Whatever happened to my teacher? Free erotica that's in a class of its own!

Hi!

Once again I'm letting you have me! Go on! Have me! I'm free, prone and aching for your touch. Open me. Gaze into my gash. Drink me. Consume me. Then rate me, review me... It's surely the least that you can do?

What am I? I'm a book, of course! What? You thought I was a woman? What sort of sorry slut do you take me for? Oh, I see, we've met before... I'll let you off then. Now roll me over and do me from my other end, from back to front, before your husband/wife comes home. I'm here:

'Whatever happened to my teacher?' on Amazon

Sorry, I got carried away. There is a point to this post and here it is: I'm giving away a book today. It's an anthology of sexy short stories, all with the teaching environment as a loose theme. If you open your mind and loosen your clothing enough, you may find that teaching can take place in a variety of places. Night clubs. Whore-houses. The backseat of cars. In my world, at least. Take my hand and join me there. Let's see what we can learn together xxx

Love and kisses till next time,

Alexandra xxxx

Excerpt from 'First Kiss' from the erotic anthology 'Whatever happened to my teacher?'

Skilled fingers find and undo every button, locate and lower his creaking zip. Clothes are falling off him. Hands are exploring him. He remembers he too has hands and rests them on her naked hips. Her skin is smooth, lightly oiled, and invites tactility. He feels he ought to speak, but there are no words in his experience for what is occurring. No one - except his mother and a procession of nurses - has ever touched him so fastidiously. Should he ask permission to remove her bra? To touch her intimate places? She seems to read his mind, unclips and discards the flimsy cups, then tugs the bows tied at her hips till the triangle falls away. She is naked.

He should be hard by now, but he isn't. His crotch feels merely uncomfortable. Her roving hands momentarily test his progress and, recognising his unreadiness, retreat and clench his buttocks, forcing groins together in a melodramatic mime of what is soon to follow. The realisation of where this is leading stops his flowing blood and, with relief, he starts to rise. 

'I was thinking I might not...'

'Hush!'

Gentle backwards pressure accompanies her whispered word. He finds himself lying on the bed. She is kneeling on the patterned carpet, removing his trousers and socks. He strips off his shirt. She plants her red mouth on the black tent that covers his manhood. He is almost crying.

'I didn't think you'd do that. Didn't think you'd do that...'