusual?"

Crystal held her hands over her eyes, I assumed trying to remember what she saw.

"One of them was bald. I'm sure of that. One of them had black knotty hair ... he was the black one," she said.

"One of them was black?" the officer asked in confirmation.

"Yes. His hair had those tight little knots in a row. I can't remember what they're called."

"Cornrows?"

"Yes ... that's it. The others ... I couldn't tell because of the stockings they wore."

"What else do you remember?"

Again, Crystal closed her eyes in concentration.

"I think ... I think one of them may have been a woman," she said.

"A woman! What makes you think that?"

"The way she walked. She didn't say anything that I can remember, so I didn't hear her voice, but ... her hips ... the way she moved, I was thinking it was a woman."

"Very good, Mrs. Rasmussen. That is very helpful. Let's try for some more. When they spoke, did any of them have an accent?"

"I can't remember one. Only two of them spoke. The two that took Astrid. They sounded just like you and me," she said apologetically.

"Did any of them use a name at any time?"

"No ... I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"That's OK. That's still a help. Do you remember what they said when they were talking?"

"I don't know. I was so shocked. I remember them yelling at us to stand still. They were holding guns on us. I was terrified. I'm sure Astrid was too, but I wasn't watching her. I was just watching the guns pointed at me ... at us."

"Understandable. Can you remember anything of the conversation when they decided to take Astrid instead of you?"

"Yes ... he said something about how the 'old man' would pay quicker if they had his daughter. The other one said something about taking us both, but the guy who seemed to be in charge said no, one was enough to handle."

"OK ... anything else?"

"No ... everything was a blur from that point as they tied me up after Astrid was taken away. At first I was afraid they were going to kill me, but then they left by the front door and got into a car and drove away."

"Did you see the car?"

"Yes. They left the front door partly open. It was an older cream-coloured Volvo. The back windows were blacked out, so I didn't see Astrid. I just got a quick look at it as it went past the open door. I thought I saw rust on it, but I'm not sure."

"OK, that's very helpful. You have done very well for someone who was in a terrifying situation. You are a very brave woman," the officer said with a smile.

I agreed. Crystal remembered an amazing amount for someone under the stress she was facing. I saw a look of pride on Henrik's face as the officer complimented her. I think her ability to help had also calmed me down. The special security police, or whoever they were, were going about this in a professional manner and that was also a calming factor.

The interviews and investigation lasted another hour, but they weren't interested in me. Henrik spent quite a bit of time with one officer in particular, but I couldn't tell what it was about. Crystal was coming around, but was still upset at the events of the day. 

It was past five when the officers left after shaking hands with Henrik and moving out the front door. I wandered back into the kitchen, hiked myself up onto a stool and sat, wondering what next.

Crystal and Henrik were right behind me.

"Are you feeling better, Rick?" Henrik asked.

I nodded. I wasn't great, but I wasn't still nauseous. In fact, I was hungry.

We all sat silently for a while before Henrik spoke.

"I've always been afraid something like this might happen, but it was one of those things I always pushed to the back of my mind. Now, it's happened. And now, all we can do is wait and let the police do their job."

"What did the note actually say?" I asked.

"It said something to the effect that they were the Wilderness Survival Force and they were out to right all the wrongs the industry, and especially me, had done to the land. They wanted five million dollars and made some demands about the abolition of future forest operations by all companies in the province."

"That's insane! No one would agree to that!" I spat. I sighed and shook my head. 

"What did it say about making the payment? Would they let Astrid go?" Crystal asked.

"That was implied, but not promised. It said something about 'if you value her life, you will comply with our demands.' It didn't say anything about where to send the money or how to contact them. I guess that comes next. In the meantime, the RCMP will be sending two specialists to stay with us while this is going on. We'll put them up here while they monitor the phones and wait for whatever comes next."

I buried my face in my hands. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. To us! I wasn't even allowed to tell my parents what was going on. No calls were permitted from either the house phone or our cell phones. The two visitors would be setting up tracking equipment just in case they called to the house again. It brought up an interesting question in my mind.

"How did they get through the gate? They wouldn't have an opener. How did they do it?"

Henrik was shaking his head. "I don't know, but I'll bet our two visitors will. Whatever, I'll have to get that fixed so it doesn't happen again. It looks like our security isn't what it should be."

"I'm afraid to answer the door now," Crystal said. "I should have realized that no one called to ask for permission to enter. That was stupid of me," she moaned.

"I can fix that, dear. We'll put small TV cameras at the front door, back of the house and the gate. You'll be able to see who it is before you do anything."

"Oh ... that will be a big help. I wish we'd had it today. I just hope it's not too late."

"Don't talk like that!" I exploded. "She's alive and we're going to get her back. I just know it!" I cried, pounding my fist on the counter. I shrank back in my chair. I'd lost my cool and I wasn't proud of it. "Sorry ... I didn't mean it."




Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 06



"That's OK, Rick. I understand," Crystal soothed, her hand on my arm. "You're right, we have to be positive. We are going to get Astrid back unharmed. I believe it too."

I wondered if she did believe it. I was trying to convince myself and it was a battle. I was vacillating between hope and despair. I wanted to believe, but ....

"I think we should get something to eat," Henrik said at last. "I'm afraid it going to be a long, frustrating wait until we hear something. We need to keep our minds occupied."

I nodded my agreement. I dreaded the next hours and days until we knew Astrid's fate. Fate! That word! One minute I was congratulating myself on being the luckiest guy on the face of the earth ... and the next ... this.

Crystal made some sandwiches and a salad for a light supper. None of us had much of an appetite, despite my tossing my earlier meals into the toilet. It was a quiet, sullen trio sitting around the counter that evening.

We were interrupted when the gong signaled the gate phone. Henrik picked up, answered with what sounded like a coded response, and then hung up. He walked to the front door and a moment later, a black sedan rolled to a stop. Two men got out, pulling a large briefcase from the back seat and entered the house. 

"I'm Constable Singh," the Indo-Canadian officer introduced himself. "This is Constable Bowering. I believe you were aware we would be coming to stay for a while," he said.

"Yes. Come in gentlemen. If you'll get your bags, I'll show you to your rooms," Henrik offered. Bowering turned and went out to the car, retrieving two small overnight bags.  

Henrik led them upstairs, showing to the two rooms on each side of the one Astrid and I used. I got the impression they were more than happy with the accommodations. They returned downstairs.

"Is there someplace that we can set up our equipment that won't be in your way?" Singh asked.

"Yes ... there's a small, unused room that once was servant's quarters. We don't use it any more," Henrik said.

The two men followed Henrik to a door near the laundry room and quickly surveyed it. "This will be fine. Plenty of room for us," Singh confirmed. 

Bowering followed with the large briefcase and the two began setting up their equipment. I watched as Henrik observed their work for a few minutes then turned and walked back to me.

"At least we'll have company," I observed.

Crystal wore a distant look, but nodded. I think she was thinking the same thing I was. This next period, however long it might be was not going to be pleasant, and it wouldn't be hard to get on each other's nerves. I vowed not to do that, but quickly remembered my outburst only a little while earlier.  

The next five days felt like five years. We would get up, eat, wait, eat, wait, eat, wait, and retire. I began to understand the concept of solitary confinement. Although we were not alone, we were certainly alone in our thoughts. Talking about the kidnapping was off limits by unspoken consent. We dared not leave the house, although I did spend some time in the back garden and the pool. Anything to relieve the boredom-fear mix that I carried. 

If nothing else, I had time to think about what had happened to my previously normal life since Astrid had arrived on the scene. I thought about how I had changed, thanks to her. She was feeding me self-confidence along with the healthy dose of love and sex. I began to see that I wasn't some misfit adventurer that had stumbled into good fortune. 

Whatever it was about me ... who I was ... and who Astrid was ... proved to me that we were meant for each other. I was the stability she wanted, and she was the boost that I needed. We were perfectly matched. An unlikely couple, but just right for each other. The thought that it could all be ripped away ate at my guts. I was too deeply in love with her to accept that possibility.  

Henrik was becoming more and more agitated that there had been no contact from the kidnappers and he began to think the worst, I assumed. I saw the dark look on his face as he contemplated the loss of his daughter. Had the kidnappers panicked and killed Astrid. How I prayed that wasn't so. But as each day passed, I was becoming more and more pessimistic about her chances.

And then, on the Friday morning, almost a week after she was taken, the call came. The two officers signaled to Henrik when to pick up.

"Rasmussen," he said in a neutral tone.

He stood, listening intently to the call.

"I understand, but I will not cooperate until I hear my daughter's voice," he said. There was no mistaking his tone.

There was a pause and I know both Crystal and I were holding our breath.

Then, "Astrid? Are you all right? Yes ... Yes, dear. Be brave. We'll have you home ...."

Another pause. 

"Yes ... I understand. Yes ... I will arrange for the money. It will take a day or so, but your instructions will be followed. No ... no tricks. No police. I just want my daughter back."

He stood for a moment and then looked at the receiver. Apparently, the call had ended. He put the receiver down and turned to the Singh and Bowering. "Did you get enough?"

"Yes. Well done, sir. I think we got a full trace," Singh said with a grin.

"What did you learn?" Henrik asked them.

"Sounds to me like a bunch of amateurs. They weren't careful when they took your daughter and they weren't careful on the phone. I can't figure out why it took them so long to call, but maybe they lost their nerve or were arguing amongst themselves. Can't tell, but one good thing ... we know your daughter's alive. She sounded scared, but otherwise, OK."

Henrik nodded. "What next?"

"More sitting and waiting, sir. I've sent the coordinates to our command center and they'll be busting it to get to the location. Keep your fingers crossed. I just hope these clowns don't try something stupid. They have no chance against a SWAT team." 

My insides were boiling. It all came down to this. Some unknown group had taken my Astrid and now they were going to be confronted by the police and there wasn't a thing I could do but wait, hoping for the best. I was pacing back and forth in the great room, almost mumbling to myself. All that was left was my hope that Astrid would be rescued alive and well. 

Even Henrik was distressed and anxious. He had contained himself, kept his cool amazingly well, considering, but now, like me, he was as jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. 

I looked at my watch. It was two minutes later than the last time I looked. I was trying to remember what time the call came through and I walked over to Constable Bowering and asked. He looked up at me and gave me an understanding smile.

"The call came through at nine thirty-eight am," he said. I looked at my watch again. Ten fourteen. Already over a half hour since the police were alerted. How long would it take? How long could I hold it together. 

At exactly ten twenty-nine, Singh's cell phone rang. "Roger. Roger that. I'll let them know. Thanks, ... and nice job." He closed the cell and looked up with a smile. "They've got her and she's OK."

"Yesssss!" I hollered at the top of my voice. Crystal jumped, but she was already rising to run to Henrik and embrace him. He looked exhausted, but thankful, with tracks of newly formed tears on his cheeks. I hustled myself over to them and hugged them both in relief. 

"When can we see her? When can she come home?" I asked the constables.

"I imagine she'll be taken to the hospital first for examination. Then, if she's OK, there'll be a de-brief at headquarters. It's possible they'll want Mrs. Rasmussen to be there as well. I'm afraid we can't avoid the paperwork. We need to make sure this case is airtight and Crown Counsel can get a conviction. That's our first priority after we establish the victim is all right."

I slumped back against the counter, disappointed, but resigned to more waiting. At least I knew she was alive and apparently well. Maybe tonight I'd get a proper night's sleep. There were some phone calls to make and some explaining to do. 

"Constable, can I make a couple of phone calls. I need to let my parents and my employer know what happened to me," I explained.

"Yes, but keep it vague. Perhaps with your employer, tell them Ms. Rasmussen was sick, or something along those lines. We'd just as soon delay the news getting out while we're still getting our ducks in a row."

"My fiancée and I are both school teachers at the same school. We should have been back there last Tuesday. I'm sure they're going to be pretty upset with my not calling and then having a weak excuse."

He nodded. "What's their number and who should I talk to?" he asked.

I flipped open my cell to the phone book and showed him the number. "You want to ask for Mr. Hollingsworth or Ms. Belisle," I said.

He pushed the speed dial number and waited. 

"Mr. Hollingsworth, please." A pause. "This is Constable Singh of the RCMP."

Another pause. "Mr. Hollingsworth, I'm Constable Singh of the Vancouver detachment, RCMP. I'm calling to let you know that Mr. Campbell and Ms. Rasmussen are alright and will probably be returning to work next week," he said, looking to me for confirmation. I nodded, then shrugged. 

"Yes, they have been having some problems not of their own making and I'm not at liberty to discuss them just yet. However, you can be assured they have done nothing wrong and had no opportunity to call and explain their circumstances."

Pause.

"No, sir. I'm sure there won't be any embarrassment for the school. It might just turn out to be something positive." 

Pause.

"Yes, sir. I'll pass that along. Yes, sir. Good day." He closed the phone and handed it back to me.

"He doesn't have a clue what I'm referring to, so you can expect a full interrogation when you get back," he grinned.

"Thanks. I gather he's not too upset?" I asked, hopefully.

"No ... curious ... but not upset."

"May I phone my parents?"

"Yes, of course. In their case, as long as they can keep it quiet until the story breaks, you can pretty much tell them what happened if you like."

I nodded. I would need to. I wonder what my mother will think when she finds out she narrowly missed a kidnapping or maybe worse last Saturday. I told Henrik I was going to my room to call my parents, but if they heard anything about Astrid, please come and get me. He agreed and I walked slowly upstairs.

"Hi mom."

"Rick ... where have you been? You didn't say goodbye before you went home. We've been trying to call, but there's no answer at your apartment or Astrid's either."

I sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. I began, telling her what Henrik and I discovered when we got home from the golf game and finished by telling her that Astrid was apparently fine, but I was still waiting to see her. My mother, as I expected, was nearly frantic. I didn't bother to mention how close she came to being directly involved. Perhaps that would dawn on her later. 

We talked until my low-battery signal came on. I promised to phone and let her know as soon as Astrid was available to talk. You would have thought it was her daughter. Well, in a few months, she would be I suppose. 

I had transitioned from fear to fatigue. I was bone weary, knowing I hadn't slept properly in a week. I was imagining what it would be like to have Astrid in my arms once again.  I walked slowly downstairs. The constables had packed up and gone. Crystal had already stripped the sheets from their beds and was putting them in the washing machine. 

Henrik was in his study, but the door was open, usually a sign he wasn't busy. I looked at the old clock on his bookcase and saw that it was almost noon. 

"How are you holding up, Henrik?" I asked.

"I'm very tired right now, Rick. I'm sure you must be the same."

I nodded my agreement. "Any word on when we can see Astrid?"

"No ... but I called headquarters and they indicated she should be finished at the hospital around one this afternoon. However, they're taking her to their office for an interview, so even if we can see her, it won't be for long."

"I hope they don't wear her out. She's been through a hell of an ordeal," I said, a bit frustrated that I wouldn't have my lover back sooner.

"I hope so too. We're all anxious to have her home again. It will be important to see how she is mentally, you know," he said, looking at me.

"I agree. It's something I've been worried about. What kind of after-effects might show up?"

Henrik shrugged. "I wish I knew. The main thing is she's alright physically. With lots of love from you and Crystal and me ... she'll be fine, I'm sure."

"You were a real rock when this was all going down," I said. "I think you helped me hold it together."

"Yes ... well ... let me confess. I was frightened. Very frightened. But I had to help Crystal get through this. She needed to think I was in complete control and that she didn't have to worry about me. I hope I succeeded."

"You did. You also gave me that same sense of confidence. Thank you. It would have been easy to come unraveled."

He nodded, then looked up at his clock. "It's past noon and for the first time in a week, I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat," he smiled.

"Right with you," I agreed.

The mood in the kitchen was a marked contrast to previous meals. We were upbeat, but on edge waiting for the phone call from ... someone? Henrik and I wolfed down two sandwiches and a beer, while Crystal ate one sandwich and a glass of wine. We were talking again, rather than holding our breath. It felt good, but still incomplete. 

I think I might have jumped a foot when the phone rang in the kitchen. Crystal was closest and answered.

"Hello? ... Astrid! How are you darling? Are you all right? When can we see you?"

My heart stopped in my chest. I willed myself to be calm and wait my turn. First Crystal, then Henrik, and then me.

I listened but didn't hear as Crystal talked to my fiancée. Soon enough it was her father's turn, and I saw the tears on Henrik's face as he talked to his daughter. The relief he felt and the emotions that were bottled up while all this was going on were now released. 

And then it was my turn.

"Hello, darling," I said, barely holding myself together.

She started to say something, and then I heard her break down. She was sobbing and trying to talk but she was incoherent. I remained silent as she let it out, but I felt the tears trickling down my cheeks as I listened. I was trying to hide my sobs, but not doing a very good job of it. I felt two arms go around me. Crystal was holding me as I wept openly. 

Astrid recovered before I did. "I'll be home tonight, lover. I promise. I miss you so much. I was scared, but I thought of you and I knew I had to make it."

"I was scared out of my mind," I admitted. "Are you all right?"

"Yes ... yes. I'll tell you all about it when I see you. I'll be home before you know it," she promised. 

"Hurry. Please."

"I will. Let me speak to Daddy again, Rick." 

I handed the phone to Henrik and dried my eyes with Crystal still holding on to me.

"You love her very much," she said, stating the obvious.

"I don't think I truly understood how important she was to me until this happened. I knew I was in love with her, but ... I never for a moment thought about what it would be like to lose her. I'm not sure I'd have been able to handle it."

"I think this is going to make you both stronger, Rick. This horrible week is going to live with us for a long time, but it's going to remind us all what's important."

"She couldn't talk to me. She was crying too much. I guess I don't have to worry about her love, do I."

"I never thought you did. What's happened in the last two weeks is so amazing, you wouldn't think it was possible. It's great to be loved like that, isn't it?"

"Yeah ... fantastic."



Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 07



My thanks, as always, to ErikThread for his insightful and helpful editing. Any errors are mine.



Astrid came home that Friday just before dinner, and there was general chaos in the Rasmussen home. My parents had been invited and arrived not long afterward, while Crystal ordered Chinese delivered from one of the local restaurants.

I got a bit drunk that night. Astrid was taking some kind of pills to keep her calm and couldn't drink, so I had her share. When she arrived, she looked worn and tired, but there weren't any signs of cuts or bruises and she was in good spirits as far as I could tell. We all had a good cry when she arrived and then got down to hearing what happened.

It turns out this so-called Wilderness Survival Force was nothing more than a bunch of left-wing college kids who had some crazy idea that they could save the province if all logging was stopped. They had managed to work themselves into a lather and decided that if one of them could get some guns, and another could figure out how to circumvent security systems, they could kidnap some big-wig and hold him to ransom.

The plan got refined, and then refined some more, and finally, a target was chosen. Crystal was the target, but Henrik was the objective. They had it in their minds that if they could control the biggest of the big, he could make all the others do what he told them to do. Astrid simply was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Astrid said that if she hadn't been so frightened, it would have been a comedy. They apparently argued day and night about what to do next. They had been successful beyond their wildest expectations, but were uncertain how to take advantage of their captive. As Astrid pointed out, they needed help in planning. She would know.

Finally, they agreed that the money would be the big thing and that's what they went for. When they called that Friday morning, they were hung over from pot, wine, beer, and god knows what else. They even argued about which of the two leaders was going to make the call and speak to Henrik. By this time, Astrid was really frightened because these people were so out of it, she thought anything could happen.

When the SWAT team broke down the door of the basement suite, they found the four dancing around in a pot-induced haze, celebrating the five million dollars that Henrik was supposed to give them. Astrid had been tied to the headboard of the bed for most of the week. Escorted by the one woman in the group for her bathroom breaks, she had neither showered nor washed properly for the entire time. Fortunately, they had fed her. 

The three men and one woman were taken into custody, while Astrid was released and put in an ambulance and taken to Vancouver General for a thorough examination. Other than some rope burns and a lack of personal hygiene, she hadn't suffered any injuries, nor had there been any sexual assault. She told me that she doubted any of the men could get it up, they were so often stoned. I was just as happy she didn't have to test that theory. 

We didn't have sex that night. Astrid was exhausted, I was drunk or something close to it, and all we really wanted to do was to hold and touch each other again. Making love wasn't on our minds yet. 

Crystal made a big breakfast for us on Saturday morning. That's when I found out my parents had stayed overnight in one of the guest bedrooms. I guess Dad had had a couple of extra snifters of Henrik's cognac and Mom and Crystal made sure he wasn't driving anywhere that night. Somebody had to be in charge.

The breakfast was at the dining room table and it was a happy, loud, and fun occasion. Astrid was almost back to her old self already. She was teasing me about our outpouring of emotions on the phone the previous afternoon, but I really didn't mind. I thought it was something that told me a lot about myself and Astrid's importance to me. No one thought it was weak and no one made fun of me. I think my mother thought it was a sign of my true feelings for Astrid, and she was happy for me.

We didn't do much that Saturday. I made a quick trip to a nearby sport store and bought a swim suit. Astrid decided to tantalize me and probably any other male within viewing distance with her skimpiest bikini still in residence at the house. It was teal coloured and she looked absolutely fantastic in it. I didn't have my camera with me, but I took some pictures with my cell phone. My father was cross-eyed once more.

We lounged around the pool all afternoon. Mom and Dad had gone home to change, promising to come back that afternoon. We would be heading home to Little River on Sunday, but not until the afternoon. 

In the meantime, the story of the kidnapping and rescue had not yet broken in the media. I wondered why, but didn't have any complaint. I couldn't imagine what was going to happen to us when everyone found out about Astrid's encounter with a life-or-death situation. I was sure it was going to be big news.

After dinner, the Rasmussens and the Campbells decided to play bridge. Both Astrid and I begged off, choosing instead to go back out to the pool and spend some private time with each other. I'm sure that was our parent's plan all along. I don't think they really realized just how much she meant to me until everything was at risk. 

"My worst fear was that I'd never see you again," Astrid confessed. "I think I must have cried for the first three days. That woman, Therese they called her, she kept telling me to shut up. She thought I was afraid of what they were going to do to me. I never told them I was afraid I'd never see you again, never be with you, never hold you."

"It was the same for me," I admitted. "I couldn't imagine what I would do without you. I'm just so happy I didn't have to find out." 

We were sitting on the edge of the pool, our feet dangling in the warm pool, each with an arm around the other's waist. 

"Are you really OK?" I asked her after a long silence.

"I think so. I don't know if there will be any after-effects. They ... the police ... offered me counseling ... stress counseling ... if anything happens. I hope it isn't necessary. It would mean coming back to Vancouver every week for god knows how long. I'd really rather not have to do that. I just want to be with you," she finished, looking at me with a tired smile.

"We'll do what ever needs to be done to make sure you are OK, dear."

"I know. Let's just wait and see. There's probably nothing to worry about."

"Maybe," I answered, not quite as convinced.

We left Sunday noon to catch the mid-afternoon ferry to Nanaimo. Parting company with her parents and mine was a bit sad and we made a lot of promises about calling them often and seeing them. Henrik had talked about using the corporate aircraft to fly my parents, Crystal and him over to Comox and visiting us in a few weeks; perhaps the Victoria Day long weekend in May. I thought that would be great and so did Astrid. I think we both wanted them to see what a fine place we had chosen to make our new life.

As we sat in the ferry lounge, looking out at Vancouver Island in the distance, we talked about what came next for us.

"When do you see us getting married," I asked.

"How about August?" 

"I have to wait that long?"

"Wait for what?" she grinned.

That stopped me. I guess it was really a matter of making it all official. Otherwise, we were living and acting as a married couple already. It was just a matter of choosing where to live.

"Good point," I conceded.

There was another silence as Astrid was thinking. Then, "I think we should start planning our new home."

"What new home?"

"The one we're going to build for ourselves and our future children." She had been thinking about this and it was another example of her inborn need to plan.

"Uhmmm ... I guess. But, that brings up a sticky point," I said tentatively.

"What sticky point?"

"Uhmmm ... about the money. Your money, I mean."

"Oh ... that. Does it bother you ... I mean ... does it bother you that I have a lot of money?"

"I'm not sure. I'm having trouble with the concept, I'll admit that."

She was quiet for a while and I didn't know what she was thinking. Was she upset because I was uncertain? Was she miffed that I was worried about her wealth? I couldn't tell. Finally, she turned sideways to me, placing her hand on my cheek and looking directly into my eyes.

"Rick, there isn't a single thing I can do about being wealthy. I didn't ask for it. I didn't even hope for it. For a number of years I did everything possible to avoid it. I've been rich since I was twenty-one. That's four and a half years ago. I really haven't spent a dime of it and every year it gets bigger and bigger. I can't think of anything better to spend it on than the man I love and the home I want us to be happy in. A shelter for us and our children."

I sat there, somewhat confused and uncertain.

"Astrid, I don't know how to handle this. I've never been rich, and I never contemplated being rich. It's something that just happened in the last few days. Like winning the lottery. I really don't know how to handle it."

She smiled at me and I felt a bit better. 

"I don't either, Rick. But if we're going to have all that at our disposal, and we are going to make a life together for ourselves and our children, then we'll have a long time to figure it all out. Maybe we can start a charity, or a foundation or something. A way to help others. I don't know. It doesn't have to be a problem ... a burden. Many families spend most of their time worrying about making ends meet. We will never have to do that. What we need to do is make the best use of what we have."

I looked at her. I couldn't help but love this woman. She was so grounded ... so level-headed. Plus, it was all beyond my control. I leaned over and kissed her gently and she responded in kind. I sat back in the lounge seat, undoubtedly with a satisfied smile on my face. 

The news broke Monday morning when the RCMP held a press conference in Vancouver at ten am, announcing the arrest of four suspects in the kidnapping of Astrid Rasmussen, daughter of Henrik Rasmussen. The kidnapping had taken place ten days earlier and with patience and full cooperation of the Rasmussen family, a successful rescue operation had been mounted and Ms. Rasmussen had been freed on the previous Friday.

The television and radio stations broke into their regular programming to carry the press conference live. It was the headline story for the next two days as every bit of the family history and the history of previous kidnappings were reviewed. Henrik attended the press conference and publicly thanked the RCMP Special Squad for their excellent work in rescuing his daughter unharmed. No mention was made of Crystal's ordeal, or of my presence.

The spokesman for the force indicated that details of the kidnapping would not be soon forthcoming as the Crown was still collecting evidence for the future trial. There would be no bail for the suspects. They were remanded in custody.

I reported to the school on Tuesday morning, but Astrid remained at her apartment. The news had been on everyone's mind and it wasn't hard for me to get our Principal, Daemon Hollingsworth, to understand she needed more time to recover. Naturally, he was shocked to discover one of his teachers was the daughter of a famous man. As far as her classes were concerned, a substitute was available and had been filling in for her. 

My classes were a different story. They had been monitored by the assistant principal, Andrea Belisle, but no teaching was being done and no assignments were handed out. I was over a week behind and I had some catching up to do. I was a little upset that my class had been so neglected, and I wondered if it had anything to do with my unconventional methods. I would hate to think the administration was that petty, but you never know.

It didn't take long for Astrid and me to become celebrities in Little River. The media had tracked us down and were hounding us for interviews. A number of the tabloids were offering large sums of money for Astrid's exclusive account of the experience, but all were declined. It took over a week before the furor died down enough that we could return to some sort of normalcy. 

She had moved into my apartment, primarily to dodge the media. It worked for a day, and then the pestering began again. We finally removed the phone from the wall jack and stopped answering the door unless it was someone we knew. The little peep hole was helpful for that. When they didn't have any luck with Astrid, they started on me.

What was my relationship to Ms. Rasmussen? How was I involved in the kidnapping? Did I see the kidnappers? Was I getting a reward for helping the Rasmussen family? How long had I known the family? And on, and on, and on. After a while, I just gave them a "no comment" and quit trying to be polite. 

Astrid weathered the storm of publicity, but wondered aloud to me if it would all start again when our engagement was announced. That wouldn't happen until the wedding date was set, but I knew it wouldn't be that far in the future. 

She was having some bad dreams at night and I was there to help her through them. The ones she could remember were variations of the confinement and restraint she suffered over that week. Fear of the future was mixed in with it as well. They didn't seem to have lasting effect on her during her waking hours, but in bed and asleep, I could feel her restlessness and I struggled to get a good night's sleep as well.

We couldn't help but hear the goofy stories the media invented to explain what had happened and who the main players were. You would have thought that some criminal mastermind had pulled this off and that the worldwide forces for good had rescued her just in the nick of time. It would have been funny if it hadn't been so frightening in its reality. 

By the end of the week, much of the fuss had died down. The media people had us staked out, but weren't bothering us any more. We moved back to Astrid's apartment and I informed the landlord at my place that I wouldn't be renewing the lease when it expired on the first of July. 

There were barely eight weeks left in the school year and we hadn't decided on what our plans were for the summer.  It struck me that money was no longer an obstacle. We would be able to go anywhere and not worry about traveling "on the cheap." In the meantime, as I struggled with our summer plans, Astrid was still having some difficulty with her dreams. I wanted to help her, but I wasn't sure how.

I spent some time on the internet researching sleep disorders and various trauma counseling theories. An idea began to form the more often I saw one concept repeat itself in many of the therapies: yoga meditation. I remembered a woman on the faculty mentioning yoga and I decided to ask her about it, hopefully in confidence. I did not want Astrid's problems to once again be fodder for the rumour mill.

Elizabeth Keate was a colleague of Astrid's, teaching English as well as Health and Hygiene to the more senior students. Yoga had come up in a general conversation about health. I gave it a lot of thought about how I would frame my questions to her, but I guessed that she would put two and two together pretty quickly and know this related to Astrid's kidnapping.

I approached her during the lunch break one Monday and asked if I could speak to her in confidence. She agreed. Elizabeth was over fifty, many years my senior. She was, however, well regarded among the faculty and I had some hope that she would keep my inquiry to herself.

"Elizabeth, I need your advice on something; specifically yoga and meditation."

She nodded without speaking.

"You know what happened to Astrid, so I won't go into any details, but she has been having bad dreams that are interfering with her normal sleep and I'm concerned that it's going to affect her health. What can you tell me about yoga meditation? Do you think it could help?"

"Rick, I'm not a doctor or a psychologist, but I know that meditation, particularly the traditional Eastern meditation, is a proven method of relieving stress. What happened to Astrid must have produced an enormous amount of stress and despite how strong I know her to be, she needs relief from that. Yoga is a platform for meditation, if I can put it that way. One supports the other and they are inexorably linked.

"It so happens, there is a very good practitioner here in the valley. Her name is Sandra Johal. She's getting on in years, but she was very helpful to me when my husband was dying. I can recommend her not just for Astrid, but for you as well. She is a professional in every sense of the word. If anyone can help, Sandra can."

"Thank you. Please don't mention this to anyone. We're having enough problems fending off the media. I'd really hate for Astrid to have this become common knowledge."

"No ... I won't say a word to anyone, but I will let Sandra know if you want me to. I know something about how people like to gossip around here and I won't contribute to it. If you need anything else, please, Rick, don't you or Astrid think twice about coming to me. You are good people and good teachers. I'll do anything I can to help," she said with a sincere smile.

"Thanks, Elizabeth. We really appreciate that. Now, all I have to do is convince Astrid it's a good idea." 

"If you need help in convincing her, I'd be glad to speak to her about it. I've gone through it years ago, but I still practice it today. Once you learn, it usually becomes a discipline you maintain."

I nodded my thanks and noted the name of the practice that Ms. Johal owned. She was listed in the yellow pages, so finding her wouldn't be hard.

I broached the subject that evening with Astrid. I was careful to have her understand that it was an aid to help her get past the bad dreams and trauma of the kidnapping. As she so often did, she surprised me.

"I've been thinking about yoga too. One of our English teachers is very involved in it herself."

"You mean Elizabeth?" I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"I've already talked to her and she's given me the name of someone she highly recommends."

Astrid laughed and this time it was her shaking her head. "We're starting to act like an old married couple. We're thinking the same things at the same time."

She was right. I had seen my parents display the same behaviour as well. It always struck me as a sign they were perfectly compatible with each other. It was a good sign for Astrid and me. She gave me a big hug and a kiss, and sighed what I took to be a sigh of contentment.

We were quiet for a while and then Astrid turned to me. "Do you suppose this yoga person could teach us about that Tantric sex thing?"

I had to laugh. "You've got that stuck in your mind still? It must have been quite an experience for you."

"It was. I mean ... you seemed to be taken by it too."

I agreed. "What do you say we deal with getting you back to a proper night's sleep first and then we can talk about Tantric sex?"

"OK. I can live with that. But I won't forget," she warned.

We hadn't made love since the Saturday night before we returned home. Her period had started on the Monday and we were confined to holding and cuddling for a few days. I wondered if having sex would change her sleep pattern. 

I contacted Ms. Johal and made an appointment for Astrid and me to meet with her on Friday afternoon after school was out. Astrid wasn't planning to go back to the classroom until the following Monday. I wanted her to take it easy, but already she was showing signs of restlessness. I gave her a couple of assignments. One, to do a little pre-study on yoga on the internet. The other, look for house plan books we could go through. She jumped at both suggestions.




Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 07



Sandra Johal was certainly an older woman, well into her sixties I guessed. She was slim, attractive, and apparently active. There were some pictures of her on the wall in running gear, participating in some of the 10K races. They appeared to be fairly current. Sandra also sported a very proper English accent.

After introducing ourselves, we were seated across a large oak desk from the woman. 

"I understand Elizabeth recommended me," she began.

"Yes. I had heard her comment about her involvement in yoga in the past and I though she might give us a good lead to a teacher. So here we are," I smiled.

"Good. Would you like to tell me why you are interested in yoga?"

"Actually, we're specifically interested in yoga meditation. Astrid survived a very harrowing experience recently and she's having trouble sleeping. I've been doing some research on sleep therapies and more than once I came across references to yoga meditation as an aid."

Sandra looked at Astrid with a sympathetic smile. "Yes, I heard about your kidnapping. I'm sure that was very frightening."

She paused for a moment, folding her hands together on the desk. "Meditation is part of yoga. They are inseparably linked. My classes are based on Hatha yoga, a very old and well recognized discipline. There are several types of yoga, but Hatha is the one I have chosen to follow and teach."

"Before we get too far along," I interrupted, "do you believe that this Hatha yoga will be helpful?"

"Yes, but ... it isn't that simple. I am not a doctor prescribing pills for various ailments. Yoga is a way of life, of belief, and of personal awareness. It requires understanding and practice and commitment. I can't teach what you need to know in two or three hours. It is a developing practice that evolves as the individual evolves. For many, it is an exercise in frustration because they are unable to grasp the principles. Part of it is physical, but much of it is mental. Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

Astrid spoke up. "Yes, I think so. This isn't some exercise class that makes you feel better afterwards. From what I've read, it's a moral, spiritual, and physical exercise. I know it isn't something where we just show up once or twice a week and follow your instructions."

Sandra was nodding agreement. "Quite so. I teach a more modern and Western approach, so the physical aspects are emphasized, but for advanced students, I will give special instruction in classic Hatha yoga. Elizabeth is just such a student, but then, she has been practicing for over twenty years."

"This sounds like a big commitment," I offered.

"It is, if you seek its true benefits. There is only one way to find out if it is for you, and that is to try. If you wish to try, I will welcome you to my classes." 

I turned to Astrid. She had been quiet, but very attentive as Sandra spoke. She nodded. "I think we should try," she said, mostly to me.

"Then ... we will." 

We began attending classes at Johal Hatha Yoga the following week, Monday and Thursday evenings for an hour each. Sandra was right, this would be much more complicated than I realized. Astrid, however, seemed to be mentally better prepared for it. I should have known, I suppose. She never did anything in half measures. 

Her return to the classroom was raucous to begin with. So many questions and comments about her ordeal. It took her a couple of days before she regained control of the class. Gradually, her students began to respect her ability to re-focus on her job and by the end of that first week she felt things were somewhat close to normal.

The staff members were just as fascinated by her adventure, but with my having returned a week earlier, I had been able to answer many of their questions. The women on staff had elevated her to heroine status, which caused Astrid some embarrassment, but also some personal satisfaction. The single men had once again found they had no idea who Astrid Rasmussen really was. No one knew of our engagement, however. Not even Elizabeth Keate.

I worked hard to grasp the concepts of Yoga and meditation. I don't think I was successful, but I know I tried. Perhaps it was a bit too cerebral for me. Astrid, however, seemed to latch onto the concept easily and was truly into it. I confessed to her my problems with keeping up with her and she surprised me.

"Don't worry about it, Rick. I will help you, but you don't need to lose any sleep over it," she laughed. Bad pun, I thought.

We were into our second month of twice weekly sessions and I felt like I was falling further and further behind. Perhaps my mind was too ... linear. Perhaps I was too pragmatic for this concept. But then, Astrid, the great planner and pragmatist was fully involved and seemingly progressing very well. I was struggling to grasp why I couldn't quite accept the notion. Once again, Astrid came to the rescue.

"Rick, I have something to tell you," she said ominously one evening as we drove home from the Yoga class. 

"Oh ... what's that?"

"I asked Sandra about Tantric Love tonight."

"Oh ... well ... what did she say?"

"She said it was related to Tantric Yoga and was a higher form of spiritual oneness. She knew why I was asking the question and she wanted to know what prompted it. I told her about our special night ... that special joining. She said it was unusual for anyone to achieve what we had achieved without training, but she admitted it was possible.

"I told her we wanted to find that special place once again and she had agreed to help us. But ... and it's a big but ... you have to be there with me. I mean ... spiritually. You have to be part of me and me a part of you."

"I don't know how to be any more with you spiritually than I already am, Astrid. I love you will all my heart, but ... I need help to understand what I don't understand."

"Sandra will help us, Rick. She will see us privately. Just you and me and Sandra. Will you try, Rick?"

"You know I will. I could never say no to you, babe."

She smiled and hugged and kissed me as I struggled to maintain control of the car.

We began the sessions the following week. They were very intense and very personal. Sandra, however, was someone I had complete confidence in, despite the fact that I had been unable to completely grasp the idea of Yoga meditation.

Much of Tantric Yoga was predicated on letting the mind completely relax and accept the love of yourself and others. It was so simple to say and yet so difficult to realize. It was a way to deepen both love and happiness. Or at least, that's how I understood it. I think Astrid had a more intellectual understanding of it.   The best part of Sandra's instruction was the practicing. It was done in private in our apartment and we worked very hard to put her instructions and advice into our efforts. I remember the night when everything came together and we found that magic place once again.

We weren't practicing Tantric Love every night we had sex. We had to be in the right mindset ... both of us. When it finally happened, it was as magical and emotionally perfect as the first time. I believe part of the solution for me was to rid myself of any real-world concerns. I wasn't thinking about anything other than making my lovely Astrid completely satisfied. I had no thoughts of myself ... only of her.

We completely lost track of anything other than being together ... melded into each other. I think the only words that were spoken during the whole encounter were by Astrid.

"Yes ... yes lover. We've found it."

I know I've tried to describe it, but it's like trying to describe a cloud. The moment you begin, the cloud has changed shape and drifted. I barely moved in Astrid that night. I don't know how long we were together, but it didn't really matter. It might have gone on forever. We could feel each others heartbeats, slow and steady. I could feel the occasional pulse of her vagina as it contracted around my erection. There was nothing else to know. It was perfect!

We couldn't wait to tell Sandra, of course. She was happy for us. 

More importantly, Astrid had exorcised her demons and was sleeping regularly again. It was all the encouragement I needed to continue with the Yoga classes. I might not have been the ideal student, but I was a willing passenger with Astrid. It was good exercise, both mental and physical. 

Our parents kept their promise and visited us on the Victoria Day weekend. Henrik brought them up in his twin turbo-prop Beech. They arranged to stay in a very nice B & B in town, since we had no room in our apartment. Crystal and Mom immediately hijacked Astrid for some more wedding planning, while Dad, Henrik and I went off to play golf. It seemed like a fair trade to me.

Both our parents were relieved to hear that the last of the symptoms of her kidnapping had been resolved. We told them about the Yoga sessions and how helpful meditation had been. We neglected to mention Tantric sex, of course. Or at least, as far as I know, we did. The three co-conspirators, all female, may have discussed it, but I never heard about it.

The wedding had been set for early August and the church had been booked. The announcement was in the two major newspapers as well as our local paper the weekend before our parents arrived. Almost immediately, we began receiving phone calls from the media with questions about our connection to the kidnapping and requests for interviews. 

I didn't really appreciate how big this wedding was on the social scene, but I was soon set straight by my mother. She was going crazy trying to convince Dad to buy her something really expensive to wear at the wedding. He was, I'm afraid to say, weakening. Ah well, we all have to know our place in the grand scheme of things.



Oh Teacher, My Teacher Ch. 08



I'd pretty much given up the idea of traveling this summer. The wedding schedule had been moved to early August, and due to the high profile it commanded, there would be no time in July for even a couple of weeks to ourselves. I was in no position to complain, however. I was about to marry a spectacular woman. Not just a beautiful one, but a smart and dynamic one. 

So now you can understand my opening comments about just how much my life had changed in a few months. All my plans of a year ago seemed so inconsequential now. 

I didn't change anything in the classroom as far my approach went. My students got over the kidnapping episode and then the engagement announcement fairly easily. I think some of the staff were more fascinated with those events than the students. I had even made peace with most of the single males. They were envious, I know, but didn't begrudge me my good fortune. 

When the school year ended, I was pleased that all of my students had passed, although a few had just scraped by. More importantly, I had raised the interest in history among the student body, and I already knew there would be more students enrolling for the next semester. The administration was satisfied, the students were satisfied, so I was satisfied with my progress.

Our wedding date had been set for August 2, 2008, at St. Luke's Anglican Church in Vancouver. It was going to be a big affair. The reception would be held at Shaughnessy Golf Club, and more than three hundred people were invited. I'll be the first to admit I was intimidated. 

When I saw the guest list, it was loaded with the movers and shakers in our part of the world. I sat down with Crystal and she told me just who all the guests were and why they were invited. I could see why Henrik could trust her to run his company in his absence with the knowledge she possessed. She was one very smart and well-informed lady.

My folks had adjusted to the idea that I would be marrying into a very wealthy and influential family. I know Dad was worried that he would be put in a situation where he was expected to match the lifestyle of the Rasmussens, but that never happened. Henrik and Crystal wouldn't allow it. As an example, Henrik provided the entire wedding party with appropriate clothing; dresses for the women and tuxedos for the men. I think that took more pressure off Dad than any other single thing.

My soon-to-bes had informed us in May that they wanted to look after the honeymoon. Henrik had held back on details, but he and Crystal had obviously quizzed Astrid about where I might want to go and then where she might want to go. They chose to provide both. We didn't find out until two weeks before the wedding that they had booked us on two river cruises, the Danube and the Rhone. 

We would spend almost three weeks in middle Europe and the south of France. Astrid was so excited that she began packing almost before she knew where the rivers went. We would be home just ten days before school started. I would have some new slides to show and Astrid would have some wonderful memories.

After years of doing my travels on a minuscule budget, it was going to be a pleasure to take our honeymoon voyage in the lap of luxury. In typical fashion, Astrid had gone to the travel section of our local book store and bought enough books and maps to keep her busy for some time to come. She had looked up the cruises on the internet and downloaded the itinerary with the optional events, and had already chosen places we just had to see. 

Her enthusiasm was contagious. This was one summer I was going to remember for a long, long time to come. There was nothing for me to do but sit back and enjoy it. 

I was surprised but delighted when I learned that Mom and Dad were accompanying the Rasmussens to the Oregon coast for a week right after the wedding. They were flying down in Henrik's plane, and while the men played golf at several of the great seaside courses, the women would shop and tour the area. I thought that was a great idea, especially for Mom, after all the excitement of the wedding was finally past. 

I thought long and hard about who I should ask to be my best man. I had been out of school for several years now and I had lost track of many of the guys I had known at university. To be truthful, I didn't really have a best friend any more. At least, not one who lived in the area. The two guys I might have asked were living in Cleveland and Los Angeles. I didn't even have an address for them.

I talked it over with Astrid, and together we came up with a candidate. I called Milo Remple, my golfing partner. He had been invited to the wedding of course, but I don't think he was prepared for my request.

"Milo, I know we haven't known each other very long, but ... I wanted to ask you ... if you would be my best man at my wedding."

We had indulged in the usual pleasantries before I popped the question, naturally.

"Wow ... Rick. I don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting this."

"I know. My two best friends live in the U.S. and they won't be here for the wedding. I was hoping that you would stand in for them. I know it's asking a lot ... but ... I can't think of anyone else I'd be comfortable with."

"Well ... I'm flattered. I know Henrik thinks very highly of you, and I can't think of any reason to say no ... so ... I will!" 

His voice had ended on an upbeat note and I was enormously relieved.

"Thank you, Milo. Thank you very much. I owe you."

"No ... no you don't. I've known Astrid for some time now and I think she's very lucky to be getting a guy of your quality. I'm proud to be asked ... make no mistake."

We chatted for a few more minutes before I hung up, greatly relieved. I really was happy that Milo had agreed. We had hit it off almost immediately and I could see him as a long-term friend.

When I told Astrid that Milo had consented, she was all smiles and hugs.

"You've made a wonderful choice, Rick. I love Milo and I know Daddy will be pleased too."

We agreed to eschew the usual bachelor party scene in favour of a quiet night of men-friends at the Rasmussen's. We barbequed some steaks, played pool, drank quite a bit of beer, scotch, and brandy, and generally told lies about our exploits. 

I found myself telling tales of my occasional conquests on my world travels, happy that Astrid was nowhere near to overhear them. I gather my father was somewhat surprised at my exploits and perhaps a bit jealous. He was already ga-ga over Astrid, so this wasn't doing his ego any good. I don't think he ever had the opportunities that I did when he was young. 

Milo told some very funny stories about his misspent youth as well as his travails through law school. He had come from a relatively poor family and had to work his way through school and university. I could detect a note of scorn over the "rich boys" who skated through college without a care about tomorrow. I think he enjoyed his role now when he encountered them as adversaries. They were grist for the mill in his view.

The wedding day dawned cloudy and I worried about rain, but as noon approached, the clouds broke and the sun came through. It was an omen in my view. I don't have any strong recollections of that day except that everyone in the wedding party made sure I was ready and dressed on time, delivered to the appropriate place, and had learned my lines.

The one thing I do remember was turning back to see Astrid and Henrik walking slowly toward me down the aisle. It was surrealistic. She was a vision and somehow seemed taller than her father. Her lovely gown and veil masked her beauty, but I knew it was only temporary. 

An unexpected calm came over me as she joined me for the formal ceremony. I had been extremely nervous until that moment. Perhaps it was the realization that my fervent wish was about to come true. I was to be married to Astrid Rasmussen, the most beautiful woman in existence. I couldn't think of anything else that would make my life more perfect.

I don't recall all the ceremony, although I did remember the words and the vows. Milo presented the ring, smiling as I took it from him with an unexpectedly steady hand. As I slipped it on Astrid's finger, I looked up at her and could see tears and a very big smile through the veil.  I carefully lifted the veil at the appropriate time, kissed the tracks of her tears, and then her soft lips. I had won my prize.

We weren't leaving for our honeymoon until the next afternoon, Sunday. We didn't go crazy at the reception, and our lovemaking that night was particularly poignant. None of it was new to us, but somehow it was far more important this time. I took my time and savored my new bride in every possible way. She responded just as I knew she would. We fell asleep in each other's arms, blissfully sated.

Our honeymoon was wonderful, as you would expect. The weather in Germany and Austria was cool and damp, but we didn't care. As we slowly moved toward the Czech Republic and Prague, we were becoming more and more enchanted with this form of travel. It was luxurious in accommodation and the guides and land tours were well thought out and informative. Astrid was enthusiastic and fascinated by everything.

We ended the first cruise in Budapest and stayed for two days before leaving for Paris and the train to Beaune. Our eight day Rhone cruise was just as delightful, but in a very different way. It was almost a "Wines of France" tour, southward toward the Mediterranean, ending in Avignon. Again, Astrid was fascinated with the whole thing, fatigued at the end of each day as she tried to absorb everything she saw and learned. 

We alternated being the camera-person for the trip. Thank goodness for digital cameras. We could review what we took at the end of the day, store them on my laptop, deleting any misfires and pointless shots. Astrid would studiously caption each picture that evening before we went to bed, fearful that she would forget what the subject was or where we were.

When the cruise ended, we decided to take a couple of days, rent a car, and visit Monte Carlo and Nice. I'm glad we did. It was really just a way to say we had been there, but the fabulous yachts in the harbors were something to see all by themselves. We drove through St. Tropez, stopping for lunch at a seaside bistro. It was fascinating to see how the rich and famous spent their time.

We returned the car to Avignon and caught the TGV to Paris, and then Air Canada to Toronto and home. It had been a delightful, but somewhat hectic three weeks. Astrid enjoyed every single moment of it and couldn't wait to tell her fellow teachers and students about it. Her pleasure was the only measurement I cared about. It made the honeymoon perfect in my view.

In our quiet moments, we had some decisions to make. I had always wanted to continue teaching history and Astrid was completely supportive of my decision. She seemed less certain of her own future, however. We talked about starting a family, but that was going to be dependent upon her decision. Did she want to continue her career as a teacher or change to something else?

Then there was the matter of the house. Our new house. We had agreed on a floor plan Astrid had found in a magazine, but we needed a piece of property that suited the large, rambling ranch-style home. What I liked about the house was the separation of the bedrooms for guests and the ease with which the design could be modified and expanded in future. Astrid had a real estate woman on the lookout for property, but so far, nothing had materialized.

There was still the problem, if you could call it that, of what to do about Astrid's wealth. "Our wealth" as she so often reminded me. She had some ideas about a women's shelter and a children's refuge, but nothing concrete had formed yet. She wanted to contribute to helping people who genuinely needed help. But the more she looked into it, the more she found bureaucratic obstacles. She was being frustrated, but not defeated.

As far as our personal lives were concerned, it was a decision I felt she had to make for herself without my influencing it. To continue to work, to start a family, or whatever, I wanted her to be satisfied with whichever choice she made, even though I had an idea what that choice might be. At last however, shortly after school resumed in early September, she broached the subject.

"Rick, I wanted to talk to you about my thinking on my future career. I've come to a decision, but I won't do anything unless you agree and are happy with it."

I nodded my understanding.

"I want this to be my last year of teaching high school. I want to take time to have at least two children, and then I want to home school our children. Is that OK with you?"

I laughed out loud in glee, wrapping my arms around her tightly. If she could have read my mind, she would have been amazed at how much we think alike. She looked startled at my response, but I quickly put her mind at rest.

"I don't know how you did it, Astrid, but you have somehow decided you want exactly what I was hoping you would. Can you really read my mind?" I'm sure my enthusiasm confirmed how sincere I was.

"I don't know. Perhaps I can, but it's not like I wanted to do it because you wanted me to. I thought about it for long time ... before we were married. Besides, it's not like we didn't talk about it. No matter what other possibilities there were, this was the one that I was the most happy with. I was even thinking of starting a day-care. Would that bother you?"

"Not in the slightest," I said, again smiling at how alike we thought. "Of course, you'd want to have our children at least weaned before you took on others as well, but you'd be well trained and ready then, wouldn't you?"

She hugged me tightly, kissing me passionately for some time.

"Thank you, lover. You make me feel so good about finding you. I'm so lucky."

"I think I'm the lucky one, Astrid. If someone had asked me a year ago if I would be with you and where I am today, I wouldn't have believed it. When do you want to start making babies?" I grinned.

"Why not now? I can go off the pill and in a couple of weeks or so, I should be ready. If our timing's right, I could give birth just after the school year ends and we'll have the whole summer together to enjoy our new son."

"So ... you think it will be a boy, eh?"

"Yes. We have to give Daddy a grandson first, then a granddaughter."

"I think my Dad would be pretty happy with that too. The Campbell name would continue on."

"I don't think our mothers will care which ... a boy or a girl. They'll be happy whichever it is."

She was right, of course. "One thing though, Astrid. I don't want to know beforehand. I want it to be a surprise."

"Well, OK, but I might sneak a peek at the ultrasound. I just won't tell you what I see," she laughed.

"Fair enough. I suppose I'll figure it out anyway when I see the clothes you buy and how you decorate the nursery."

It was the student Christmas dance at the high school when she told me. We were chaperones, enjoying the music and watching the kids having a good time. She waited until we were on our way home to the apartment.

"Rick, I have some news for you," she began, smiling.

"If it's what I think it is ... halleluiah!" 

"Yes, finally, I'm pregnant. The doctor confirmed it this morning. It sounds like you're happy about it."

"You know I am. I was beginning to worry when it didn't happen right away. So when's the due date?"

"Mid-July ... almost exactly what we were hoping for."

I was going to be a father and I couldn't wait for it to begin. Astrid was happy too, so I was confident that this was going to be a great year for both of us. This would be the first of what I hoped were two or three children. Children we could teach, and who could accompany us on our summer travels. I was in seventh heaven.

You never know how life is going to turn out. A year ago, I didn't even know Astrid Rasmussen. Oh, I had seen her in the staff room and I knew her name, but we had barely said hello to each other. Now, we were married, expecting our first child, and planning our tomorrows. I wondered how it could get any better than this.

END

My thanks to ErikThread for his editing skills and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.