Read Me and Mr Booker for Free Online Page B

and an old hardback copy of Alice in Wonderland with his name written inside it. We moved apart and he sat down at his desk. I picked the book up and looked at the pictures.
    ‘Is this what you’re teaching?’ I said.
    ‘It’s what I’m reading,’ he said. ‘It helps.’
    Then he read to me from the paper he was marking.
    ‘A common type of criminal portrayed in Hollywood movies is the cereal killer. C-e-r-e-a-l.’
    He looked up from the page and put two fingers to the side of his head like a gun then threw the paper across the desk so that it landed on the floor in front of me. I picked it up and handed it back.
    ‘Take me away from all this,’ he said, looking at me with his dark eyes. They were so steady and serious it was hard for me to look back. I turned away and stared out of the window instead while my heart raced so fast it made me dizzy.
    ‘Sex raises its ugly head,’ he said.
    I laughed out of nervousness and turned to look at him again but his expression hadn’t changed.
    ‘You think I’m joking,’ he said.
    ‘You don’t know what I think,’ I said.
    We didn’t have lunch at the university. He drove me out to see the house they had bought and stopped the car in the driveway so that I could have a look. It was small and white with lots of windows and a garden full of gum trees.
    ‘Very nice,’ I said. ‘Do I have my own room?’
    ‘I dare say some arrangement can be made in the staff quarters,’ he said.
    ‘Would this involve actual work?’ I said.
    ‘Light duties,’ he said. ‘You can walk the cat.’
    We drove to a roadside shopping centre where we bought some food and a bottle of champagne and then we pulled in at a motel and I waited in the car while Mr Booker went to the office to check us in.
    The room was dark when we entered it and the first thing Mr Booker did was turn on a light. He looked around for a moment without saying anything then went into the bathroom to examine the shower and to wash his face. When he came out he said he was sorry it wasn’t the Ritz but they were booked up that week.
    ‘It’s fine,’ I said. I was standing by the bed waiting for him to tell me what to do next.
    He told me to get some glasses from the bar fridge while he opened the bottle. My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn’t hold the glasses steady so he took them from me, grasping them in one hand while he poured the champagne with the other, then he put everything down and took hold of my arm. He was smiling but in a nervous way, and when I asked him if he wanted me to take my clothes off he laughed.
    ‘Whatever you feel is appropriate, my sweet,’ he said.
    So that’s when he helped me to take my clothes off, and then he took off his suit and pushed me down onto the pink bed, which is when I told him I had never done it before but that I didn’t want him to stop on account of that.
    ‘Not a chance,’ he said, taking my nipple in his mouth.
    ‘You don’t mind?’ I said.
    He took my hand and pushed it down so that I was holding his erection, which was very hard, but at the same time so soft to touch it was like water.
    ‘I guess not,’ he said.
    Then he said he was sorry if it hurt but he would try to be gentle, and he was, so it didn’t.
    Even so there was a lot of blood, which is something I hadn’t expected because nobody had ever told me how sex worked. My mother had tried once but I had told her I already knew everything from the classes they gave us at school, which wasn’t true because the classes were about health and how to prevent pregnancy, but there wasn’t anything in them about sex in motel rooms with married men.
    Not that it mattered what I knew or didn’t know because Mr Booker showed me what to do. And I’m a quick learner. He kept asking me if what he was doing was good. Most of the time I nodded and didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to look at Mr Booker and see how much pleasure he was feeling. And also