Loving My Busty Former Teacher

It was 3 pm, and I was ready to leave the station to check the situation in one of the most crime-ridden places in town.

My office phone rang. I said, "Hello, how can I help you?"

A woman's voice sounded tense, "I am not sure if I dialed the correct number, but I urgently need a policeman. My former husband is outside the door and threatens to break in. I am scared."

"Ma'am, you dialed a police captain. Give me your name and address, and I'll send a squad car to your house."

"My name is Thelma Marshall, and I live at 256 East Park Street."

The name sounded very familiar. About 20 years ago, when I was in high school, my favorite teacher had the same name. Could it be her?

"Lady, out of curiosity, are you a teacher?"

"Yes, I am. I do not see the relevance to my urgent need."

"I'll be at your home in less than 10 minutes."

...

I was a young teenager in junior high. When the school year started, our class got a new young teacher. She introduced herself as Mrs. Marshall. Our first day was chaotic: Several students were noisy. The impression was that our teacher was too inexperienced and could not control the unruly students. The confusion lasted only one day. On the following morning, Mrs. Marshall announced, "Yesterday, I wanted to let you vent and start the transition from home to class. However, today, we'll be more serious. So, if anybody is not in the mood to participate, he or she is welcome to leave." Two students stood up and were ready to leave. She smiled at them and said, "OK, guys, get out and I'll mark that you elected to leave. On our final exams, I intend to score fairly everybody who attended the class and deduct what they answered incorrectly. However, for you two, every wrong answer will be scored as a double mistake. Guys, close the door behind you."

The 2 guys stared at each other and sat down. She chuckled, "I see you understood my message. You are here to study, and my intention is to teach you the best I can. In class, if you have questions about the material, raise your hands, and I'll try to answer. Anybody who misses classes without appropriate reason or decides to interfere with the teaching will find out that he/she will be punished harshly. Call it the carrot-and-stick method. It will take you up to 2 weeks to find out I like to teach and really want to help each and every one of you to succeed, but I will not tolerate interruptions."

Mrs. Marshall was right. It took us a week to realize she was a great teacher. She explained the material in simple terms and repeated it multiple times to make sure all of us were on board. She patiently answered the stupidest questions without being sarcastic or disrespectful. After a month, half the class, including me, admired her.

The first day of my senior year was also the day I turned 18. I came to class 30 minutes early and sat in the first row. Mrs. Marshall arrived 10 minutes later and grinned, "Ron, I see you chose to sit before me. Do you have an eye problem? You know it's harder to cheat if you sit in front."

I grinned, "My vision is 20/20. I wish to be in the front row because I can hear you better when other students whisper."

"Good reason. Last year, you worked hard and deserved your A. I hope you'll do as well this year, too." I blushed and whispered, "Thank you."

During the following weeks, I watched her up close and realized her face was very cute. She had short brownish hair, full lips, and... dark blue eyes. I used to think blue eyes went with blonde hair, but she was an exception. She always wore suits that hid her body shape, but her tummy was flat, and I guessed her chest was somewhat bigger than average. I loved the way she spoke: She had a unique way of pronouncing 'th.' Often, I caught myself ogling her lips without listening to what she was talking about.

Mrs. Marshall smiled regularly and never raised her voice. I liked the way she taught us, and a few months later, I felt I was in love with her... Throughout my senior year, I didn't have a girlfriend despite several opportunities. I was hypnotized by Mrs. Marshall. At our end-of-the-year party, most of the time, she was surrounded by well-wisher students. I managed to catch her alone when she was on the way to the restroom and confessed to being in love with her. She grinned, "Ron, I also like you a lot. However, love is something you'll experience later in life. Obsession with teachers is a known thing. I am flattered, but in due time, you'll find your true love."

It was 19 years ago and the last time I saw Mrs. Thelma Marshall.

...

I arrived at the small house 7 minutes later. I rang the doorbell, and Mrs. Marshall opened the door. She wore a long robe. Her hair was slightly longer, and a couple of wrinkles were noticed near her eyes, but she was as impressive as before.

She looked around to be sure I was alone and let me inside. "Sir, after I talked to you, I yelled at Mort that I called the police. He cursed me and drove away."

I smiled, "Mrs. Marshall, I am no 'sir.' I was a student of yours almost 20 years ago."

She inspected my face carefully and mumbled, "...are you Ron Garrett?..."

"Yes, I am."

She laughed, "If you didn't mention you were my student, I would have never guessed. Back then, you were a skinny, pimpled boy, and now you are a tall, handsome man. I recognized your eyes and the smile..."

"Teach, I would always recognize YOUR blue eyes. Mrs. Marshall, let's talk first about your former husband to ensure your safety, and afterward, I'd love to chat with you about everything else."

She giggled, "You are no longer my pupil, so call me Thelma. May I call you Ron, or you rather I call you Captain Garrett?"

I joked, "It's Ron until I become chief of police."

"I was married to Mort for about 10 years. Initially, he was loving and caring and was happy to accommodate everything I needed. I tried to be a good wife as well. But later, something happened to him. He started becoming jealous and blamed me for cheating on him, which I never did. He began stalking me and appeared unannounced at my school's social events. Each time I danced with another teacher, he saw it as a betrayal and caused embarrassing scenes in front of others multiple times. At one point, I couldn't take it anymore and asked for a divorce. He begged me to stay, but it was too late. I let him have the majority of our savings and became officially divorced 3 years ago. I moved from our larger house into this one and was ready to start over, but he continued chasing me, interrupting my social life on several occasions. I complained to the police twice before, but there was no clear evidence he was dangerous, so nothing was done. This time, he knocked on my door and claimed he loved me and wanted us to get together again. I told him I wasn't interested. He shouted, 'If I cannot have you, nobody will.' After that, I called you." Thelma glanced at me pleadingly, "Can you do something about it?"

"I will try my best. I'll need his full name, address, and a picture of him. My guess is once I talk to him, he will be too scared to approach you again."

"Ron, I hope you are right, but he is a smooth talker and may attempt to lie or trick you into thinking he is innocent."

I grinned, "Over the years, I've dealt with different kinds of men and interrogated scoreless criminals. Trust me; I'll do everything possible for my favorite teacher."

Her face relaxed, and she said, "Great. Now tell me what I can offer you with a piece of cake: Coffee? Tea? Cold drink?"

"Coffee with a sweetener will be perfect."

Thelma brought everything on a tray and gazed at me, "Tell me about you. I am curious to know what made you join the police."

"In high school, I was impressed by your talk about great inventors like Thomas Edison, Henry Ford, and Johannes Gutenberg, and thought of inventing something for humanity. But I was never as smart or innovative as them. Later, my intentions were more toward firefighting or EMD. One day, I was present when a couple of criminals tried to rob a store. A policeman intervened and saved the day. On that day, I made up my mind. After college, I joined the police and advanced rapidly to become a captain."

Thelma smiled, "It's an unusual story. I am so proud of you."

It felt so easy to talk to her... We chatted for another half an hour. Then I stood up and said, "Thelma, thank you for the cake and coffee. I loved your company and hope to be able to spend time with you again soon. Let me talk to Mort first, and I'll contact you with the results."

...

The same evening, around 7:30 pm, I knocked on Mort's door wearing regular clothes. He opened the door and smiled, "Are you the plumber I called?"

"No. I came to talk to you about another matter."

He tried to close the door in my face, but I pushed him back. He was about 50 years old, 5'9", 180 pounds, slightly balding, and with a small belly. He was no match for my 6'2", 190-pound frame. I led him to his living room, and we sat on the sofa.

He stared at me, frightened, "What do you want?"

"Are you familiar with Thelma Marshall?"

"She is my former wife."

"She talked to me and asked me to convince you to let go."

His sneaky eyes brightened, "I don't know what you are talking about. She stalked me a couple of times."

I hugged him and whispered threateningly, "Mort, my friend, I got access to the street camera and saw you shouting by her door. I hate it when somebody is lying to me."

He whined, "I did nothing wrong. I'll call the police."

I freed him and grinned, "I wouldn't do it if I were you. I know she complained about you 2 times in the past and another time this afternoon. The police have a rule: 3rd call is taken more seriously than the first two, and with the camera recording, you'll be booked. I am a lawyer, and among my clients who owe me a lot are some notorious criminals. When I saved their butts, they promised to help me anytime I needed them. I'll tell you what: you will NEVER try to set foot within half a mile from her, her property, and her relatives, and I would not ask my friends to burn down your house, destroy your pharmacy, or harm your miserable body. Are we clear, punk?!"

He cried, "I don't know what you are talking about..."

I stood up and reiterated, "Mort darling, I trust Thelma. The way I see things, if she calls me one more time about seeing or even smelling you, I won't bother with street cameras. You better prepare your will because some of these guys do not differentiate hurting you mildly from killing you. Capisce, moron?"

"OK. I got the message. Just leave..."

...

When I was back home, I called Thelma, "I talked to him and persuaded him to leave you alone. In case you still see him near you, let me know, and I'll deal with it differently."

"You are an angel. How can I repay you?"

"Will you have dinner with me at a restaurant of your choice?"

"I'd love to, but in the restaurant, I pay the bill. I am curious to know how you were able to convince Mort to abandon his scheme to ruin my life."

"Ma'am, I pay for the meal, and I do not want to hear another word about it, or I call the police."

Her throaty laugh was very pleasant, "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Absolutely. What kind of food you like?"

"I love Italian, French, Mediterranean, seafood, and others. But I am not that picky."

"Will European meal on Friday evening be OK?"

"Good European restaurants are very busy Friday night. Wouldn't you rather do it another day?"

"Is Bartolotta a good one?"

"Are you kidding? It's the best!"

"May I pick you up Friday at 6:30 pm?"

She chuckled, "Ron, I don't think the mayor can get a table on Friday night on such short notice."

"You are correct. The mayor can't, but I can. See you on Friday."

The next day, I called Paul Bartolotta, "Hi Paul. This is Ron Garrett. Will you arrange for me a table for 2 on Friday night at 7 pm?"

"Ron, for you, even a table for 4. I didn't thank you enough after helping with my 2 employees. I'll take care of it, and the meal is free."

"Thanks, Paul. You are a good friend."

...

Friday evening, I shaved, showered, and dressed nicely in long khakis, a long-sleeved light-blue shirt, a sporty jacket, and sneakers. I cleaned my BMW and drove to Thelma's house with a bouquet of multi-colored roses.

The woman who opened the door for me looked breathtaking: Thelma's hair framed perfectly her cute face, which showed a touch of makeup and red lipstick. She wore a long black dress displaying ample cleavage. I couldn't take my eyes off the top of her large breasts.

She grinned, "Ron, my eyes are about a foot higher. Are these beautiful flowers for me?"

I blushed profusely, "Sorry. In class, you always wore conservative suits, and I didn't know how gorgeous you were..."

"Did you expect me to flaunt my body in front of high schoolers?"

"Not really, but I am saying you hid your fantastic figure very successfully. I didn't know I invited a pinup girl to dinner."

She giggled, "You are so sweet to a 48 years old."

"Teach, your chronological age means nothing to me. I think I am in love all over again."

Thelma kissed my cheek, "Ron, I remember you said something similar to me at the final party."

I stared at her seriously, "I didn't change my mind since then. It might explain why I haven't married yet."

She took my hand in hers and mumbled, "You look very handsome yourself. Now, stop flirting with an oldie, and let's go to eat."

As I drove to the restaurant, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, and one time, I almost hit another car. Thelma chuckled, "Honey, you seem too distracted. Drive carefully, or we'll be involved in a car accident."

I laughed, "Thelma, it's your fault."

"No, it's not. Your eyes mislead you. Perhaps you need glasses."

I parked in front of the restaurant and rushed to open her door. She smiled at me, "Such a gentleman!..."

I introduced myself to the receptionist, and she took us to a nice table of 2 near a window. The view was amazing: The sun was slowly setting, and the blue water in the lake looked shiny.

She sighed, "I am astonished. How did you get the best table in the house?"

I smirked, "Paul Bartolotta murdered 3 people and I set him free."

Her eyes explored mine, "I do not believe you."

"I was just kidding. The truth is Bartolotta owns several restaurants. Due to frequently changing employees and visa issues, I helped facilitate some employees' statuses, which allowed him to open the restaurants without interruptions."

"I looked at the menu. The prices are sky-high. I insist on paying for my share."

I grinned, "Lady, I don't want to argue with you. You can pay the full sum on our check. Happy now?"

Her face turned pale, but she said nothing. I knew that for a regular customer, the bill would have been high, and for her, living on the salary of a teacher, it was extremely high. But, unlike her, I also knew the meal was free...

She looked at the menu and chose soup and salad. I stared at the prices and told her I was going to take a lobster, osso buco, and tiramisu. She grimaced.

I started laughing. She ogled my face. I said, "Thelma, Bartolotta told me he won't charge us a dime, so pick whatever you wish and stop calculating the price."

She smiled, "You are such a jerk. I thought you wanted to dump a hundred-dollar restaurant bill on me."

"You don't listen. I told you I am very fond of you. Do I look like Mort?"

"... you are much more attractive..."

"Is it OK if I tell you you are one beautiful lady?"

"You said it before. You are a nice man and a flatterer. But I don't take it too seriously."

"Why not?"

"Because I know my age and my flaws."

I was ready to answer, but the waiter arrived. Thelma ordered a salad and sole meuniere. I took onion soup and beef medallions. We added creme brulee, chocolate mousse, and a bottle of good white wine.

The dinner was fantastic... We finished the wine before our dessert arrived. Thelma complained, "You fatten me. I won't fit into my clothes anymore."

"In that case, you'll have to see me again, and together, we'll buy you new clothes."

She stared at me, "Ron, I got the message. You like me, but you seem to be too obsessed with me. Should I be worried?"

"I am nonviolent, but the truth is I wish to date you."

"God! What is wrong with you? Obsession with a teacher is frequent among teenagers. You are a grownup man who can date much younger attractive girls."

"Lady, your blue eyes conquered me when I was a senior in high school. Seeing you again reinforced my feelings. And stop mentioning your age. It's completely irrelevant."

"Ron, it's the wine talking. Tomorrow, your brain will take over, and you'll realize how ridiculous you sound."

"May I call you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, you can. However, be reasonable. With all the issues I had with Mort, I am too vulnerable emotionally."

"I promise to be nice and gentle."

"Call me after 10 am. I want to be sure I talk to you AFTER the hangover."

I drove to her house and accompanied her to the door. I kissed her cheek and smelled her hair. The floral smell was intoxicating...

As I was driving away, I saw her standing by the door with a strange smile on her face.

...

The following afternoon, I called Thelma's phone. She laughed, "Are you over me yet?"

"Not really. When can I see you again?"

Her tone became more serious, "Ron, if you were me, and a much younger guy was pursuing you, what would YOU do?"

"The answer is simple: If I were married, had a boyfriend, or didn't like the guy, I'd tell him that I wasn't interested. However, if I found the guy intriguing, not unattractive, and I had no better company, I'd agree to give him a chance."

"Why can't you be like other young guys and chase spring chickens?"

"Thelma, I am attracted to your wonderful eyes, pretty face, and heavenly figure. BUT, I fell for you in senior high before all of the above became relevant to me. Why are you fighting me? Will you go to a movie with me?"

She sighed, "Bad boy, you give me no choice."

I giggled, "Thank you. When would you like to go, and what movie would you prefer to watch?"

"How about tomorrow evening? Any good comedy, drama, or other non-violent film is OK."

"Great. I'll text you the exact time the movie starts, and you'll be ready half an hour earlier."

"I'll be waiting."

An hour later, I texted, 'The Return starts at 6:45 pm. See you tomorrow. X0.'

I got no answer and hoped she got the message.

...

I was at her house at 6:15 pm. She must have seen me through the window because she came out when I was parking the car. Thelma wore a short beige dress that displayed generous cleavage and high-heeled shoes with red hot lipstick. I opened the door for her and commented, "If you had in mind a plan to distract me from watching the movie, you succeeded. You look alluring."

Thelma blushed, "I tried..."

I entered the car and blurted, "You look marvelous, but if your intention was to emphasize your beauty, you didn't have to do anything. My brain is already fixated on you. I dreamt about you last night."

"What was the dream about?"

"May I plead the fifth?..."

She stared at me. I pretended not to notice and continued driving.

The theater was half-full. Our seats were on the side, by the stairs. During the commercials, Thelma said, "I read about the movie. It's about Odysseus returning home after his adventures. I love historical movies, even if they are based on legends."

"I recall my teacher's lecture about Homer's Iliad and Odyssey..."

She took my hand in hers and whispered, "What else do you remember about your teacher?"

"That I was jealous of her husband."

She turned to me and smiled, "I hope you don't feel that way anymore."

I gazed at her pretty eyes that radiated in the dark and murmured, "Thelma, may I kiss you?"