My Son's Teacher Wants A Baby: Teacher's Baby, #1

By Mona Rivers

She was my son's hot teacher, off-limits, alluring, forbidden.

 

I thought I'd been summoned for a parent teacher conference. Turns out Mrs. Skye had other plans. 

 

She wants a baby. I know I should go home. But with that short skirt and legs for days, I don't know that I can resist.

 

I want her, she wants a baby. Let's just hope her husband doesn't stop by the classroom.

 

My Son's Teacher Wants A Baby is a sexy hotwife story intended for readers over the age of 18 years of age.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mona Rivers
• Release date: Feb 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224990863

Book preview

My Son’s Hot Teacher Needs A Baby

Normally I’d approach parent-teacher interviews with the same enthusiasm I would in going to the dentist. But when it came to my son’s kindergarten teacher, I found myself oddly enthusiastic.

I’m not going to lie, it had more than a little to do with the fact that Mrs. Skye was everything that brings a smile to a man’s face. Bubbly, with sandy blonde hair and a body with enough curves to inspire all sorts of interesting thoughts on the drive to work.

Mrs. Skye was stunning. She was exactly the sort of woman that inspires fantasies in adolescents. Which is probably why they tucked her away in kindergarten, limit the damage to the daydreams of dad’s dropping their kids off before work.

Parent teacher interviews ran into the evening, and my wife and I tended to take them in turns. When I booked in for my son’s she gave me a smile that sent a thrill right through me.

Pushing open the classroom door, I found Mrs. Skye tidying up.

Tyson, I’m so glad you could make it, she beamed.

I couldn’t help but notice she was wearing heels, not the practical flats she wore most days. Her skirt was a flowing affair that ran to her knee but couldn’t hide her toned ass. Her blouse was undone, perhaps one more button than might be considered proper but I wasn’t going to complain.

Behave tiger. Eyes up.

If I wasn’t careful, I’d be pitching a tent that would be impossible to hide.

Wouldn’t miss it for the world, I replied. Got many more tonight?

You’re the last. Shall we get started? She pointed to two chairs set in front of her desk.

An early finish then. I supposed that explained her attire. She was heading out with her hubby for a date night after. I found myself envying the lucky bastard as I took my seat. She was a decade younger than me and no doubt her libido would be firing on all cylinders.

So, Mrs. Skye. How’s my boy settling in.

"Please, call me Skye. The kids might have to