Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Rookie teacher Rick Campbell gets a huge surprise when he's invited to escort the "Ice Queen" to the Christmas Dance. Incredible!
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.
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."
"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."
"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.
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.