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."